The Will (Magdalene #1)(140)

My heart skipped a beat.

It had been a long time but I remembered how that felt.

And how it felt was wonderful.

“He did?” I whispered.

“The entire time,” boy Taylor told me.

“Really?” I asked.

“Totally,” he answered. “And you should know she was totally cool. Sweet and nice to him, a little shy, but she waited to screech and hyperventilate until after he was long gone.”

I smiled at a Jake who still had brows drawn. “Tell her I’m proud of her.”

“Will do,” he replied. “Gotta go, though. We have to get to class.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Have a good day,” I said.

“You too. Later.”

“Later.”

He disconnected.

Jake asked, “What?” the instant I took the phone from my ear.

My heart skipped another beat for an entirely different reason.

Uh-oh.

“Well…” I began and trailed off.

“What?” he repeated.

“Um…”

He leaned toward me and said a warning, “Josie.”

“Alexi sat with Amber at lunch today.”

Instantly, he tipped his head back and muttered, “Christ almighty.”

“She’s quite excited,” I told him.

He tipped his head forward and scowled at me.

I lifted a hand and curled it around his neck, leaning close and sharing, “She’s happy.”

“He asks her out and comes on that bike to pick her up, I’m shooting him.”

I dropped my hand and leaned back, my brows lifting. “You own a firearm?”

“No,” he answered, turning his focus back to our soup. “But today, I’m buyin’ one.”

I let out a little giggle that I swallowed before it could bloom when Jake’s eyes cut to me.

“I’m not joking.”

“Okay, darling,” I said soothingly.

He looked back at the soup, muttering, “Fuck me.”

I jumped off the counter and put my purse back on the island, stating, “I’ll get drinks. What do you want?”

“Coke,” he answered.

I didn’t get him a Coke.

I moved to him, fit my front to his back, wrapped my arms around his stomach and put my chin to his shoulder blade, whereupon I whispered, “You’re a good dad.”

I gave him a squeeze, kissed his shoulder blade through his shirt, let him go and got him his Coke.

But when I turned away from the fridge, I saw he didn’t look quite so aggravated anymore.

And thus, I figured I’d appropriately handled my man.

So I smiled.

* * * * *

“And he was all, Combat Raptor is lame. So I was all, and Zombie Mayhem wasn’t? And he was all, Zombie Mayhem was the bomb. And I was all, there’s no such thing as zombies. And he was all, like men can turn into jets? And I was all, duh, Transformers…? And he was all, Transformers are robots.”

This was coming from Ethan who was, for some unknown reason, lying upside down on Gran’s couch, his feet over the back, his head dangling over the seat.

Amber was painting her nails in Gran’s armchair.

We’d just had dinner (and dessert) that I’d prepared, but for some reason, Conner was in the other armchair eating the chips and salsa Ethan told me I had to buy when we took Pearl on the excruciatingly long (I reminded myself she did walk with a walker) trip to the grocery store that afternoon.

And by the by, I was right. Ethan knew Pearl. They liked each other a great deal and our afternoon was quite enjoyable (sans the excruciatingly long trip at the grocery store, of course).

Conner not only had chips and salsa but also a textbook opened on his thigh to which he was paying scant attention.

As for me, I’d been planted in the couch between the upside down Ethan and the right side up Jake.

The pre-game show for Monday Night Football was on the television. This was because Jake had programmed my DVR (I didn’t even know I had one or, indeed, what one was) to “Tape Project Runway anytime it shows, even the reruns, so you can watch it whenever you want and Amber can come over and watch that shit with you.”

As this was acceptable to Amber and me, Monday Night Football it was.

Ethan kept rattling on as Jake slid an arm around me and tucked me close to his side.

I rested my head against his chest, pulled my legs up, tucked them into the seat beside me and studied the commentators.

When Ethan took a breath, I noted, “That tie the bald fellow is wearing is extremely unbecoming.”

“I know, right?” Amber agreed.

Jake’s arm gave me a squeeze as a soft chuckle escaped his mouth but I heard it come from there and from his chest and I felt it.

All three were very nice.

“Jesus,” Conner muttered.

Without disconnecting from Jake, quietly and cautiously I said to Conner, “You really shouldn’t take the Lord’s name in vain, honey.”

Conner grinned at me and replied, “You really shouldn’t talk trash about a Football Hall of Famer’s tie.”

“Is this a rule?” I queried.

“Absolutely, “Conner replied.

I rolled my eyes and when I rolled them back, he was still grinning at me.