Page 42 of Love Me Gently

I pulled my phone out of my clutch as my heels clicked on the wood floor entrance to our penthouse. Behind me, the elevator doors slid shut and Jonathan’s shoes made a heavier thump.

His arm wrapped around my stomach, and he pulled me back to his chest. Peppering my throat with kisses, he murmured, “Have I told you how gorgeous and stunning you are tonight?”

“Several times.” I dropped my clutch to the floor and with my phone in one hand I spun around so we were facing each other and draped my arms over his shoulders. “But you can tell me often, as many times as you’d like.”

He slid his hand up my left arm and tugged it down so my palm was flat to his chest. His fingers spun the gold band he’d set on my ring finger at dinner two hours ago. I was still blinded when I looked at it. Four carat, princess cut, something or other. He’d explained it to me, but I was in far too much awe at the ring, at the engagement to pay attention.

Truthfully, after a year, I was still far too in awe of the man smiling down at me to pay attention to much of anything.

“The ring is so beautiful,” I told him, whispering like the spoken word would shatter the beauty of it. Man, itsparkled.

“It’s salt and stone compared to its owner.”

His lips came down and brushed against mine, and like every time he kissed me, I leaned in and craved more. But tonight there were people to call. Plans to start making.

Jonathan could wait a few more minutes.

“Wait,” I whispered and pulled back, cupping my phone to my chest. “I just need to call Stella and my parents.”

I’d already texted them but hadn’t heard a word back. For my parents, that was becoming more common. With Stella, I shouldn’t have been surprised.

She was still waiting tables but had gotten her degree, so she was also working full time. Our lives had taken us in radically different directions. In fact, as I stared at my phone screen, I couldn’t remember the last time we’d talked. Or seen each other.

Jonathan’s fingers wrapped around the edge of my phone, and he plucked it from my hands.

“Hey.” I reached for it but he pushed me back so it was out of my reach.

Confusion knitted my brows, and I laughed softly. “I want to call my parents.”

“Later.” The softness in his expression dimmed and his nostrils flared as I frowned up at him. “They can wait.”

“They’re my parents, silly.” I reached for my phone again, but he held it out of my reach. “Jonathan, come on. I want to tell them the good news.”

His free hand wrapped around my wrist and yanked it down to my side with such force I stumbled a step forward. “Hey…careful.”

“You can call them later. Besides, it’s not like they’ll come to the wedding.”

He let go of my hand and began unbuttoning his suit coat like he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of me.

“That’s not nice. They’ll be happy for me. For us.” I spun on my heels and then kicked them off. The move put me a good eight inches shorter than him. “Why would you say that?”

He tossed his suit coat onto the counter and began unbuckling his cufflinks. He barely spared me a glance as he said, “Because they don’t like us together, and because they’re too simple. You’re too good for them.”

I gaped at him. Jonathan could be ruthless. I’d seen it at business dinners and with some of my contracts his lawyers now always looked over, but he’d never been so rude to me. Not once.

“Hey.” I set my hand on his shoulder and pressed my front to his side. “Be nice.”

He dropped a cufflink and began working on his tie. “Get me a bourbon, would you? I need a drink.”

I blinked at him. Blinked again. “Please?” I teased.

He turned to me, brows arched. “Get yourself a glass of wine, too.”

What the heck? I dropped my hand from his shoulder and stepped back. Whatever was going on with him, whatever came with the sudden change in mood I doubted a whiskey would fix but whatever.

I grabbed his drink, poured a glass of white for myself and brought both back to the island where he still rested, scrolling through his phone. Mine was on the counter so once I slid his drink toward him, I reached for it.

His hand slammed down onto mine, and I jumped. “Jon?—”

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