The Will (Magdalene #1)(71)

Seeing the smile in the stormy gray of his eyes in my dimly lit foyer, my belly dipped.

Then he bent in again and gave me another brush of his lips against the corner of my mouth before he added something new. He moved his hand from my jaw and tugged gently and playfully at my ponytail before he moved away and I watched him walk out my front door.

* * * * *

It was after school and Ethan and I were at Wayfarer’s.

I had picked him up from school, or, more accurately, he’d seen me in my Cayenne and nearly given me a heart attack by dashing across the road with extreme excitement (and not checking the street before he did so), throwing open the passenger door and shouting, “I can’t wait to get a ride in this totally awesome ride!”

He did not delay in achieving his purpose, climbed up and buckled in. I set us on the road while I allowed him time to get his “ride in this totally awesome ride” before I used measured words to explain he should always scan the street before crossing it.

“Whoops,” was his reply.

I decided to take that as him having heard me then I shared our afternoon endeavors were that we were going to make cream puffs from scratch.

To that, a yelled, “Awesome!” was his reply.

And to that, I’d smiled at the windshield.

Ethan chattered to me while we moved through the aisles at Wayfarer’s, picking up what we needed. But when we approached the checkout counter, Conner came in the front doors.

“Con!” Ethan cried and Conner’s head turned our way.

He spied us and moved in our direction while smiling.

“What’s up?” he asked when he arrived.

“Cream puffs, dude,” was Ethan’s answer.

“Awesome, little dude,” was Conner’s response, still smiling at his younger brother.

“Hello, Conner,” I greeted.

“Yo, Josie,” he replied, turning his smile to me. “You doin’ good?”

“I am, indeed,” I answered. “And you?”

“Nothin’ gets me down,” he stated breezily and I couldn’t help but smile at his words and tone. “Love to rap but gotta clock in,” he told us.

“Later, bro,” Ethan said.

“Good-bye, Conner,” I said.

He jerked up his chin, so very much like his father, gave us a low wave (also like his father) and moved away.

“Amber’s a pain in the butt but Con is the bomb,” Ethan told me and I looked down at him.

“Amber is a teenaged girl who’s trying to understand her place in this world and is erroneously assuming that that place is dependent on how many boys find her attractive and how popular she is at school. Your brother has a good deal of confidence due to his good looks and, likely, his prowess in the boxing ring. When Amber finds what she excels at, she’ll cease being a pain in the behind.”

“I hope she finds what she excels at soon,” Ethan muttered.

“I do too,” I murmured back.

“What’s erroneous?” he asked and I grinned down at him.

“Mistaken,” I explained.

“Right.” He grinned up at me then went on, “So what’s prowess?”

“Ability. Skill,” I told him.

“Right,” he repeated, still grinning.

At this point, the cashier told me my total.

I paid for the groceries and Ethan insisted on getting two of the three handled brown paper bags (also, it would appear, like his father). I took the remaining one and we left the store.

Cross Street had been (and still was) rather busy when we arrived at Wayfarer’s and thus we’d needed to park well down from the store. We set off on our journey, carrying our bags, Ethan again chattering.

“They got cream puffs at the bakery but I bet yours will be better,” he noted.

“As Americans often put sweetened whipped cream or vanilla pudding between the choux pastry, and we’ll be making crème patisserie, this is indeed a fact.”

“What’s crème patisserie?” Ethan asked.

“Proof there is a God,” I answered.

He burst out laughing and I liked the sound so much, not to mention liking that it was me who gave it to him, I smiled down at him just as I heard, “Yo! Josephine!”

I stopped and saw that we were standing in front of one of the two large opened bays of the Firehouse. I peered into the shadows beyond the shiny red fire truck and out came Mickey from the gym.

And I saw that this time, Mickey from the gym was not in workout clothes, which suited him greatly, but instead in dark blue trousers and a lighter blue t-shirt with an insignia over his heart. As these were the apparel of a firefighter not actually fighting a fire, but still being a firefighter, they suited him even better.

“Mickey!” Ethan exclaimed, clearly knowing the man.

“Yo, Eath,” Mickey replied on a grin at Ethan and his grin, like it had been that morning, was also quite nice.

“You know Josie?” Ethan asked and Mickey moved his grin to me.

“We met at the gym this morning,” Mickey explained.

I felt Ethan’s eyes and looked down at him just as he was inquiring, “You were at the gym this morning?”

“Your dad and I worked out together,” I shared and Ethan smiled big.

“Cool,” he said in approval.