The Will (Magdalene #1)(93)
Author: Kristen Ashley

So I smiled at her as I reached out and gave her hand a brief squeeze.

Then I motioned to the door with my head.

She preceded me and I followed her down the stairs.

She said, “Hey, Mr. Spear,” as she walked past Jake at the bottom of the stairs, moving toward the living room.

“Hey, honey,” he muttered to her as she did, but his eyes were on me.

Then his large body was blocking mine as I reached the bottom of the stairs and thus I had to stop and look up at him.

“Everything cool?” he asked quietly, studying me closely and I knew I was not hiding my unease.

“For Amber, yes. For you, if things play out as she wishes…” I hesitated then finished, “No.”

“Come again?” he asked, his brows knitting.

“A young man said hi to her last night at the diner. Boy Taylor showed me his picture and he’s very attractive. He was also sitting on a motorcycle.”

Jake’s brows unknit and his jaw got hard.

I went on.

“I’m informed he plays guitar.”

His eyes flashed and a muscle jumped in his cheek.

I continued speaking.

“He also writes his own music and plays in a band.”

Jake looked beyond me, grumbling, “Fuckin’ fuck me.”

“I’m further informed he gets straight A’s and he’s a one woman man.”

Jake’s eyes came back to me and I could see immediately he did not share my minor relief at these revelations.

“Who woulda thought I’d miss Noah,” Jake remarked.

I pressed my lips together wanting to laugh but knowing I absolutely should not.

“A motorcycle?” he asked.

I tipped my head to the side and gave him a little wince.

He tipped his head back and said to the ceiling, “Why couldn’t you have given me all boys?”

I found this obvious conversation with God intriguing and thus asked, “Do you believe in God?”

He looked back to me and his brows were again knit. “Uh…yeah.”

“If this is so, I’ll inform you that Reverend Fletcher has invited me to attend services and he expressly asked that I bring you and the children along.”

“I bet he did,” Jake murmured, moving to my side and slinging an arm around my shoulders.

“I’ll tell you now, I’m not fond of waking up early but they do have an evening service.”

He looked down at me as he moved us toward the family room and I slid my arm around his waist.

“You’re not fond of gettin’ up early?”

“No.”

“You get up early to work out with me.”

I just looked at him.

He grinned and did it slowly. He also pulled me closer. Last, he looked in the direction he was taking us.

“Evening services it is, Slick. But not tonight. Next week. Happy to get closer to God to ask Him in His house to look after my girl when basketball stars and guitar players with motorcycles are in the mix.”

“Indeed,” I agreed but the word was weighty which earned me a squeeze of his arm and him tipping his head down to give me another grin.

He moved us into the living room where there was a football game playing on Jake’s extortionately large television and children all around consuming orange dip with red and green bits in it, doing this utilizing corn chips.

Jake, in Jake fashion, seated me himself. He did this in an overlarge club chair with matching ottoman that was really meant only to seat one but he made it seat two, albeit snugly.

He then commanded, “Eath, get Josie and me another bowl a’ that and bring in a fresh bag of chips.”

Ethan jumped off the couch and raced to do as his father bid. Therefore, in no time at all, I was confronted with a bowl of dip held in Jake’s big hand, the bag of chips resting in his lap.

It was time to make my judgment.

And I was much surprised to find the dip tangy, spicy and of a very smooth consistency that was quite nice and the chip was fresh, crispy and salty.

An excellent combination.

“It pass inspection?” Jake asked as I went for another chip.

I looked to him to see him studying me, lips again quirking.

“It’s not camembert,” I shared. “But it’s tasty.”

His lips stopped quirking and he yet again grinned as he went for his own chip.

Football game watching commenced and I found I liked sitting very snugly in Jake’s chair with Jake watching it with our lively company around. Ethan very into the game, thus shouting a lot. Conner and Jake often commenting about players, plays or calls. Myself engaging in conversation that had very little to do with football and much to do with fashion, makeup, skincare, and accessorizing as well as commentary on the good-looking players on the field with Amber and the Taylors.

After the first game ended, Jake ordered us all to the kitchen where we prepared our tacos (the meat, Jake explained to me, had to simmer awhile “for it to be real good, honey”).

Although I saw the envelope from which he’d poured the spices, and thus suspected the fare would be mediocre, he was not wrong. The tacos were delicious. Ethan and Conner microwaved the rather spare remains of the dip and spooned it into their tacos and I decided to try that should I have another taco afternoon at Jake’s for I thought it might be rather appetizing.

We ate in front of the TV and Amber and the Taylors had taken our used plates and cutlery back to the kitchen and refreshed our drinks when it happened.

The doorbell rang.

“Amber,” was all Jake said and she surprisingly dutifully got up and went to the door.

The front door was not close (there was an informal living room that looked more like a romper room for teenagers with a large sectional in it that had two laptops and a tablet scattered on it, as well as exploding backpacks on the floor, and also a dining room at the front of the house).

Not being close, we only heard murmurings and no one seemed overly bothered they had company.

Until Amber came back and my head snapped her way when I heard the trembling tone of her voice.

“Um…Dad, Con…uh, Mr. Earhart and Mia are here to talk to you guys.”

Mia?

The young woman who confronted Conner and Ellie at the football game?

I felt Jake’s body get tight next to mine, heard Con mutter, “What the hell?” but my eyes were riveted to Amber’s face.

She looked afraid.

Suddenly, I was out of the chair because Jake put his hands to my waist and shoved me to my feet.

Then I was moving toward the front of the house because Jake was also out of the chair, had grabbed my hand and was dragging me there.