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.

But the fidgeting had not stopped.

No, because shortly after, the fight started.

Jake did not knock his opponent out in the first round this time. It went all three. Which was sheer torture for I was very ready for it to be over when it was finally over since watching Jake fight meant I was ready for it to be over about one minute into round one.

But one could not say that watching him box, the brute force, the focus, his muscles moving, his body shifting, his utter command of not only the fight, not only the ring, but the entire arena, was a sight to behold.

Even so, I was beyond thrilled when his hand was lifted at the end. I again rose from my seat, shooting from it this time, clapping fast and hard, smiling wide.

Jake gave the boys a smile and me a wink as he walked back up the aisle and hurriedly I turned to Ethan and Bryant.

“All right, boys. Get your things. Check around to make sure you didn’t forget anything. Let’s go,” I urged.

They did as told. I slid on my coat and grabbed my bag. When we were ready, I herded them up the aisle and to the door to the locker rooms.

The same security man was there and he smiled at me when I approached with the boys.

“Same room, babe,” he told me.

I nodded and ushered the boys through the door. We hurried down the hall to Jake’s door but this time, I knocked.

“Yo!” we heard from the other side.

Ethan charged in, followed by Bryant, and I came up the rear.

I felt a rush of wet between my legs when I saw Jake in the same position as last time, sitting on the table in his trunks, his friend and trainer, Bert, standing in front of him.

“Dad! You killed it!” Ethan shouted, rushing up to his father to give him a hug.

Jake jumped off the table to get it and hugged him back. When they separated, he looked down to his son. “Like that?”

“Heck yeah!” Ethan yelled.

“You’re the master, Mr. Spear,” Bryant told him.

“Thanks, Bry,” Jake murmured on a grin to Bryant then he came to me.

He got close, slid an arm around my waist and put his mouth to my ear.

“Love my kid, babe, you know it. But get him and his bud in the car, dump them on Alyssa and meet me at your place. Fast.”

He had his gloves off but, as I mentioned, he was still only in his trunks. Thus, as he was speaking, I had a view of his shoulder, which, when he leaned back, became a view of his slick chest.

My eyes lifted to his, and suddenly incapable of speech, I nodded.

His eyes dropped to my dress then came back to my face.

“Fast,” he ordered, his voice low.

“Okay, darling,” I forced out.

He dropped his arm and moved away. I turned my eyes to Bert.

“Hello, Bert,” I greeted.

“Good to see you, Josie,” he replied.

I felt that did well enough for the niceties so I clapped my hands and said, “Right, boys. Let’s go. Time to hit the Cayenne.”

Ethan looked to me. “I dig the Cayenne, Josie, but we wanna ride with Dad.”

“Got stuff to do here, bud. It’s gettin’ late. Go with Josie,” Jake replied.

“But—” Ethan started.

“Bud. Josie,” Jake stated firmly.

Ethan held his eyes then looked to his feet and muttered, “All right.”

I put a hand to Ethan’s shoulder and started herding him and Bryant again, calling my farewell, “I’ll see you at the gym sometime, Bert.”

“Yeah, Josie,” Bert replied.

I looked to Jake. “Later, darling.”

He looked to me and firmly in a way that was not a farewell but a promise, he said, “Later.”

That got a thigh quiver that was very strong so I had to force myself to focus on getting the boys to my car.

I texted Alyssa after I started up the Cayenne and then I took the boys to her house.

Alyssa, in a robe with very mussed hair, answered the door and accepted delivery, but she did this with a sated smile and a lascivious wink.

I winked back (mine probably not lascivious), moved quickly back to my car and drove carefully, but swiftly, to Lavender House.

Jake’s truck was in the lane and I could see lights coming from the windows at either side of the front door.

I got out of the Cayenne and hurried to door.

It opened before I got there.

Seeing it open, in my excitement, I stumbled, but Jake’s arm shot out and caught me around the waist, pulling me forward so I collided with his body. He kept me pressed there as he dragged me into the house, slammed the door and locked it. He then shifted me to the side and pressed me against the wall.

Oh my.

I tilted my head back just in time, for the instant I did, his lips were against mine.

His hands came to my coat and yanked it down my arms.

I dropped my bag and the coat fell to the floor.

“Panties, babe.”

A shiver slid through my entire body.

Jake helped, yanking up my skirt.

I pulled down my panties and they dropped to my ankles.

Jake lifted me free from them and pressed me against the wall at the same time his lips against mine opened.

Sliding my arms around his shoulders, curling my legs around his hips, I reciprocated the gesture and his tongue slid inside.

Having waited for what seemed like years since he walked down the aisle of the arena in his boxing robe, I was so ready for the taste of him, when I got it, I whimpered into his mouth.

One of his hands left my behind and slid through the damp between my legs.

When it did, his lips glided to my ear and his fingers slid from between my legs to go to his training pants.

“My woman gets off on watchin’ her man fight,” he murmured in my ear.

“Yes,” I whispered.

I felt the tip of him, caught my breath, and then he was inside.

“Yes,” I breathed.

“So wet,” he groaned.

“Yes.”

“Fuck yes.”

I held on as Jake pounded inside me, running my nose along his jaw, my lips along his neck, my tongue around his ear.

Jake grunted.

I whimpered.

Jake clenched his fingers into the cheek of my bottom, tilting my hips and he thrust harder.

I moaned.

Jake caught my mouth with his and kissed me rough and deep.

I curled my legs tighter around his hips, slid a hand in his hair and wrapped the other one around the back of his neck, gripping hard.

Jake drove in faster.

It built and I knew it was going to explode so I broke our kiss and whispered against his lips, “Darling.”

“Yeah.”

“Jake.”

“Fuck yeah, baby.”

My lips parted, and as the deliciousness of the orgasm he gave me overwhelmed me, I felt his tongue trace my bottom lip, this making it all the more delicious.

Then his tongue was back inside as he slammed into me, pounding me into the wall.

I kept holding him close, clenching him tight with everything I had, feeling everything he gave me, everything he was giving me, loving every sensation, until he broke the kiss, shoved his face in my neck and thrust deep through a long, beautiful groan.

He held me against the wall, keeping me close, stayed inside as he breathed heavily against my neck and I held on.

Finally, I turned my lips to his ear and whispered, “I love fight night.”

At hearing that, Jake lifted his head, caught my eyes, his still heated, but satiated and happy, his most beautiful look of all, and he smiled.

* * * * *

“She was bullied.”

It was the next morning and I was pushing a cart through the grocery store, Amber at my side. We were preparing for the feeding frenzy that was Sunday in front of football.

And we were talking about Conner’s still unsuccessful, but thankfully undeterred, pursuit of Sofie.

However, this had gone on so long I was getting concerned.

Sofie liked Conner that was clear. Conner liked Sofie and that was abundantly clear because he was pulling out all the stops to make it that way. Alyssa was all for the duo and she’d been making that clear. Junior was not all for it, but like Jake, he was resigned to the fact his daughter would eventually date.