Page 48 of Only You
Phillip smiles, a deep breath releasing through his mouth. “You want to set a date?”
Everyone sits around, just spying on this private moment, but I think Kellan wants that. I think he wants to make it official. “I do. I was thinking December.”
“December?”
He nods at Phillip’s question. “December 21st? The kids will be on winter break, and then you and I can maybe go stay in a cabin for a few days for our honeymoon.” He looks over at Remy and me. “That is, if we can find someoneor someonesto watch the kids?”
I give a nod, and to my surprise, Remy does too. Instantly agreeing.
“That’s next month,” Phillip says softly, but I can see he’s already making plans in his head.
“Everything we need is right here,” Kellan says, sweeping an arm out and around the room.
“You want to get married here?”
“In the back yard,” Kellan confirms.
“In December,” Cason says disbelievingly.
“Yup. Phillip loves the snow. So, if it snows—bonus,” Kellan says without missing a beat.
“Okay,” Phillip says. And then a little more excitedly, he wraps his arms around Kellan’s neck. “Okay. December 21st.”
“Hell yes,” Kellan says and presses his lips to Phillip’s. They keep it PG, but we still all have to give them a hard time before congratulating them of course.
After dinner, Remy and I say goodnight to the family and make our way back to his place. I haven’t even seen the inside of my apartment for a week, and that was just to grab some more clothes so I could head back to Remy’s house.
When we get to his place, we both kick off our shoes and make our way into the living room. “I have to say, even though Phillip might be a bit of a holiday monster, the guy can cook.”
I kick my feet up onto the coffee table and wrap my arm around Remy, flipping through Netflix to get to our favorite show. “Well, without our pumpkin pie, the day would have been a bust.”
He chuckles. “Hey, Tatum?”
My head swivels in his direction, my full attention on him. “Yeah?”
“Are we living together?”
I chuckle and relax when the question doesn’t seem to bother either of us. “I’m not sure. Not officially, I suppose.”
“Do you want to?” He seems shy—even vulnerable—when he asks. It’s intoxicating.
I’m not really nervous or scared to move in together, not at all. But my heart is still thumping wildly in my chest. “I do.”
“Okay,” he says, looking content and happy with my answer. Settling into my side as if that’s that. “We should do that.”
“I’ll move in right now, if you want, Remy.”
He grins over at me, his face lit up beautifully, and once again, I want to fucking say it. “How about tomorrow? I was thinking about digging into the pie we left here. I’m starving.”
We did eat pretty early today. But I’m not hungry for pie or any food at all. Instead, I lean down, nuzzling into his neck and pressing my lips against his skin. “Me too.”
He snickers. “For pie,” he clarifies, but he doesn’t seem at all upset with the direction I’m going instead.
“What if I want something else?” I pretend to pout, lifting my head to look at him.
He rolls his eyes at me but is still smiling. “And what would that something be?”
That’s an easy question. Something else that’s been on my mind for a while now. “When we had that conversation about topping...”
