“It’s not that,” I say, shaking my head. “And what are you talking about? Ella and I don’t get each other presents.” Except for last year when I gave her the engagement ring, but that was different.

“Maybe not in the past,” she says with a smile. “But she did this year.”

Shit. Does that mean I have to get her something? And if so, then what? I shake my head. I’m getting sidetracked. I shove the candle aside and fold my arms on top of the table. “That’s not what I was going to ask you. I want to know where the hell are you taking Ella tonight.”

Lila shrugs as she reaches for another roll of ribbon. “Out to dinner.”

“Where?” I ask.

“Why does it matter?” she replies, unraveling a bit of ribbon around her hand.

“Because she’s dressed like a whore,” I say bluntly, attempting to throw her off.

But it doesn’t faze her. “She isn’t going to look like a whore. She’s just dressing up to go out.”

“Not to dinner, though. You don’t need to be dressed like that to go to dinner,” I say and point at her dress.

“What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?” She bats her eyelashes innocently. “I’m just wearing a dress.”

“I’m going to agree with Micha on this one,” Ethan chimes in, cracking his knuckles. “I don’t like the dress at all.”

Amusement dances in Lila’s eyes. “You liked it the other night.”

“Yeah, when I was the only one seeing you in it,” he says, extending his hand toward the heap of ribbon Lila unraveled.

Lila grins as she pushes her chair away from the table. “Oh, you two and your jealousy.” She pats Ethan on the top of the head. “It’s so adorable.” She strolls behind him and kisses the top of his head. “I’m going to go see if Ella’s ready,” she singsongs and Ethan checks her ass out as she walks away and leaves the room, calling over her shoulder, “And Micha, feel free to make yourself useful and start tying bows.”

I gape at Ethan. “Is she being serious?”

He cuts a piece of red ribbon. “Yeah.” He drops the scissors onto the table. “But it’s your fault.”

“Why the hell is it my fault?”

“Because you’re the one who wouldn’t just drive to Vegas and elope.”

I reach over the table and pick up a roll of ribbon. “That sounds more like your kind of marriage than mine.”

He nods in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right, still though. We wouldn’t have to be sitting here, tying ribbon like a couple of whipped pussies.”

I fiddle with the ribbon, stifling a laugh. “So what am I supposed to be doing?”