Forever Wild(16)

Jonah’s head falls back in a burst of deep laughter.

“Shhh! You’ll wake them up!” I warn, nudging his thigh with my toes, but I’m giggling, too.

“Remind me to never agree to do anything like that.”

“I thought you wanted kids,” I mock.

“Not to piss on me.”

“That’s what they do. They pee and vomit on you, and they smear their poop all over the walls like it’s finger paint.” According to Sharon, anyway. I’ve kept in touch with the old receptionist from Alaska Wild over email. She and Max are enjoying their time in Portland with baby Thor, though she says Max is itching to come back.

“Fine. My kids can do that on me. Other kids can do that on someone else.”

I smile. Hearing Jonah talk about kids and being a parent doesn’t spark the same tension it used to, back when we were charging headfirst into this relationship without pause. In fact, it no longer fazes me. Sometimes I find myself wondering how many we’ll end up having, what they’ll be, and who they’ll take after more. Will they have my hair? Jonah’s eyes?

Will Jonah’s son inherit those same adorable dimples that used to hide behind that unruly beard of his?

His stubbornness?

His love of flying?

Jonah catches me staring at him. A curious look flickers across his face. “What?”

“Nothing.” The truth is, if we had a repeat of this past summer and the pregnancy test turned out positive rather than a scare, I don’t think I’d be so fearful of the idea. At the same time, I’m not ready to share Jonah’s undivided attention just yet. “What happened here? Besides the epic disaster in the kitchen.”

“Not much. Came home around one, moved them over, we hung out, ate dinner.”

“No more fighting with Bj?rn?”

“He had a four-hour nap, woke up in time for my mom to serve him his dinner, and then he went back to bed an hour ago. I barely saw him.” Jonah smirks. “Let’s hope jet lag messes with him until he leaves.”

Not likely, but a sleepy Bj?rn might make for a more pleasant Christmas under this roof.

Jonah peels off my sock and wraps his large hands around my foot so I don’t feel the chill. “My mom brought up the wedding. Asked if we’ve thought about a date yet.”

“Yeah, she mentioned it this morning, too.” “With her health the way it is, I don’t want her flying back and forth for our wedding.”

I knew that was coming. “What did she say about it?”

“It doesn’t matter what she says. She’ll still fly, even if she shouldn’t. But I’m not good with it.”

“I know.” And, as much as Jonah jokes about running off and eloping, I know he would want his mother there. “What do you want to do, then?” I feel like I already know where this conversation is heading, and a tiny, selfish part of me wants to resist.

Jonah bites his lip in thought, watching me carefully. “I was thinking—”

“You are not wearing lederhosen,” I blurt.

He frowns. “What? Why would I wear those?”

“Are you about to suggest we get married in Oslo?”

“Fuck. No.” He shakes his head to emphasize that. “I was gonna ask if you’d consider getting married now, while they’re here.”

I groan. “Not you, too.”

His frown deepens. “What do you mean?”

“Toby and I were talking about your mom and her health issues, and he said we should do it now and Teddy could officiate.”

“Teddy?”

“Yeah. Apparently, he’s certified to officiate over weddings.”

Jonah snorts with disbelief, but then his brow furrows in serious thought.

I know that look taking over his face. It’s one of determination.

“No.” I shake my head.

Jonah grasps my calves, drags my body over, and pulls me up to straddle his lap. His arms curl around my body. “Why not?” His blue eyes twinkle with earnestness.

I laugh. “Because it’s too rushed, and because Diana’s not here, and because … it’s too rushed!” All the obstacles that have cycled through my mind spill out. “I don’t want to just sign a paper and be married! That’s not a memorable day for us!”

“So, then, we make it memorable.” There’s a hint of challenge in his voice.

“Oh, come on! In a week? How? Things take forever up here on a regular day, and it’s the Christmas holidays, and there’s a massive winter storm coming that’s probably going to knock out power for days. And, I mean, good luck getting any flowers or a decent dress or a caterer. And what about a honeymoon—”

“Okay. Whoa. Relax. It was just an idea.” Jonah lifts his hands in the air in a sign of surrender. “I’m not gonna pressure you to marry me.”

“I am marrying you. Remember?” I wave my hand to show off my diamond ring.

He sighs, and I can tell something is weighing on him.

“What is it?”

“Honestly? You’ve had that ring for four months now. I guess I figured you’d be itching to make some plans, but you don’t seem to be in any rush.” His jaw tenses. “I’m beginning to wonder if you have doubts.”