Page 72 of What It Must Be


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“Thank you for having us, Miss Carlisle,” Colt says, sucking up to her. I close my eyes to avoid them seeing me roll them. When he opens his arms to give her a welcoming hug, I stiffen beside her and quirk asuspecting brow at him. The kid might actually be smart because he drops his arms and takes a step back beside his older brother, who is shaking with muffled laughter.

Eva grabs Colt by the arm and heads down the hallway to the basement stairway and Nathan follows behind them, but heads to the living room to join the guys.

Scar turns to face me, securing her arms around my waist. “Perhaps I should start calling you ‘sir.’ What do you think?”

I place a chaste kiss on her lips. “You can call me whatever you want, baby girl, but I refuse to call you Miss Carlisle ever again.”

“Well, if you want me to be Mrs. Wilson before next season, we should probably start wedding planning,” she points out.

Trailing my hands down her waist, I tuck my hands into the back pockets of her jeans before giving her butt a squeeze. “We’re taking our engagement photos next week. That’s at least one step in the right direction. And if we want all of our family and friends to be there, we’ll need to get married in the summer. Do you prefer July or August?”

“July.”

“Okay, what’s your favorite number?”

“Twenty.”

“July twentieth it is,” I tell her.

She shakes her head before burying her face against my chest. “What day of the week is that even on?”

“Does it matter? We’ll be in Paris—I doubt our friends and family will care what day of the week we get married when they’re in the city of love.”

“Paris?” she questions, looking adorably confused.

I shrug. “You told me your dream wedding would be in Paris. So, Paris.”

Scarlett’s nose wrinkles in that cute way I’ve become obsessed with. “We would need to secure a venue that happens to have that date open. Most venues around here book at least a year, if not two, in advance.”

“Can we hire a wedding planner to help us with that?”

“Well, yes. But are you sure? We don’t have to do a big wedding.”

“Last week at Sunday dinner, your grandma showed me the dream boards you used to make when you were little. Do you know how many you dedicated to your dream wedding?”

“No,” she admits sheepishly.

I hold up three fingers. “Three. And each one of them featured a big, classic wedding in Paris. We’re doing this, Scar. Unless you truly don’t want that anymore, that is.” My eyes move back and forth between hers as I try to read her expression.

A shy smile spreads across her face before she nods in agreement, or maybe it’s in resignation. Either way, I’ll take it. “Okay. Paris in July.” Scarlett cups my cheek and pulls me in for a deep kiss that is cut far too short when the doorbell rings again. I grunt in frustration at the interruption.

“That’s probably Alexa. I’ll get the door and we’ll meet you in the living room,” Scar says, and then she rises to her tiptoes to give me a quick kiss before getting the door.

As I walk down the hallway into the living room, I can’t help the overwhelming sense of gratitude I feel in this moment. I’m surrounded by my best friends, their families, my new family, and the woman I’m falling for. It may be cheesy as hell considering the reason we’re all gathered today, but I can’t help but feel like the most thankful man in the world.

The meal is done and the games have just begun. The ladies are starting a game of Sequence while the men get the kids settled.

After we ate, Carson, Griff and I wrangled up the young ones, put them in jammies, and now we’ve got the kids in the basement theater about to watch a movie with Gemma and her friends.

“Gemma, have you thought about your summer plans at all?” Carson asks her.

“I mean, no. Not really,” she admits with a slight shake of her head.

“Griffin, McKenna, Dakota and I run a summer camp each year for the month of August, and we’re looking for some camp counselors to help run our new figure skating program. Bennett had mentioned you were a figure skater. If you’re interested, let us know. You’re great with kids, and it’s a fun opportunity.”

“Really? That sounds amazing. I’d love to hear more. What’s the camp called?” Gemma asks him.

“Camp Katie. I’ll have McKenna get in touch with you after the holidays, but if you have any questions about how being a camp counselor is, you can ask Nate. He went from being a camp attendee for years to becoming a counselor last summer for our hockey program,” Carson explains.