"Does it hurt?" I touch the spot where I bit him.
"Not enough to complain. The harder you bite, the better job I'm doing. Bite all you want, baby," he says pleased with himself, making me giggle.
"I should make reservations for us to have dinner after the wedding and maybe go out to celebrate. Where do you want to go?" he asks suddenly and shifts around, searching for his iPhone.
I don't want him to move. I want to stay like this, snuggled on his lap.
"Let's just go to a buffet," I grin against his neck and kiss him. "I hear the one at Caesars Palace is spectacular."
"Seriously?" he's surprised.
"Sure."
"You're unexpected, Ellie, just another reason I love you so much," he kisses my hair.
"It's just food, and the buffet has lots of it. Marie and Sam can party on, if they want. I would rather you bring me back here so we can make good use of that massive bed and that tub," I leer up at him.
"Whatever you want, baby."
"I should call Rob. He won't forgive me, if I don't make him part of this wedding," I suddenly realize my bestie can't miss this significant day.
"I already called him," he informs me.
I look up at him, grinning.
Of course he did. My thoughtful husband!
He kisses me lightly on the tip of my nose. "I'll ask Marie to FaceTime him at the wedding. She packed a bag for you, by the way. We'll pick it up from her room later."
"Thank you, baby," I bury my face in the nape of his neck again and take in his scent. That sensual, delicious Jack scent I'll be waking up to the rest of my life.
"You know, our parents are probably going to kill us for eloping," I say, nibbling gently at his neck.
"Yea, probably," he agrees between moans, as our hands are intertwined, our fingers playfully twisting.
"We can have another wedding. Would you like that?" he offers.
"Would you?"
"If it would make them happy and if you want to, of course."
"Would it make you happy?" I look up and gaze into his eyes.
"Ellie, I'd marry you again every year, easily."
I smile at him and kiss him on the corner of his lips.
"I suppose another wedding would be okay. It will certainly make the talking-to we're going to get a lot easier."
"That's for sure," he chuckles. "What kind of wedding do you want, large or small?"
"Small, I think. Just close friends and family, at the beach or a vineyard, maybe. Catalina Island would be nice, if it's not too expensive."
I'm examining him, playing with his hair, tracing his lips, touching his face.
My Jack, my husband.
"Don't worry about the cost, baby. I will always take care of you."
"I'm sure you will, Jack, but I don't want us spending money we don't have. I mean, don't get me wrong, I can spend money. But now that we're going to be family, I have to be more careful and so do you."
"I make enough money, baby," he assures me and caresses my cheek.
"I don't know what you make, and I'm not asking you to disclose your finances right now. I just want us to be financially responsible. And…I can't believe that statement just came out of my mouth," I laugh.
"I don't only manage the chain of coffee shops, Ellie, I own a majority stake. My company — our company, Milian Ventures & Investments — not only owns JP Cafetería but has other investments, and it's doing exceptionally well. We're not multi-millionaires yet, but we're well on our way. Believe me. We're in a great place financially."
I look at him incredulous. Not because I don't believe him, but because this is all news to me.
He owns his own company?
"Well, aren't you a catch, lucky the bitch that nabs you!" I tease.
He laughs openly. "Yes, she is," he kisses me. "So, about that wedding…" he continues.
"Still small," I rest my head on his shoulder again. "Catalina would be nice. I want something cozy, intimate, and fun all at the same time. It should be a celebration of our love. I'd like people to enjoy themselves, like a big, fun party. Of course we'll have a priest marry us, bless our union, but after that, it should be party. I don't want any snobbery, people snickering about the chicken or fish, or if the flowers are up to their expectations. We'll give them tacos, and they'll like it," I giggle and he laughs. "It should just be a fun celebration, like the wedding scene in the movie Mamma Mia! Remember?"
"Never seen it," he scoffs.
Of course he's never seen it…We'll have to rent it, and I'm positive he'll watch it just to please me.
"Well, like that, pure fun."
"How soon do you want to do it?"
"I don't know. I'm in no hurry. We're going to be married like in ten minutes, so it's a done deal. Six months, a year, two years," I shrug.
"Six months, at the most," he says. "I want to share that moment with you as soon as possible."
"Okay, six months at the most," I kiss him.
CHAPTER 45
JACK AND I are in the elevator holding hands, heading down to the lobby to meet Sam and Marie.
He looks pensive.
Something's on his mind.
"What is it, baby?" I look up at him adoringly.
"Will it be Mrs. Valencia-Milian or…" he trails off. "I'm okay with either," he promises.
I know which would make him happier, and the truth is I'd be delighted to take on his last name.
"Mrs. Milian," I confirm elated and completely sure of my decision.
He nods okay, smiling broadly.
"Oh, by the way, Mrs. Milian," he pulls me into a tight embrace. "I don't have a diamond ring for you. I want you to choose it. I want to see your eyes light up, when you find the perfect one."
I reach up and kiss him softly on the lips.
"You are the light in my eyes, Jack, but thank you. We'll choose the perfect one together."
He kisses me back, "Okay, let's go get hitched!"
●●●
The chapel is beautiful, exactly what I would've chosen had I been in charge of the planning. It's chic, refined, with neutral tones and romantic lighting. The aisle is adorned with big bouquets of white roses and calla lilies.
Just like our suite.
It's simple, elegant, and breathtaking.
"You did this?" I gaze at him completely in love.
"Sam," he confesses.
I turn to Sam, who is standing behind us, and hug him.
"Congratulations," he says sweetly.
"Thank you!"
I'm thanking him for chasing after Marie and bringing Jack as his wing man.
I'm thanking him for supporting me — even reluctantly — when I went to confront Mike.
I'm thanking him for having our back, when he found out Jack and I were seeing each other, and for having Jack's back, when he talked to Mike.
I'm basically thanking him for bringing Jack to me.
The officiant is waiting for us. It's time to walk down the aisle, but Marie won't let us, until she's taken enough photos and videos of Jack and I entering, kissing, gazing into each other's eyes. Take after take to document this day for our friends and family, she insists.
She's done ten minutes later, when Jack kindly makes her stop.
"Marie, I'd really like to marry my baby now, please," he gives her an enough-is-enough grin, and she concedes.
We're standing at the entrance of the chapel, where Marie placed us just seconds ago, so Rob can see every detail through FaceTime.
We're embracing, gazing into each other's eyes.
"Are you ready to marry me?" he pulls me in tighter.
"Yes," I look at him enamored.
"I'm going to be yours in a second, Ellie, and you'll be mine forever after," he's lovingly gazing into my eyes, holding me tightly.
"I'm already yours, Jack, forever. I was yours even before we met. You have my heart," I kiss him tender
ly on the lips.
He kisses me back and whispers,
"You Are My Heart."
EPILOGUE
THE VOWS
JACK
Ellie, I love you. I took a few detours after finding you, but I know that any road I could have ever taken would have ultimately led me back to you. You are my light, my reason, my sanity, my motivation, my love. In a thousand years, I'll still be in love with you, adoring you, appreciating you, craving you. I will support you, take care of you, and treasure you for the rest of your life. My heart is open, wide open for you. I am completely yours. Thank you for fighting for me, for not giving up on me, for loving me, for choosing me. I choose you too, Ellie Isabel Valencia, my everything, my wife, my Mrs. Milian.
ELLIE
Jack, I love you. I loved you even before we met. I was put on this earth for you, because in the midst of darkness, it was you I found. You are my rock, my love, my reason, my genie-in-a-bottle wish come true. I love every single part of you, inside and out. I love your kindness, your heart, your sincerity, your spontaneity, the way you look at me, the way you love me. I love that you took me to the top of the mountain, literally and figuratively. You are my heart, my soul, my happiness. You are my everything, my truest love now and forever. I choose you too. Thank you for seeing me, for loving me, my husband, my love, my Jack.
THE "TALK"
Jack, Mike, and Sam
Sam: I'm meeting you at Mike's
Jack: What? Who told you?
Sam: Who'd you think? Ellie's worried
Jack: It'll be fine
Sam: I know. I'll just stay outside in case he throws you out the window
Jack: Fuck you!
Sam: Ok asshole
●●●
I'm already outside Mike's apartment, when Jack arrives. I have to keep these two fools from killing each other, so Ellie doesn't end up without a boyfriend.
Shit, and to think I'm partially responsible for their hook up. I would've never guessed they'd end up together.
Jack looks annoyed that I'm here and gives me a "hey" tilt of the head, as he walks toward Mike's apartment.
Fuck, I told him I'd stay outside, but fuck it!
"Hey, man, come in," Mike welcomes Jack and leaves the door open.
Before Jack can close the door, I hold it and walk in behind him. He turns to me and sneers.
"What's up, Sam," Mike greets me. He doesn't see anything odd that I'm here too.
"Grab some beers from the fridge," Mike says.
I take the hint and head to the kitchen. I can already feel the tension building up, as Jack prepares to confront Mike.
Mike sits on the sofa to continue watching the soccer game on TV. Jack sits on the armrest.
I grab the beers from the fridge, close the door, and lean against it. I figure from here it'll take me seconds to get to them, if they come to blows.
I'm so fucking grateful this studio is so small.
"I need to talk to you," Jack begins.
"About what?" Mike replies, distracted by the game.
"Ellie," Jack's tone is serious.
Mike turns to Jack frowning, looks at me, then back to Jack. "Why's he here?"
"To keep the peace," I reply and place the beers on a small table near the fridge.
"So talk," Mike turns to Jack, his expression hardened. He rolls his eyes and then looks back at the TV. He knows he's not going to like what Jack has to say.
"I love her, and she loves me," Jack says bluntly.
Mike's gaze remains on the game.
"Beer," orders Mike and stretches his arm toward me.
I hand it to him, give Jack his, and step back to the fridge. Jack's looking at his beer, waiting for Mike to respond.
"How do you know," Mike questions Jack, "that she loves you?"
"Come on, man. You want details?" Jack stares at him.
"Fuck yea, I want details. One day she's in love with me and the next, you think she loves you?" Mike's tone is critical and recriminating.
"I don't think," Jack answers calmly but forcefully, "I know!"
"What the fuck, Jack. How the fuck..."
"It's kind of my fault," I interrupt. "I forced them to interact, because I needed a wing man. Marie wouldn't go out otherwise."
"Fuck you, Sam. Stay out of this. He's the fucking traitor," Mike points angrily at Jack with his beer. "It's his fault!"
"It's your fault, Mike," Jack eyeballs him, "and frankly, I'm grateful."
"Grateful, motherfucker!" Mike shouts at Jack and stands up, staring him down.
"Yea, grateful, because I love her," Jack replies vehemently. "And it is your fault. Don't forget we know what you did to her, how you treated her. We were there every time you walked away, every time you made her feel like shit. You discarded her!"
"So you saw an opening and pounced on her, piece of shit!" Mike counters angrily.
"Fuck you, man! That's not what happened." Jack is shouting back at him.
"How did it happen? Fuck, Jack, there are thousands of women in this city. Why her?" Mike sneers, pissed.
"We didn't plan it. It just happened," Jack replies more calmly.
"Nothing just fucking happens, asshole!"
"I told you how it happened," I interrupt Mike.
"Fine, Sam," he stares me down. "But Jack didn't have to move in on her," he points at him, his fuming eyes burning into Jack.
"She's special. I fell for her," says Jack.
"I know she's special, thank you! I was with her for three fucking years," Mike scoffs.
"Then why'd you let her go?" Jack questions him, knowing he won't have an answer, not one that makes any sense.
Mike paces around, his anger and frustration boiling over. He can't come up with a rational answer.
"Fuck you. She loves me! I've told you that a million times. I told you she'd always be mine, and I can get her back whenever I want!"
"You did say that," Jack says evenly, "and I believed you and almost lost her. We love each other. Those are the facts right now."
"Have you fucked her?" Mike scowls.
"Fuck you, asshole!" Jack stands up livid.
"I was her first. Did you know that? She chose me. You can never have that!" Mike's words reek of poisonous scorn.
Jack closes his eyes for a second, as in pain from Mike's vile jab, but he's just trying to control his anger. When he opens them, he's reined it in enough to respond.
"I'll be her last," he says calmly. He knows Mike's just trying to push him to his breaking point. But Ellie is his, only his, and that's a fact. "And that's what matters."
"Son of a bitch!" Mike swings at Jack, but Jack deflects the fist that's heading straight for his jaw.
I jump between them, and hold Jack back from returning the punch and ending him — Jack can take him and two more at the same time.
"Stop, you fucking morons!" I scream at them. "You're fucking friends, assholes. Remember that!"
"Fuck you, Sam. This is your fault!" Mike hisses at me.
"Fuck you, Mike! It's about fucking time you take responsibility for your own fuck ups!" I'm in his face, pointing at him. "You fucked up and lost. Deal with that shit!"
I step away and look from one to the other. "We've been friends since we were kids. Can't you work this shit out?"
"Not going to happen today," Mike says with a disdainful tone, sits on the sofa, and stares at the game.
"I'll always consider you my friend, Mike, but I love her, and I'm not letting her go. I thought I owed it to you to tell you in person," says Jack steadily.
Mike takes a long drink of his beer, ignoring him.
Jack knows this conversation is over, places his bottle of beer on the floor and leaves. I follow him and close the door behind me.
"Fuck! Now what?" I say, rattled by what just happened.
We're walking toward the cars to leave, when he abruptly stops.
"Now
I marry her," he says, as if that's the logical answer to my rhetorical question.
"What the fuck! Did he hit you on the head, when I wasn't looking?"
"Fuck off! Are you going help me or not?" he responds.
"Help you? Fucker, this isn't something you can decide on your own. How do you know she even wants to marry you?"
"I asked her this morning, and she said yes." He's grinning from ear to ear, like he just had an epiphany.
"Ooookay. So, when's the wedding?" I ask stupefied, because he's insane.
"Today," he responds with total certainty.
"What the fuck, Jack! It's settled, you won, she's yours. You don't have to rush into anything!"
"I'm not rushing. I just know." He's still grinning like the idiot he is.
"So, how is this going to happen today exactly?" There's no way they can get married on a Saturday afternoon in LA.
"Vegas, I'm going to surprise her."
"You're out of your fucking mind, Jack! What if she doesn't want to marry you today?" He's not making any sense, the fool.
"Then we'll just have a helluva weekend in Vegas."
"Are you sure?"
"Yea, man, if she's not up for marrying me today, I know we'll get married soon, though I'm hoping for today. Are you in or not?"
"Of course, you romantic son of a bitch," I smirk.
"Fuck you!" He stares me down grinning. "Just make reservations for us at the Aria, Bellagio or something similar. A big suite for us, and ask them to fill it with flowers, white roses to start. And of course rooms for you and Marie, unless it's just one room for you guys…" he trails off.
I shake my head no. "We're a better match as friends."
"Okay, here's my card. And book a chapel too, a nice one. I mean it, Sam. I don't want Elvis marrying us," he demands.
"No Elvis, check. And what will you be doing while I'm working my fingers to the bone?"
"My assistant, Georgia, will help you with the documents for the marriage license," he's texting her as he speaks. "Drop me off at a car rental in Beverly Hills," he continues ordering, like a fucking drill sergeant.
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