The Will (Magdalene #1)(40)
Author: Kristen Ashley

Then she held out her hand to him.

Christ.

It hit him in that moment in a way he knew he’d never forget that he could take that hand and she could lead him anywhere. Just tip up her lips, turn those eyes to him and hold out her hand and he’d go straight to hell with her and do it smiling.

He knew the idea was f**ked.

He also knew no one grieved like she did for Lydie without feeling deep. He knew she wasn’t giving up the house, something that would break Lydie’s heart—and his children’s. He knew she was looking after a dying woman she barely knew so her husband could have a break. He knew she was the only person who seemed to pierce even an inch through the web of teenaged girl drama Amber had woven around herself. He further knew that his daughter was a vegetarian for a day and then she gave that stupid shit up, definitely because of Josie. He knew she helped his son with his homework. He knew he gave her all his f**ked up shit with women and she made it sound like he was a knight in armor on a white horse. And, last, he knew she knew she’d f**ked up with him and she didn’t even leave it for a day before she hauled her ass to him and apologized.

She was wrong. With Donna and Mandy, he’d been blind.

Now he had his eyes open and he liked a f**kuva lot what he was seeing.

He strode forward and took the hand she was offering. Then he pulled it up and tucked it to the side of his chest, his eyes going to the hostess.

“As the lady said. Spear,” he said to the hostess.

She nodded, grabbing some menus. “Of course. Please follow me.”

He held Josie close as they walked to their table. It was not lost on Jake that never, not once in his life with the women he’d had in it—and some of them had been good ones, all of them had been good-looking—had he ever felt the pride he felt walking through that restaurant with Josie at his side.

When they made it to their table, one he liked, which was in the middle of the restaurant so everyone could see him and the woman on his arm, he let her go only to pull out her chair.

He settled her into it and watched as the hostess flicked out Josie’s napkin and Josie sat back with practiced ease to allow it to be placed on her lap.

Jake grabbed his own, not about to have the hostess do the same with him.

They were handed their menus, told that their server would explain the evening’s specials and the hostess slid away while a busboy came in and filled their water glasses.

Josie looked up at the kid and murmured, “Thank you.”

It was then she turned even brighter, totally shining eyes to him.

When she did, Jake felt his chest seize for the second time that night, but this time it was an altogether different kind of feeling.

The busboy left and Josie leaned into the table immediately.

“Gran and I have been here three times,” she announced.

Fuck.

He watched her closely, wondering if he misinterpreted those bright eyes and it was about tears, not happiness.

“I love it here,” she went on. “We came twice for my birthday, once for hers. It’s one of my favorite restaurants anywhere.”

Well, that was good.

She smiled a big smile, a smile that lit up her face and exposed her pretty white teeth.

His gut clenched.

He’d seen her smile. But never like that.

It was phenomenal.

“I went to Breeze Point and Gran and I would go there too, more often as it’s not as expensive. And I went by myself. It wasn’t a terrible experience but it made me melancholy and not simply because that odious man approached me,” she shared, still smiling.

It was then she gave it to him.

“But now I’m in a lovely frock, you look very handsome in your suit, you’re very gallant which is most charming, and we’re at a fabulous restaurant where I’m certain we’ll partake of an excellent meal. And it doesn’t make me feel melancholy because I know Gran would be happy we’re here enjoying this…together.”

She reached out, grabbed her water glass, took a sip from it and put it back, returning her eyes to Jake. All through this, Jake, still dealing with her smile and her words, couldn’t think of f**k all to say.

“Now we get to make a lovely memory here. Isn’t that marvelous?” she asked.

“Yeah, babe,” he forced himself to answer.

She kept dazzling him with a smile a moment before she continued rocking his world.

“Thank you for giving this to me. It means a great deal.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” he whispered.

And that was when something else hit him.

Since he’d first seen her, she was covered in a cloak of grief. She carried on day to day, but it was still smothering her.

Now, she was happy.

And he gave her that.

Shit, f**k, but that felt good.

He watched her tip her head to her menu and murmur, “I wonder what their specials are. They always have something quite splendid on offer with their specials.”

“Live it up, Slick, whatever you want,” he murmured back and she tipped her head again, gave him her shining eyes and another dazzling smile.

He grinned at her then he grinned down at his menu.

He’d not made his choice when a waiter arrived at their table and Jake watched with confusion as the guy put a glass of champagne in front of Josie.

“Good evening,” he said as Jake looked from the glass, to Josie studying it, to the waiter. “That’s from the gentleman at the bar,” he explained, smiling and tipping his head toward the bar.

The waiter went on, asking Jake’s drink order but Jake looked beyond Josie, who was looking over her shoulder toward the bar, and he saw him.

Fucking Boston Stone.

And the f**ker had the balls to send a drink to the woman sitting at Jake’s table.

“Sir?” the waiter prompted and he cut his eyes to him.

“Bud. Bottle if you got it,” he ordered curtly.

“Of course,” the waiter replied. “Would you like to hear the specials?”

Jake looked to Josie to see her now glaring at the glass of champagne.

“Come back,” he said.

“Of course,” the waiter murmured then slid away.

The instant he did, Jake knew how irritated Josie was because she didn’t hesitate telling him.

“This is beyond the pale,” she hissed. “Utterly tactless. I’m at a meal with a gentleman and he sends a glass of champagne only to me? That is not done. It’s exceptionally rude not to mention arrogant. Does he honestly think this will impress me? If he does he’s very wrong.”