Page 30 of Challenged By You
“Girlfriend, you’d better be ready to spill all! The chat has been blowing up since yesterday. Boy, are you in trouble for not letting me know an ooey, gooey bite of dessert came to interview you for…” Elle pushes past me and comes face-to-face with Jonas. “Well, this certainly changes my plans for the evening, doesn’t it?”
“Aunt Elle!” This time it’s Annie racing down the hall. Then she catches sight of Jonas and changes directions. “Nono!” Confused, she stops, uncertain which to go to. Finally she gives up deciding and races back to the living room on her tiny legs, arms in the air, shrieking, “Chris!”
Elle, never being slow to catch on, reaches her hand out. “Hi, Nono. I’m Aunt Elle. Nice to meet you. It appears Trina hasn’t had a chance to catch me up on a few things.” The sizzling look my best friend gives me tells me I’m going to pay for this.
Jonas takes her hand. “Nice to meet you, Elle. Jonas Rice. Trina has mentioned you to me, though only in passing. If you two have standing plans, I can let you both enjoy the food and take my leave.”
Elle’s smile widens. “No, Jonas. Stay a while. It will prevent T and I from getting sick on this.” She shoves the box in his chest before moving into the living room with the comfort of a longtime friend. “Where’s my babies?”
Both of my children return to greet her with cries of “Aunt Elle!” Soon there’s shrieks that cover my apology, “I’m so sorry. I forgot we usually spend our first night off each week together.”
Critically examining the box, he proclaims, “Apparently trying to rid the lining of your stomachs of a few layers. Jesus, I think the last time I drank this stuff was college, and it was crap back then.”
I clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter when Elle yells, “You don’t want to know how much we drank the night Trina got canned, then! A spoonful of sugar helps that swig go down with less puking. Trust me, we’re experts.”
Jonas sighs when I move past him into the kitchen to pull another plate off the stack the Chinese place so helpfully provided. “I take it there’s no secrets between the two of you.”
“None whatsoever,” I assure him.
“Especially since the night we found out our guys were together! And I do mean that in every way your mind can imagine it. Bonds sisters over misters together in a whole new way. Umph, Chris, I swear you’re getting bigger every day,” Elle huffs out.
“The walls are very thin inside the apartment,” I explain, but Jonas turns me to face him. His face has lost all of its humor. Mentally, I sigh, knowing this is where the light flirtation ends. “Ask away,” I say dully.
“What Elle said, was it true?” The chocolate of his eyes is scorching. If I was working with it, I’d cast it out and start over, I think idly. “Trina.” Jonas grabs my arms and shakes me lightly.
“Yes,” I burst out. “And even though he didn’t want me, Will wanted to give Erik my babies. How. Dare. He? They used Elle, used me, all while having an affair with each other. And do you know what? I don’t care what it cost me in lawyer’s fees. I’d do it again to fight to keep my children when their father didn’t want them to begin with. Because that’s what a mother does—she lays down her damn soul to give everything to her child.” I’m breathing hard by the time I finish.
Maybe that’s why I don’t realize Jonas has sunk one hand into my hair and is tipping my jaw up with the other. “The first time I saw you, I saw all this fire burning inside of you. I was infuriated Spencer was trying to put it out and I didn’t have the chance to touch it. The second time, you threw your attitude in my face and walked away. Now it’s right here—what am I supposed to do about it?” His head starts to lower even as he continues to stroke my jaw.
But just as his lips are about to meet mine, I hear, “Mama, hungry!” in the distance. “Jesus, what am I doing? I have to get the kids fed.” I spin around and grab the counter.
“Yeah.” Jonas steps back. “Why don’t I tell you what I got? Then we can figure out what to plate up?”
“That sounds good.” I’m so lying. What sounds better than the luxury of takeout Chinese is finding out what Jonas Rice tastes like because I suspect it’s better than anything I’m about to serve up for dinner.
When I face him, I suspect he feels the same way judging by the flush riding high on his cheeks.
Softly, I tell us both, “It’s going to be a long night.”
Then I laugh when Elle yells, “I bet some wine would help with that!”
* * *
“Let me see that receipt.”Now Jonas has left and Annie and Chris are down, Elle and I have begun our weekly ritual of decimating the box of wine, though we’re moving at a much slower pace than usual.
“Why? An attractive single man bought dinner. What’s the big deal?” she asks before flicking it in my direction.
“We made a deal. He’s on a strict budget.”
Elle howls. “For how long?”
I think back to what I first said to Jonas. “I think I told him he couldn’t live on a budget like mine for a month.”
“Did you give him…” Elle’s laughing so hard she has to hand me her glass. “Numbers and shit?”
“I did. Oh, God, Elle, I was such a twat.” I bury my head in my arms, still holding her drink steady. “And a week later, he showed up to apologize and ended up being committed to learn about how someone in our position lived.” At her sputtering, I finish, “For the article.”
“So, let me get this straight. Jonas Rice—who is as damn fine as the rumor mill says—lets you blast him.”
