Page 78 of Pastel Kisses

We spend the next hour eating and catching up, laughter flowing easily around the table. Kam and my dad tag-teamed the food like seasoned pros, and there’s enough to feed an army—or seven hungry males and a very pregnant woman. Roman sits beside me, his voice soft as he fills me in on something unexpected.

“Hey, I wanted to tell you myself,” he says, glancing over to Marco. “A couple of months after you disappeared, Mrs. Fry decided to sell The Sweet Tooth. Said it was time to retire and move down to Florida with her sister.”

My breath catches. “She sold it?”

He nods, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “To me. She said she knew I’d take care of it the way you would’ve wanted. I hope that’s okay.”

Relief floods my chest, and I smile through the emotion welling in my throat. “It’s more than okay. I’m glad it stayed in the family.”

Roman exhales dramatically. “ThankGod. I’ve been sweating that moment for months.”

As the sun dips low and the day winds down, Roman and Marco say their goodbyes. They both hug me tight, Roman kissing my cheek with a dramatic flair.

“We aresogoing to be the best uncles ever,” he promises, wiping an imaginary tear. “Just wait till the baby’s old enough for glitter.”

Marco just chuckles and pulls me into one more hug. “We’re so happy you’re back, Avery. You’re exactly where you belong.”

And as they head to their car, I watch them go with a full heart, my hand resting protectively over my bump. I am exactly where I belong—with my family, and this little life growing inside me.

Home.

Later that evening, I’m parked cross-legged on the hotel couch in the oversized living room, surrounded by cozy blankets, binging a feel-good Netflix show, and devouring leftover chicken legs from the barbeque like it’s my last meal on Earth.

The TV plays in the background, but I’m way more invested in this chicken than the storyline. Kam’s homemade barbeque sauce is a religious experience—sweet, smoky, tangy perfection—and I swear it gets better with every bite. My face is probably a disaster, coated in sauce, but I couldn’t care less.

Lennox and Liam are sprawled on the right of me, watching me like I’m the most entertaining thing in the room. They’re loving this messy, unapologetically pregnant version of me—greasy fingers, sauce-stained lips, and all. And honestly? I kind of love it too.

“This sauce is actual magic,” I mumble around a mouthful of chicken, licking my fingers with zero shame. “Kam better teach me how to make it or I’m staging a kitchen coup.”

Liam chuckles and gently rubs my belly with one hand. “What do you think, little one? You like this food as much as Mommy does?”

I grin, not even bothering to wipe my face before answering. “What’s it look like?” I ask with my mouth half-full, causing everyone to burst into laughter. Even I join in, knowing I probably resemble a toddler post-birthday cake.

Kam strolls over from the kitchen with another leg in hand like the hero he is. He settles beside me and places a kiss on the crown of my head before handing it over. “She can eat whatever the baby needs… and then one more just for herself,” he teases, rubbing my belly as he winks at the others.

“Dick,” I mutter playfully, grabbing the leg with enthusiasm. “But thanks.”

He grins and leans back on the couch, still massaging my belly in slow, calming circles. “Are you excited for the baby? You hoping for a boy or girl?”

I pause, letting the question settle. The laughter quiets as the room softens around me.

“Honestly?” I say, gazing down at my bump. “It doesn’t matter. That’s why I didn’t want to find out the gender. As long as this little one’s healthy, I’ll be the happiest person alive.”

Everyone nods, the moment turning quietly tender. And then—because I’m nothing if not a woman ruled by cravings—I take another bite of chicken and moan dramatically.

“Oh my god, Kam. You better never break up with me or I’m taking this recipe in the separation.”

Kam’s laughter rumbles beside me, warm and rich, his hand still resting protectively on my belly. The room is filled with an easy kind of happiness, the kind that wraps around you like a blanket and makes you feel weightless.

But then his tone shifts—still playful, but laced with something deeper.

“Which reminds me…” Kam manages through the last of his laughter, his eyes locking onto mine with a spark of mischief and something more serious beneath. “When you agreed to marry us—did you actually mean it?”

The question hangs in the air, and my breath stutters—not because I’m caught off guard, but because it lands differently this time. Not tangled in the heat of passion or shouted into the ceiling as my world came undone and rebuilt itself around them. This time, it’s spoken in the quiet aftermath, wrapped in laughter, love, and barbecue sauce.

I blink up at Kam, searching his face. For a split second, I wonder if I should meet his teasing grin with sarcasm. But the look in his eyes—the steady, grounded certainty—makes the decision for me.

My heart speaks before my lips can form the words.

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