I make my way further into the living room, where Knox and Miles are having a drink. We shake hands and clap backs. “Nice spread,” I say to Miles. “What’s with the breakfast pastries?”
“They’re for Camila. Don’t touch them.”
I’m going to assume it’s a pregnancy craving thing, and I don’t question it.
“It’s a nice tree, mate,” Knox says, admiring the twelve-foot centerpiece.
“Thank you,” Miles replies. “And it’s bong water free.”
I choke on my beer, and Knox looks between the two of us with both hands up. “I don’t even want to know.” He takes a sip from his drink and then turns to me. “When did the happy couple get back?”
“Two days ago,” I answer.
“So, I guess there’s no more swimming in the Dominican Republic for Stella. She’ll sink to the bottom with the size of that rock on her finger.”
I look over at my fiancé, who’s laughing with the girls she’s become inseparable with. Her smile is almost as big as last week when I gave her the Christmas of her dreams. It wasn’t artificial snow on an island but rather real snow at a chalet in Switzerland. Every fireplace, table, and banister was adorned with garland and gold lights. Christmas movies and music played twenty-four seven. If there wasn’t something baking in the oven, it was because we were outside in the snow. Multi-textured stockings hung with each family member’s name, hand-embroidered on them, and after a night celebrating just like our first Noche Buena, we woke up and exchanged gifts.
Hers came in the form of a gold 4 ctw toi et moi pear and emerald engagement ring.
“Alright, Wells is downstairs waiting,” Miles announces, sliding his phone in his pocket and heading to the kitchen. Knox follows him, and I’m about to, but I pause when I catch Stella stalking over toward me.
“Come on, Herbie,” Camila calls out from the elevator door, and Stella covers her smile with the back of her hand.
“You’re so bad.” Taylor drops her head back with a laugh, presses the button, and the door closes.
With Thing 1 and Thing 2 gone, I lean against the back of the couch, pulling the future Mrs. Jonas in between my legs.
“Penny for your thoughts, Stell?”
“No thoughts tonight.” Her raspy voice lights my soul onfire. “Just love.” Her lips hover over mine, and she whispers, “I love you, Jonas.”
I brush my nose over hers before claiming her mouth with mine, loving the way that she still smiles against my lips.
“I love you too, Stell. This year and every year after.”
