Page 41 of Challenged By You
I groan. “I said all of that out loud?” Mortified, one hand comes up between us to cover my face while the other slams into his chest.
And feels the racing of his heart under my palm.
“Would you like to get to know me better, Ms. Paxton?” Jonas’s words wash over me, a sweet gauntlet tossed down between us.
And throwing all the reasons why I shouldn’t out the window, I answer, “Yes.”
“Then I’ll pick you up at seven.” Jonas leans down and brushes his lips against mine. He frowns for a moment. “I would have said it could have used a bit more salt.”
I grin against his lips before whispering, “I dare you to tell Elle that as I got my taste when she wiped a mouthful of it across my face.”
Wisely, he holds his tongue before bidding good night to us both. I can’t tear my eyes away from his long, lean-hipped body as he eats up the distance through the alley until Elle physically drags me away. “Trina, your mom,” she reminds me.
“Right. Let’s go get the kids.” We dash for the elevator. As the door close, I turn to her with an enormous smile on my face. “Did that just happen?”
“You’re damn right it did. Let’s go get your littles, then we’ll celebrate.”
And in between the second and third floors, I’m swept into my best friend’s arms, being spun around dancing as she yells, “Oh, my God!” loud enough to wake the dead.
But despite how my mother tries her damnedest to ruin my mood as I pick up my kids, I ignore it. Because no matter how it began, I’m not sure I could be brought down after the way tonight ended.
Chapter 15
Trina
“Shave!” Elle yells.
“Why?” I holler back through the glass door.
“Because it’s not right for a man to slide his hand up legs like yours and encounter fur.”
I choke on the mouthful of water I inhale as I duck my head under the water. “Who says it’s getting that far?” I shout back over the blast of Joan Jett Elle has blaring through her phone in my tiny bathroom.
“Girl, please. That man looked at you last night like he wanted to consume you.”
I pause in the process of raking my nails against my scalp. “Really?”
Then I take cover against the mermaid-frosted glass doors as a new plastic razor comes flying over the gap between the ceiling and the metal frame. “Shave. Everything,” Elle emphasizes.
Figuring it won’t hurt since I have more than the average few minutes allotted for my normal splash and dash to scrape the grime off after a shift is over, I bend over and pick up the pink razor. “Your safety skills suck. Maybe I should see if we need a remedial course in knife safety,” I chatter through my nerves. Quickly pushing my hair over one side, I grab my bottle of cheap conditioner and lather up my legs.
“Less talk and more action, Paxton. You’re on a schedule. Jonas is picking you up in ninety minutes.”
With a yelp, I begin dealing with the layer of hair on my legs. Hesitating half a heartbeat, I debate, “Should…”
“If it involves preparing yourself for a night—potentially all night—with the first guy I’ve seen catch your eye in forever, the answer is yes. Do it. Just hurry,” Elle pleads over the wail of a guitar riff.
Realizing I haven’t much time, I finish up. Turning off the taps, I step out of the shower, wrap myself in a towel, and lotion every inch of skin I can reach. “I can’t remember the last time I pampered myself like this.”
“And just think—” Elle steps up behind me armed with a spray bottle and a comb. “—you haven’t seen anything yet.”
Suddenly an overwhelming fear washes over me. “What the hell is that shit?”
“You won’t recognize your hair after this,” she assures me.
“Will I have any?” I take as big of a step back as I can manage in the space.
“Wait and see,” she says ominously, before dousing us both in a cloud of sweet-smelling fumes. Then she forces me onto the toilet and picks up a tweezer. “Now, hold still.”
