Kristen Ashley - The Will

Then he kissed her forehead and moved back an inch to catch her eyes.

“Another good night, Slick.”

“Yes,” she agreed breathily, her eyes holding his and hers were not hiding the fact she didn’t want him to walk out the door.

Yeah.

He was her thing.

He wouldn’t have guessed it. Wouldn’t even think it was possible. Spent years not thinking it was possible.

But yesterday, she let him in. Calling him when a new wave of grief poured over her and he knew she did that shit the instant it happened with the way her voice sounded on her message and even later, when he called her back.

He just had to glide the rest of the way in, slow and easy. For her. For him. For his kids.

Like Lydie wanted.

Precisely like Lydie wanted.

“Sleep tight, baby,” he murmured.

“You too, Jake.”

He grinned at her and squeezed her with both hands.

Then he let her go, opened the door and walked out, ordering, “Lock this behind me.”

“Of course,” she replied to his back. Then she called, “Goodnight.”

He turned at the door of his truck and gave her a low wave and a smile.

She waved back.

Then she stepped back, closed the door and she was gone.

* * * * *

Jake heard the TV when he came into the kitchen from the garage.

He threw his keys on the counter and was shrugging off his suit jacket when Conner came in.

His eyes went to his boy.

“What’s her curfew?”

“It’s Saturday, Dad. We got until midnight.”

He bunched his jacket in a fist, walking further into the room and asked, “How many sundaes did Ethan eat?”

Conner grinned. “Three.”

“Terrific,” Jake muttered.

Conner leaned against the island and his grin died. “Just sayin’, Amber was a total bitch all night to everybody.”

Time to get her ass back to Josie. She might not have been sunshine and light after the last time she was with Josie, but at least that bought them having her quiet and reflective for a day or two.

“I’ll have a word.”

“Have twelve,” Conner replied. “Ellie got fed up with it. Told me she wanted me to take her home. Took a lot to talk her out of it.”

Jake wished he hadn’t. That would mean they’d make out and whatever the fuck they were doing in Conner’s car, not on Jake’s couch.

“Said I’ll have a word, Con,” he reminded him.

Conner nodded then grinned again. “How was dinner?”

“Josie’s the shit,” Jake replied, tossing his jacket on the island and moving to the fridge.

“You into her?” Conner asked and Jake came out of the fridge with a bottle of water and gave his eyes to his son.

“We havin’ a heart to heart while your girl is in there watchin’ TV?”

Conner’s grin got bigger. “Just askin’, seein’ as Ethan said she’s mega pretty.”

“You’ll see for yourself Monday night. We’re goin’ over there for dinner. And, heads up, she’s concerned you don’t eat vegetables. She’s a class act but she’s also Lydie’s granddaughter. Lydie’s been riding your ass for years about eating your greens. Josie laid it out for Amber within half an hour of meeting her. She won’t hesitate over vegetables.”

His son’s grin didn’t waver.  “I’ll brace.”

Jake shook his head, moved to his boy and grabbed him around the back of the neck for a squeeze.

Then he let him go and muttered, “Get back to your girl.”

Conner lifted his chin.

Jake moved to the door to the hall but stopped, turned back and called his son’s name.

Conner turned to him too. “Yeah?”

“Pick one,” Jake said quietly. “Think about it, think long and hard and pick right. But cut the others loose. You’ve had your fun. Now it’s time to make a choice and cut the strings so you aren’t draggin’ them all with you only to eventually drag them down. You with me?”

Conner had no smile when he started, “But, Dad—”

Jake cut him off. “Trust your old man. A woman’s heart is fragile and it’s precious. Don’t be that asshole who kicks it around.”

He watched his son swallow.

“Now, you with me?” Jake prompted.

He hesitated, but only a couple seconds before Conner replied, “Yeah, Dad.”

Jake nodded. “Good. ’Night, Con.”

“’Night, Dad.”

On that, Jake went up to his room.

The next day, I drove up the lane to see only Jake’s truck in the drive, Jake in the back of the bed arranging boxes.

Boxes of Gran’s clothes.

I swallowed as I brought my car to a halt behind his truck.

That morning, Jake had called me and suggested that it might be less traumatic for me if I wasn’t around when he and the guys were working.

This was a kind suggestion (as Jake, I’d learned, was very kind) and thus I’d agreed. I then phoned Mr. Weaver to ask if he wanted to spend some time in the office, even though it was a Sunday, and I could come over and sit with Mrs. Weaver.

He’d taken me up on the offer, so as Jake suggested, I was out of the house by the time he came. Before I’d left, I’d taken the time to write out detailed notes and tape them to pieces of furniture, lamps and knickknacks that I remembered used to make up the den but had been disbursed throughout the house so Jake’s “boys” could put them where they were supposed to be.

I’d also left money so Jake could order pizza.

Now, it was after one in the afternoon and he was the only one left.

I watched as he jumped down from the bed of his truck as I got out of my rental car, slammed the door and moved to him. I did this thinking that he could even jump down from a truck in a way I found attractive. I also did it thinking that everything about Jake Spear was attractive, most especially the entirety of his gallant and candid behavior the night before, not to mention his being amusing and thoughtful.

“What’s shakin’, Slick?” he called on a grin, making his way to me.

At his words, I stopped thinking of Gran’s clothes in those boxes, grinned back and stopped close to him. “I’m uncertain how to answer that since nothing’s shaking, Jake.”

His grin spread into an attractive, white smile.

Then he did it. Reaching up a hand, he slid it along the side of my neck to the back, pulling me gently forward so he could move in and kiss my forehead.

I would vastly prefer he kiss me somewhere else, felt this desire sweep through me with almost the strength it had the night before when he performed the same maneuver, and felt it equally difficult to quash the impulse to tip my head back to give him a different target.

I managed it, but when he pulled away, he did something different than he had last night.

He slid his hand from the back of my neck to cup my jaw and kept his face close.

“It’s all done,” he said quietly.

I nodded.

“You wanna see?”

I nodded again.

He let my jaw go (alas), but caught my hand and pulled me to the house.

We made it to the door of the den and I felt something different sweep through me when I looked in to see that it appeared much like it had for the years prior to Gran making it her bedroom. There were a few things put in the wrong places and there was some adjusting of the furniture that needed to be done.

But mostly, it was as it should be.

And in seeing it, I felt relief.

Therefore, staring at it, I whispered, “Thank you, Jake.”

He turned my way with a tug of my hand indicating he wanted my attention so I turned to him as well.

He kept hold of my hand and my eyes when he informed me gently, “Got a couple boxes of stuff that wasn’t clothes. Put them in her bedroom upstairs. What I got in the truck is just her clothes, like you asked. I’ll take it to Goodwill. That’s done. You take your time with the rest of her stuff, but you need me around when you do it, just call.”

I was wrong.

Jake wasn’t kind.

He was generous, selfless and tenderhearted. He loved Gran too. This couldn’t be easy for him.

“I don’t know how—” I began but he interrupted me not only with a squeeze of my hand but also with words.

“Think we established you don’t need to say or do shit. Like I said, this is done. Move on, honey.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded.

He kept speaking.

“Now, boys had pizza and I cleaned up the boxes, the paper plates. Your trash was overflowing so I took it out.”

Generous.

Selfless.

Tenderhearted.

Jake.

“Would you like to stay for a beer or something?” I offered, trying not to sound hopeful and luckily succeeding.

He shook his head, giving my hand another squeeze.

“I’d love to hang but Amber’s lookin’ after Ethan while Con’s at work so I need to get home so she can continue to sulk in her room by herself and not bug Eath with that shit.”

I nodded.

He continued speaking.

“We’ll be over tomorrow night at six. Cool?”

“Yes, Jake, erm…cool,” I agreed.

He again grinned on another squeeze of my hand. He then leaned in and gave me another kiss on the forehead.

He moved back this time without touching me further (alas), kept grinning at me for a moment before he said, “Later, babe.”

“Um…yes. Later.”

He winked, my stomach dipped then he let me go and he was gone.

Alas.

* * * * *

Twenty-five minutes after the Fletchers left after dinner that evening, my mobile rang.

I moved quickly to it and even more quickly took the call when I saw on the display who was calling.

“Jake,” I greeted.

“Yo, Slick,” he replied. “How’d dinner go with the Reverend and his missus?”

At his words, I went still.

Good God, he was calling simply to talk.

That felt nice.

Very nice.

It felt so nice I smiled at the phone and moved to the kitchen to put the kettle on to make a cup of tea. “It was quite enjoyable. He’s a very interesting man and she’s delightful. They both cared a good deal for Gran. It felt lovely having them here.”

“That’s good, babe.”

I put the kettle on the burner and asked, “How’s Amber?”

“No clue seein’ as she’s only come out of her room once since I got home and that was to grab a plate of dinner and disappear in it again.”

“Oh dear,” I murmured.

“Usually,” he went on, “I’d get on her ass about shit like that but we eat in front of the TV so it isn’t like she’s missin’ a big family dinner. She’s also never been a big fan of football, she’s dedicated to her moping so if she’s there, the boys and I can enjoy the game.”

He enjoyed football. This shouldn’t have been a surprise considering he’d been an athlete in his past. However, it caused me some concern although I didn’t know why. I didn’t enjoy sport, none of it, and spent no time on it. Not since having to do so when I lived with my father. And furthermore, Jake and I would be nothing but friends so it wouldn’t matter that I didn’t share his enjoyment of a certain pastime.

It still caused me concern.

I thought this.

I said out loud, “Of course.”

“I’ll give her today. Tomorrow, she’s gonna have to pull her head out of her ass.”

“I don’t envy you having to manage that situation,” I told him.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice on that one syllable shaking with what sounded like humor. “I don’t envy me either.”

This made no sense. Of course he wouldn’t envy him.

I didn’t point that out.

I shared, “Jean-Michel has replied to my email about Amber so perhaps tomorrow evening when I share his reply with her, it might brighten her up a bit.”

“I’m guessin’ from her reaction last time, that’ll do the trick.”

I smiled again, pleased I could do something that would please Amber.

“Okay, babe, gonna let you go. Con just came in with Ro-Tel dip so it’s time to eat until we’re sick and watch the second half of the game.”

At his words, I felt my brows draw together.

“Ro-Tel dip?”

“Ro-Tel dip,” he repeated then explained. “Dump a can of Ro-Tel on a cake of Velveeta, nuke it, stir it, nuke it more until it’s smooth and then eat the fuck outta that shit usin’ corn chips.”

I had no idea what Ro-Tel was but the very mention of Velveeta turned my stomach. Velveeta assumed the guise of cheese but I knew cheese and I enjoyed nearly all varieties of cheese and Velveeta wasn’t that. It made me squeamish even to look at it.