The Will (Magdalene #1)(152)
Author: Kristen Ashley

I pulled slightly away and caught his eyes. They were looking in mine and Eath (such a wonderful child) nodded.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” I said.

He chewed, swallowed and grinned a chocolate, peanut, caramel and nougat grin.

I grinned back.

At this point, Alyssa shot out of her chair, jumped up and down on her strappy, high-heeled sandals and started screeching, “That’s right, baby! Get in there. Don’t let up! Take him down!”

I allowed myself to admire her attractive, albeit brief and tight, red dress before I looked to the ring to see Junior had his opponent up against the ropes and was landing a succession of combinations that his competitor was having difficulties defending against.

Alas, the referee pushed them apart and moved in to assess the condition of Junior’s challenger. The man shook his head side to side to clear it then looked the referee in the eyes and nodded.

The referee let them loose again.

“Stupid ref,” Alyssa groused, plonking herself down in the seat beside me, her eyes never leaving the ring.

The bell rang and since it was only the second round, we had another one to go before Alyssa again shot from her seat, lost her mind, shrieking, clapping and jumping up and down when the referee lifted Junior’s hand.

He smiled down at his wife.

She blew him a kiss that was so exaggerated she came off her feet when she swung her arm wide. Then she turned instantly to the seat, snatched up her purse and coat and her eyes came to me.

She leaned into me and said low, “Right, Operation Tag Team commence. You got Bryant. I get home with my man and get laid. You text when Jake’s done, drop Eath and Bry at our place so you can get laid. Yeah?”

I nodded, enjoying the happy light in my friend’s eyes and trying to ignore the happier feeling between my legs considering what was to come for me.

“Yes,” I agreed.

She lifted her fist, knuckles facing me, something Conner had taught me about a week ago was a “fist bump.” He did this after he did the same to me and I stared at his hand nonplussed for half a minute before he showed me what to do.

Thus, I knew what to do, bumped my fist against hers, and she breathed, “I love fight night.”

I giggled as I encouraged, “Go.”

I needed to give her no further encouragement. She dashed to her son, grabbed either side of her face, gave him a loud kiss right on the mouth, which made him shout, “Euw, Mom!”

She then tousled his hair, looked to Ethan and said, “Later, buddy.”

“Later, Mrs. Harper,” Ethan replied.

Alyssa gave me a finger wave and took off down the aisle.

“Can we get popcorn?” Bryant asked and I looked to him.

“Think hard about your stomach, the fullness of it, the possibility if more was introduced that it may need to purge some to fit the rest and then tell me if you really want popcorn,” I stated.

“What’s purge mean?” he asked.

“Evacuate,” I answered and he grinned.

“What’s evacuate mean?” he asked.

At that, I grinned.

“Empty,” I answered.

“You talk so freakin’ cool,” he replied. “Weird. But cool.”

“Indeed. And you will find, young Bryant, as you grow older that things that are normal are just normal. Anyone can be normal. Thus it’s my experience that most things that are weird are cool.”

“So you sayin’ we should try to be weird, Josie?” Ethan asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

“I’m saying that you shouldn’t try to be anything. You should be you and however you are will be cool unless however that is, is you trying to be like everyone else, which is just normal, which is not cool,” I answered.

“Well, I’ve decided to be a con artist turned FBI consultant like that dude in White Collar. Is that weird and cool enough for you?” Ethan shared his latest plans for his future, that teasing glint still in his eye.

This was a program that Ethan had recently discovered on Netflix. I knew this because he not only told me but he also talked about it all the time. And watched it all the time. And as I was with him a fair amount of that time, I watched it too.

It was an excellent program.

However, a life goal to be a con artist, even a stylish and intelligent one who had a definite flair with wearing a fedora, such as “the dude on White Collar,” was not optimal.

“If you skip past the con artist part, and simply aim to be an FBI agent, yes,” I answered.

He shook his head but did it grinning.

I looked to Bryant and prompted, “Your popcorn assessment?”

“I’m thinkin’ I wanna keep those fifteen Kit Kats in my stomach, Ms. Malone,” Bryant replied.

“Good choice,” I murmured.

We settled in, me examining the crowd, the boys jabbering to each other. We then watched the next fight, Mickey’s, the boys encouraging him rather boisterously to win, and although I didn’t shout, I did clap when Mickey’s arm was lifted.

It was after that I started to get excited.

Because Mickey’s victory heralded the last fight of the night.

Jake’s fight.

As the delay between fights began to feel incessant, I started fidgeting. But when the announcer introduced the fighters, like everyone else, I came out of my seat, clapping, but doing it on legs that were trembling.

I felt my mouth go dry when I saw Jake coming down the aisle. I then felt my heart swell when he stopped at our row, put a gloved hand to Bryant’s head, then Ethan’s.

And I found it took everything to remain standing when his eyes came to me. They heated instantly before they swept me from top to toe. They came back to my face and they were even more heated which made it even more difficult to remain standing.

I had, of course, tricked myself out.

This being that I had my hair down but curled so there seemed more of it.

Much more.

And I had a midnight blue dress on, high collar and halter, which left my shoulders and back totally bare. The dress was almost blousy at the bust but clung rather alluringly everywhere else. It had a slit up the front and came to just below the knee. And last, the midnight blue had an almost elusive wave of burnished silver through it so I also had on my delicate, very strappy and very high-heeled silver sandals.

It would seem Jake appreciated my efforts.

Very much so.

And I appreciated his appreciation.

Very much so.

Finally, he released my eyes, which he was holding captive, and went to the ring.

I thankfully sank into my seat.