Page 214 of Small Town Firsts

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 immediately 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.”

Natalie lets out an exasperated sigh. “You always look pretty, Tater Tot. You know better than to play with my makeup.”

“I know. I sorry. I just wanted to be pretty like you!”

That’s when I step in; I can’t stay silent a second longer.

I squat down so that Tatum and I are eye level. “What do I call you?”

She tilts her head and blinks before smiling. “Pretty girl.”

“That’s right. You’re my pretty girl. I know Mama’s lipstick seems shiny and fun, but it’s for grownups. Not little girls. Okay?”

She pouts a little but agrees. “Okay. I sorry.”

Nat grins at me; I hope that means I nailed this. I’m thinking we work great as a team.

Natalie takes Tatum upstairs to the bathroom, leaving me to plate up our breakfast. Really, this couldn’t have worked out better had I planned it.

I bring our food out, along with the silverware and drinks. Only, I leave something extra special on Nat’s napkin.

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