Page 79 of Best Laid Plans

Over the next week, Tatum returned to her normal sunshine-and-rainbows self. There were definitely some rough patches—a lot of meltdowns—from it hurting, not having the use of both arms, not being able to wear certain outfits thanks to her cast.

But then she learned she could ask people to sign her cast. Talk about a happy kid. Everyone at the café and all of the staff at her daycare has signed it. And, anytime anyone asks her what happened, she tells them she was trying to fly but forgot her cape. Swear to God, she’s the cutest, most imaginative kid in the world.

Since her big tumble, Tatum hasn’t wanted either of us out of her sight—which has been both a blessing and a curse. At first, we alternated whose place we stayed at every other night, with me always sneaking out to the couch before Tatum woke up. Then, one day, Tatum surprised us all by asking why Natalie and I didn’t share a bed like Nana and Popsie did.

Talk about awkward.

I played the novice dad card and let Natalie handle that one. She sat Tatum down and explained to her that we didn’t share a bed because we didn’t live together and because we weren’t married.

To which Tatum replied, “Why not?” I’m unsure whether she was asking why Natalie and I wasn’t married or why we didn’t all live together—either way, it got my wheels turning.

Why don’t we live together? I mean, we are a family.

After swapping houses for the fourth time in as many days, I convinced Natalie that the two of them should just stay with me—she seemed on the fence at the first, but Tatum’s enthusiasm sold her.

That was step one in my Convince Natalie to Move in with Me Grand Plan. As of right now, we’re still pretending to sleep in separate beds, but baby steps and all that.

Now, here we are on day seven. Tatum’s still sleeping. Natalie’s whipping us up some breakfast, and I’m folding our laundry at the dining room table—literally never something I thought I’d say, and yet, I wouldn’t change it for the world. After Mia, I planned on being a lifelong bachelor, but now I can’t see myself being anything other than a family man.

Which is all the more reason to take a step to make our little family more concrete. I plan to pop the question. Well, notthatquestion, but an important one nonetheless. I want my girls to move in with me, and I’m hoping like hell Natalie says yes.

I’m halfway through the second load of the day—early bird gets the worm and all that—when the scent of bacon lures me to the kitchen. I come up behind Natalie, admiring the way she looks in her flannel pajama pants and tank top. Then again, she could make a sack sexy.

I drag my lips across her neck, speaking against her skin. “Mmm. Smells good.”

She wiggles her ass against me. “Gonna taste good too. Bacon, soft boiled eggs, and toast.”

I grip her hips and place another lingering kiss to her nape. “I’ll go wake Tatum up.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

I make a pit stop at the table and transfer my piles into their coordinating baskets before setting off up the stairs with a hamper in each hand. I go to drop our basket off inmyroom when noise from behind the closed guest room door snags my attention. I shoulder the door open and immediate lose my hold on both baskets, spilling my freshly folded clothes all over…oh, holy shit.

Tatum is sitting in the middle of the floor, looking proud as punch.

“Wha-what is that?” I ask, gesturing to the wine-colored goop covering her from head to toe.

“Lipsticks,” she answers bluntly.

“Lipstick, huh?”

She smiles a wide, beauty queen smile at me. “Yup. Don’t I look hootiful?”

I shake my head back and forth, laughing under my breath.This kid.“You look…why don’t we go show Mama?”

“Yes!” Moving from sitting to standing takes her an extra second or two thanks to her cast, but before I know it, she’s racing down the stairs.

“Oh, good Lord! Not again!” I hear Natalie holler, and I grin. Apparently, this is not a first-time offense.

I step into the room and see Tatum trying to twirl like a ballerina. “Don’t I look hootiful?”

“Tatum. We talked about this,” Natalie says, using her mom voice.

My girl’s eyes fill with tears, and it takes everything in me not to play good cop and come to her defense. But then I’d be the one in the doghouse—no thanks.

When her lower lip wobbles, my knees do too.

“I just wanted to look pretty, Mama.”

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