“And the last?” she prompted when he stopped talking.

“Sloane, Ethan’s mom.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re down with real?”

A pause then, “Yes, Jake, I’m down with real.”

He grinned again at the way she said that then stated, “She was fuckin’ fantastic in bed.”

When he said no more she asked, “That’s it?”

“No,” he answered. “She was unbelievably fuckin’ fantastic in bed.”

“I, um…well, that is to say…it doesn’t sound like you wanted to end things with any of these women.”

“You open your eyes, you see signs. You keep ‘em closed, you don’t see dick. Lookin’ back, every one of them gave me reason to throw in the towel before things got legal. I didn’t see it because I wasn’t man enough to look for it.”

Again, he got silence for a long time before she said, “I don’t know much about these matters, Jake, but I would think it would make a man less of a man if he was in love and he didn’t have the courage to try his hand.”

The courage to try his hand.

Fucking hell.

She kept going.

“Therefore, outside of Ethan’s mother, who you didn’t claim to love, you just followed your heart and I find that very manly.”

Followed your heart.

Fucking hell.

“Jake?” she called when he was silent.

“Yeah, baby,” he answered quietly.

“I…” Another pause and then, “Are you all right?”

“Laid it out, it was ugly, you went gentle,” he replied, reaching out and finding her hand. He gave it a squeeze and finished, “Appreciate that, honey.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” she murmured and it took her a second but she squeezed his hand back.

He kept hold of it, resting the back of his on the sleek silk over her soft thigh and her hand again squeezed his, reflexively this time. He figured he knew what this meant but he didn’t let her go even as they hit The Eaves and he turned into the parking lot. He only let her go when he stopped the truck outside the front door.

He put it in neutral, opened his door and jumped down. Rounding the hood, he pulled open her door.

“I’ll let you out here. Place is always packed. I find a spot far away, don’t want you walkin’,” he explained.

“That’s kind, Jake. Thank you,” she replied and undid her seatbelt.

When she turned to the door and cautiously put one of her shit-hot shoes to the running board, he put his hands to her waist. She put hers to his shoulders and he pulled her down, setting her on her feet.

He let her go, she dropped her hands but he grabbed one and walked her to the front door and through it.

Once he had her out of the cold, he lifted his other hand and squeezed the side of her neck as he squeezed her hand in his, bent close and said, “Be back.”

Her blue eyes held his and she murmured, “All right.”

He grinned at her and took off.

He was assaulted with the vision of her in that dress when he returned. Obviously, they’d taken her coat.

He was still dealing with her and her dress when she turned her eyes to him near on the second he came through the door, her lips tipped up, her eyes for some reason bright, and she said, “I inquired. Our table is ready.”

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 fucked.

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 fucked 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 fucked 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 fuckuva 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 fuck 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, fuck, 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 fucker 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.”

After she delivered that, Jake rose from his chair, tossed his napkin on the table, reached across it and nabbed her glass of champagne.

He rounded the table, his eyes on his target, his blood hot in his veins, and only stopped when he felt her hand curl around his.

He looked down at her to see she’d paled and was now looking concerned.

“Jake—” she started in a whisper.

“It’ll be okay, baby,” he assured her. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Then he pulled his hand from hers after giving hers a squeeze and prowled to Stone.

He put the glass on the bar beside Stone and growled, “Outside.”

He didn’t wait to see if Stone followed him. He might not know Boston Stone but he knew the kind of man he was. Even though he knew Jake could take him, and not just because Jake had two inches and thirty pounds on him, he wouldn’t take the hit to his manhood that would be keeping his seat when he was called out.

Jake wasn’t wrong. When he got outside, Stone was there. The asshole rounded him and they faced off, Jake going first.

“You got stones,” Jake clipped.

To that, the motherfucker grinned. “Is that a pun?”

“I’m not bein’ funny, asshole,” Jake bit out. “Seriously? Sendin’ a drink to the woman sittin’ across from me at my table?”

“I bought the entire bottle but I’ll drink the rest. I’m relatively certain Dom Perignon would be lost on you,” Stone replied, his voice smooth, his words snide.

Jake let that slide. What Boston Stone thought of him did not factor. Not now and it never would.

What factored was Josie having a good night, smiling bright and then a minute later being pissed because of this jackass.

“Josie’s got too much class to lay it out for you,” Jake returned. “But on the way here, she told me about the drink she’s supposed to have with you. She also told me she didn’t want that drink. We talked about it and decided I’d lay it out for you. And now that I got that opportunity, here it is. She’s not into you, man. Let it go. And heads up, a woman like that with class like that, the shit you just pulled doesn’t do anything for her except piss her off.”

“We’ll see Monday night if Josephine is into me.”

Jesus. Was this guy deaf?

“You didn’t hear me,” Jake returned. “You won’t be seein’ shit ‘cause, if you show at the Club, she won’t be there ‘seein’ as she’ll be makin’ dinner for me and my family.”

Annoyance chased across Stone’s face before he hid it and lifted his chin. “It appears she’s in the mood to go slumming but a woman like that always comes around when that particular thrill is gone.”

What was with this guy?