Page 83 of Pastel Kisses

Lennox leans over to kiss my temple, completely unbothered. “We’re brothers. Boundaries are optional.”

I laugh, the sound bubbling out before I can stop it, and sink deeper into Jaxton’s lap like I belong there—because I do. His arms wrap around me without hesitation, strong and sure, like he’s anchoring me to something solid in a world that’s still rebuilding itself. I melt into his warmth, resting my head against his shoulder as he presses a kiss into my hair, breathing me in like I’m his favorite scent. The steady thump of his heart against my back is a quiet reminder—I’m safe.

Kam slides the final two dishes onto the table with a theatrical flourish, like he’s presenting a five-star meal instead of pancakes and fruit. “For my favorite girl and her tiny sidekick,” he says, voice full of warmth and pride, “who outrank every breakfast in existence… except maybe the ones I’m personally serving.” He smirks, clearly impressed with himself, that signature Kamden cockiness shining through. “Eat up, Sunshine.”

And I do—because between the love, the laughter, and the perfectly crisped bacon, this moment tastes like everything I never knew I needed. It’s not just the food, or even the comfort of being surrounded by the guys I love most—it’s the quiet way they orbit around me, like I’m the center of their universe.

A deep, familiar chuckle rumbles from Kamden as he glides across the kitchen. “Here you go, baby.” He slides a fresh plate in front of me, artfully arranged with a little bit of everything—fruit, eggs, pancakes, even a mini mountain of bacon.

I can’t help the sound that escapes me. “Mm…” It’s less a word and more a moment of worship. “You know,” I murmur between bites, pointing to the plate the twins are sharing, “you could’ve just used the one I already had.”

Kam arches a brow as if I’ve just suggested something completely scandalous. “They can eat off the one their grubby fingers touched. You, Sunshine, get the clean one.”

The corner of my mouth lifts, but my brain doesn’t let the moment pass as easily. Kam’s always sweet—protective, thoughtful—but this? This is something else. The way he’s hovering just a little more than usual. The way Jaxton keeps glancing over like he’s trying to read my mind. Liam’s hand is still resting on my thigh, absent-mindedly rubbing circles into my skin like he’s afraid I might float away.

Even Lennox, who usually has some snark locked and loaded, is just sitting quietly beside me, ready with a napkin and a smirk.

My fork slows halfway to my mouth as I chew on more than just breakfast.

They’re coddling me.

Not in a suffocating way, but it’s obvious. This is the kind of energy they give when something’s weighing on them. When they’re either hiding something… or bracing for something.

I glance between them, watching how Kam won’t quite meet my eyes now, how Liam is overly invested in making sure my juice glass stays full, how Jaxton shifts underneath me in his chair like the floor might fall out from under him. They’re doing that thing they do when they’re trying to protect me from something—which, normally, I love. But my instincts are buzzing, and not just from the baby’s kicks.

I don’t say anything just yet. I press a kiss to Liam’s cheek, offer a warm smile to Kam, and let them pamper me.

But inside? The wheels are turning.

Because they’re definitely hiding something. And while the protective sweetness is nice... I’ve never been left in the dark for long. If my time with Sarah taught me anything, it’s how to read body language like a second language—how to decipher the truth behind a glance, a twitch, a too-smooth smile. I learned to survive by watching, by listening, by piecing together the story no one wanted to tell. And right now, every instinct I have is buzzing like a live wire.

Something’s off.

Whether it’s something they plan to tell me after breakfast or a truth they’re trying to spare me from entirely, I’m done being the one left in the dark. I’ve survived too much—endured too much—to let anyone protect me with silence. I’m not fragile. I’m not breakable.

I’m a fighter.

And whatever they know, I deserve to know it too.

I finish chewing my last bite, then set my fork down slowly. “Okay,” I say, my voice firm. “Spill it.”

They freeze like deer caught in headlights.

“Kitten—” Jaxton starts, but I cut him off with a sharp glare over my shoulder.

“No. Don’t ‘Kitten’ me. You’re keeping something from me. Again.”

I look at each of them in turn—Liam, Kamden, Lennox, Jaxton—letting them see the seriousness in my eyes. “I’ve been through too much to be kept in the dark. What don’t I know?”

There’s a pause. Then Liam and Lennox both reach out instinctively, rubbing gentle circles on my arms like they’re trying to calm the storm before it builds. The warmth of their touch grounds me a little, but not enough to quiet the racing thoughts already rising.

Jaxton shifts closer, his expression soft but edged with concern, and gently turns me sideways so he can see my face more clearly. “We’re not trying to hide anything from you, Kitten. We’ve been in contact with the detectives.” He hesitates. “There’s still no progress. No leads. It’s like she vanished.”

My heart skips, and not in a good way. The air suddenly feels thinner.

“We just didn’t want to burden you with worry when there was nothing new to tell,” he adds gently, reaching out to cup my cheek. “We wanted to give you space to heal, to rest. To focus on the baby.”

The wordbabylands like a weight in my chest. My breathing quickens, the room narrowing around the edges. It happens so fast, I barely register it—tightness in my throat, my heart pounding. Panic creeps in without permission, tightening its grip.

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