Challenged by You: A Fusion Universe Novel

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Challenged by You: A Fusion Universe Novel Page 19

by Tracey Jerald


  Recognizing the drowsy look on my son’s face, I push myself to my feet and dust off my jeans. “It’s been an amazing afternoon, but we need to get home if you want yummies for dinner.”

  And even though it’s the right thing to do, I hate the sadness that appears in all three sets of eyes when I make my proclamation.

  Chapter 25

  Trina

  It doesn’t escape my notice that in the few short weeks I’ve known Jonas, my perception of New York has changed as well. Maybe I didn’t appreciate the heart and soul the city was waiting to give to me because I had to earn it first. But with every new experience we have together, I’m falling.

  And not just for the man who’s made it his mission to drive me insane with desire. Elle has made it her mission to ensure Jonas and I get some alone time, even if it’s not an all-night event. Almost as if he can read my thoughts, he rubs a hand over my hip where I banged it on the gear shift after we drove out of the city into Tarrytown and found a secluded park just to be for a few hours the night before last. After ravenously taking me, Jonas rasped against my ear, “God, I haven’t burned that hot for someone since I was a teenager. You set me on fire.”

  Trailing a hand up his leg to find the bare patch of skin exposed by his open jeans, I gasped, “Same. It’s never…not ever.”

  That admission got me another hard, fast ride before we headed back to the city.

  Jonas Rice is a conundrum that keeps me up even when he’s not texting me late at night just to tell me he’s thinking about me. Or sending me his latest review asking me if I think his cousin is going to make a hash of it before it gets posted to the City Lights website. But even in text, the familial love he constantly expresses for Chelsea and Julian is evident. I can’t quite get a grip on his relationship with his uncle, but what do I expect for being three and a half weeks into…whatever this is?

  Then I scold myself. You know what this is. Jonas is quickly becoming one of those few people I trust. I’m amused by the facade of the intense food critic who still writes blistering reviews for City Lights. I now own new laugh lines because of his ridiculous food puns. And I may need to schedule an appointment with my doctor because my heart keeps melting when he’s with my kids.

  Quite simply, we work. The question is, how do we keep on working? It’s something I mull over as we finish watching a famous TV morning show being taped. “I hesitate to admit you might have been right,” I tell him as we make our way from Rockefeller Plaza.

  His reply of “You’ve read my columns; I often am” earns him a friendly punch in the arm. Hooking an arm over my shoulders, he kisses the top of my head. “About what, T?”

  “I was letting what happened in my own life influence what theirs should be like.” I nod down to where the twins are babbling back and forth in their twin speak that is a mangled dialect of the English language. “It’s hard to look backward, disassociate a place with memories, and start again.”

  “That says a lot more about you as a person than it does about me as your tour guide,” Jonas remarks.

  I stop in the middle of the sidewalk as busy New Yorkers pass us by on either side. I don’t take offense to being bumped into or the grumbling beneath their breath. Even a few weeks ago, my world was spinning so fast I’d have done the same. “If I let you off your budget restraint, what’s one thing in New York you couldn’t resist showing us?”

  Jonas is stunned. “You’re serious?”

  I nod. “But Jonas, I don’t want it to be a toy that will be replaced when I hand them a spoon and a pot to bang on. I want it to be something I can remind them of.”

  “Can I push my luck for two? There’s one place I’d take you and one I’d take the kids,” he hedges.

  When I agree, he immediately grabs my face between his hands and kisses me with an enormous smacking sound. “Let’s do the kids one today.”

  “Oh, you’ve been waiting for this moment,” I tease.

  He merely grunts as he types frantically on his phone. “Excellent. We need to catch a cab.”

  “Wouldn’t an Uber be easier?” I gesture to the stroller.

  “No time. We have to be at the Port Authority in an hour.” Stepping to the curb, he places two fingers between his lips and lets out a piercing sound.

  Chris yells, “No, Nono!” Annie agrees by slapping her hands over her ears.

  Jonas turns to apologize just as a minivan taxi pulls up. He helps me get the kids settled before joking, “This isn’t the Cash Cab, is it?”

  “Everyone asks,” the driver grumbles. “Where to?” Jonas rattles off an address. “Ah, the Circle Line. A beautiful day for it.”

  “We’re going on the Circle Line? I’ve never done that,” I say from the seat where I have Annie and Chris clutched tightly to me.

  “Trust me. After this you’ll never be able to look at New York in quite the same way,” Jonas assures me, reaching over the back of the seat to squeeze my arm.

  “Your boyfriend is right. Best way to see New York,” the cabbie says.

  Chills race through me both at Jonas’s touch and at the fact he didn’t correct the driver’s assumption. “Then I can’t wait,” I decree.

  Moments later, through a harrowing ride down to the waterfront, we pull up at one of the terminals. “Boat!” Chris claps his hands together excitedly, whacking me in the face in his exuberance.

  “Hand him over,” Jonas encourages. He’s paid the driver and is holding out his arms as if it’s as natural as breathing for him to help with my family. I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t acknowledge the sight of my towhead son snuggled up in Jonas’s strong arms doesn’t make me ache. Quickly gathering Annie and the diaper bag, we join the guys where they’re waiting.

  “We don’t have much time. It’s a good thing we have reserved seats.” Jonas hurries us to the ticket counter. After making arrangements to store the stroller, we quickly pose for a photo. “Complimentary as part of the ticket price,” Jonas reassures me.

  “Oh, well, thank you.” After we’re welcomed on board, we climb sets of stairs until we reach a cordoned-off area. Four cushioned seats are waiting at the bow of the mostly empty ship. Jonas hands our tickets over, and we’re granted admittance. “Well, we made it.” He grins.

  “For what? What are we going to see today?”

  “You said I could show you New York?” At my nod, he continues. “Then let me show everything. There’s so much to see, Trina. And it’s not as simple as you believe.”

  I’m about to ask him what he means when the captain comes on board to welcome us aboard and identify where restrooms and food are located on board.

  Five hours later, I’m in tears as I listen to the captain explain how his boat was part of the “Miracle on the Hudson” rescue. “I mean, I knew it happened, but to hear this?” I wipe my tears against my arm before a handkerchief is pressed into my hands. “Thanks,” I get out.

  “The story gets to me every time. When you think about how much worse it could have been and how a single person changed the lives of so many.”

  Thoughtfully, I think about the explanation we were just told. “Yes, it was the snap decision made by one. But it’s like what I told you back at Seduction that first day, Jonas. Without an incredibly well-trained team standing behind you, you don’t get those kind of results.” I wave my arm that’s not holding Annie to encompass the Circle Line boat. “The captain of this boat, the police, helicopters, ferries, all responding with all near-perfect coordination? The aircraft crew placing their lives in danger even when they were terrified?” Turning slightly away, I confess, “It’s still why I can’t understand being called out because why? I stood up in the face of adversity against Spencer? It’s ridiculous. We all stood up in that kitchen every single night. It just so happens you witnessed the one time. Why does this have to be an interview about me? Why can’t it be an interview about Seduction’s back-of-the-house staff. Night after night, they’re the true heroes.”

  He opens
his mouth to respond, but Chris takes that opportunity to shove his fist in. I laugh. “Well, I guess that’s one answer, isn’t it?”

  Ruefully, Jonas nips at my son’s hand. “We need to work on your timing, buddy.”

  Clocking him on the cheek, Chris replies, “Okay, Nono.”

  For the next few minutes, we’re all captivated as the ship’s captain docks the beauty. We disembark, collect our souvenir photo and the stroller, and strap the kids in before Jonas halts me.

  “Would it be impossible to get Mrs. McPhearson to watch the kids tomorrow? And don’t think about paying her—that’s part of you agreeing to come with me,” he stubbornly insists.

  Without a word, I pull out my cell. “Mrs. McPhearson? Hi, it’s Trina. Are you interested in watching the kids all day tomorrow starting at…”

  Jonas’s fingers are flying on his phone. Triumphant, he declares, “Eight thirty. We’ll be out all day.”

  I go to let my sitter know, but she’s already confirming the time works perfectly. “So long as you can be back before dinner. I did promise the Landavazos I’d watch their newborn so they could go out for their first anniversary.”

  “That’s more than fair,” I agree amicably. “Anything I can pick up for you on our way home?” I’m already anticipating the answer.

  “If you wouldn’t mind getting me some of those Mallomars from the concession store. They’re so tasty with popcorn.”

  “And if that’s not available?” I almost pray to God they aren’t.

  “Oh, dear. How about those coconut snowballs?” I cringe even as I immediately agree. “You got it, Mrs. McPhearson. See you in a few.”

  “Be safe, dear.” She hangs up.

  Turning to Jonas, I announce, “For the low, low price of Mallomars plus her normal fee, Mrs. McPhearson has agreed to watch the kids tomorrow so you and I can spend the day doing whatever it is you want.”

  The disgust that automatically appears on Jonas’s face the moment I mention the overly sweet marshmallow treat is priceless. “I’d have paid her double. She does realize you’re a pastry chef who can bake her anything, right?”

  “Taste is subjective. After all, what else accounts for me liking you?”

  “What?” Voice filled with disbelief, Jonas stops dead in his tracks.

  “Forget about the fact you’ve got this whole Clark Kent thing going for you—” I notice how he preens beneath the compliment. “—you can be insufferably arrogant. On top of which, you think you’re funnier than you really are.”

  He smirks, making me want to yank his head toward me to wipe off that know-it-all grin. He’s about to retort when his phone beeps. When he slides it from his pocket, his lips change into a soft smile. “Sorry, it’s a new picture of my niece. Well, Chelsea’s daughter.”

  And my heart trembles when he turns his phone around to show me a girl younger than the twins with dark black ringlets. And although it’s too early in our association to let him know what I’m feeling, the joking off-the-cuff character assessment I just gave him didn’t include all the other amazing attributes Jonas Rice has been showing me on a daily basis. The little things that are leading me further down the path of like toward that nebulous term of love in such a short time.

  Our worlds may have collided by mistake, leaving us in this space between, where everything is perfect, but I’m afraid of what happens when whatever juxtaposition rights itself and it all disappears.

  Pulling myself away from the maudlin thoughts, I begin pushing the stroller again. “So, do I need to sell my soul for some dressy clothes for tomorrow, or what?”

  “What you have on is fine. Perfect.” Then, ruining it, he adds, “Though I’m not sure how you’re going to tie the outfit together without all the colors in your backpack, but…hey!” Laughing over the shot in the arm I give him, he presses a kiss to the side of my temple.

  And for the rest of the day, I allow myself to dream this lead to something long-term because for me I’m afraid it’s already becoming real.

  Chapter 26

  Trina

  We’re taking the elevator up to Jonas’s condo, and his arm is holding me tightly against him. “How long can you stay?” His mouth moves against my hair.

  “What time is it?”

  “Just after one.”

  “I don’t have to be back until six. Remember, Mrs. McPhearson has the kids.”

  The elevator dings, doors sliding open. Guiding me out, we walk out entwined to the door of Jonas’s condo. “I feel so much right now.”

  “That’s why they built it, so we wouldn’t forget to feel.” We enter his condo. He slips my jacket off and tosses it on the coat hanger before leading me over to the long leather sofa where we both shuck our shoes. “Heroes come in all shapes and sizes, and that day we were reminded of that.”

  I curl up next to him, snug under the warmth of his arm draped over my shoulder. I let the power of what I experienced fill me. “Sometimes I think we all forget that in the day-to-day responsibilities of just surviving.”

  “What was it like when you found out you were pregnant with the twins?” Jonas shifts me so I’m partially lying across him.

  I frown. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  He runs a hand through my hair, his fingers untangling any catches along the way. “Yes.”

  “Imagine being told you can have the best meal you ever had over and over again anytime you request it for the rest of your life. That’s being a parent for me, every single day.” I run my fingers along the arm banded under my breasts. “But the day I found out I was pregnant was like the fight in the hall with my mother.”

  “Jesus, Trina.” Jonas’s fingers clench in my hair.

  “I understood Will being nervous about becoming a father. I mean, with my own stellar childhood, I was anxious myself. But the further along I was, the more distant he became.” My voice is devoid of emotion. “By the time Chris and Annie were born, we were essentially roommates—not a couple. And when Elle and I put all the pieces together…” My head twists to look out the bank of windows.

  “You walked in on them,” he says flatly.

  I nod. “When the kids were about six months old? And to be honest, Jonas, it was a relief. At the beginning before the lawsuit, I didn’t ask for much—just enough money to help keep the kids in daycare. If he didn’t want to see his children”—I shrug—“well, that was on him.”

  “But something changed.”

  “He didn’t count on his lover having such a fervent desire for children. And Will had two ready-made. He thought they were for the taking; I proved him wrong.”

  “So you kicked their ass.” The harshness of his voice surprises me.

  “I have never, nor will I ever, fight for anything the way I did the custody of those children except their happiness.” It’s a vow.

  He grips my hair until my eyes meet his. “Then count yourself among one of New York’s heroes, sweetheart.”

  My lips part in shock even as he leans forward and brushes the barest of kisses against my lips. “All morning, you were in awe over everyday people who did the same thing you do every single day. Tell me how the fight you went through was different when in the end all you wanted is a better tomorrow for the people you love.”

  Tears fall silently down my cheeks. “Jonas, it’s beautiful you think that, but it’s different,” I protest.

  His chest rises and falls for a moment before he says, “If you say so.”

  I shift until I’m curled on his lap. “But I’m honored you think so,” I whisper in his ear.

  With a groan, he turns his head to the side and takes my lips in a gentle kiss. A moan escapes me, giving him the opportunity to change the angle of the kiss. His tongue lazily strokes across the seam of mine, seeking entrance until I let him in.

  I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers threading through the dark hair growing along the nape of his neck. I tremble as the pleasure courses through my body. God, I need this, need him.
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  The material of his shirt crumbles beneath my fingertips as I grab onto anything I can beneath the onslaught of his kisses. When Jonas tears his mouth away, his dark hair has fallen over his brow. My hand is trembling as I reach up to brush it back. As I pull back, he captures it and presses a warm kiss in the palm. “Be with me. Let me show you what I feel for you.”

  Without losing eye contact, I whisper, “Yes.” Because I need to feel it even if the words are never spoken.

  Jonas’s lips cover mine before fear can override good sense, locking in my decision with the most delicious argument possible.

  Emotion.

  Even as I feed off the combination of raging hunger and the something more pumping between Jonas and me, he lifts me from the couch and carries me to his room. My arms twine around his neck as I hold on for the ride, anxious only to be closer to him however that’s possible.

  Soon, I’m being lowered down to my legs, which promptly give out. “Whoa, sweetheart,” he murmurs, hands sliding beneath my rear to pull me closer to him.

  “You do this to me. You make me weak even as you give me strength.”

  The rasp of his fingers had just breached the skin between my shirt and jeans as I began to speak. At my words, the pads press in, drawing me up. “And you give me gifts I can’t explain. Not just yet.” His hands pull out slightly to catch the hem of my shirt. I barely have time to lift my arms before the garment goes sailing in some direction.

  I lift trembling fingers to the buttons on his shirt while he drags the straps of my bra over my shoulder. Jonas follows his fingers with his lips, tracing every inch of skin along the way. Returning the sentiment, I lean forward once I part his shirt and press my lips to the very core of him—his heart. Beneath my lips, I hear the rapid staccato.

  A flick of his wrist and soon my bra joins my shirt. Quickly, I shove his shirt back and off. Jonas tips me backward until I land on his bed and he’s crawling between my legs. Making quick work of the snap and zipper of my jeans, he pushes them along with my panties to the floor. He spends what seems like an inordinate amount of time dealing with his own before I gasp at the sensation of having his body skin to skin against mine with nothing but the afternoon sun between us.

 

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