Page 86 of Pastel Kisses

The call ends, and the silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken fear and frustration. I press a kiss to Avery’s temple, my voice gentle. “We’re going to talk to your dad, let him know what’s going on. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

She nods, swallowing hard. “I don’t want secrets. Not anymore.”

“You’ve got our word, baby,” Kam says, and there’s steel behind it. “We’re in this with you. Every step.”

I help Avery sit up carefully and wrap a towel around her shoulders. “Let’s get dressed. Then we’ll go tell Dan.”

She leans back just enough to meet my eyes. There’s fear there, yes—but also strength. And love. So much love.

Before we know it, the five of us are gathered in Dan’s suite, the door closed behind us, the air thick with the weight of the detective’s update. Avery sits tucked safely between Jaxton and me on the couch, her fingers laced tightly with mine while Kam stands by the window, arms crossed and eyes on the hallway like he’s expecting someone to burst through the door. Liam’s on the other side of her, rubbing slow circles along her spine, while Dan leans forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees, his expression caught somewhere between concern and rage.

“She didn’t just leave flowers,” Dan mutters, shaking his head. “She got that close again. That’s the part that makes my skin crawl.”

I squeeze Avery’s hand, hoping she can feel everything I’m trying to say without words. I’m here. You’re safe. No one’s ever going to touch you again.

“She’s playing a game,” Kam says finally, pushing off the wall and moving toward us. “She wants us rattled. She wantsAveryrattled.”

“Well, it’s not going to work,” Avery says, her voice quiet but firm. Her spine straightens, her chin lifts. “We’re not going to hide forever. I’m not going to let her steal another day.”

Dan nods, a flicker of pride crossing his features. “That’s my girl.”

To ease the tension—and give all of us something else to focus on—we order lunch. Within the hour, we’re gathered around the small round dining table near the window, plates of burgers, fries, fresh salad, and enough sweet tea to drown in spread across the table. Kam couldn’t help but add a couple containers of fruit, “for the baby,” he claimed, even though he ate half the pineapple himself.

Avery’s got her feet propped up on Liam’s lap, a plate balanced on her growing belly, while Jaxton cuts her burger in half before she even thinks to ask. She grins up at him, and he winks back like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Watching them—watchingher—feels like some kind of balm. She’s still healing, but there’s light again in her eyes. Hope.

Dan tells a story about Avery’s childhood, something about a birthday party and a rogue pony, and she groans as she hides her face in my shoulder. We all laugh, even her, and for a few minutes, the fear fades.

“We should do this more often,” Liam says around a bite of fries. “Just… sit and be.”

Kam clinks his glass of tea against Dan’s. “Agreed. She’s got a village now.”

Dan nods. “She always did. But now it’s bigger. Stronger.”

And as Avery leans back, her head resting against my shoulder, and her eyes flutter closed with a soft smile on her lips, I realize something important.

This isn’t just a moment.

This is a memory we’ll hold onto.

A reminder that even in the midst of fear, there’s still room for laughter, love, and healing—and we’re going to give her all of it.

Avery lets out a yawn so big it could swallow the room whole, her hand flying up too late to hide it. She tries to blink the sleepiness away, but it’s no use—those pretty eyes are already getting heavy. I smile to myself, watching her fight it, like she doesn’t want to miss a single second of being surrounded by her people.

But we notice. We always notice.

Jaxton clocks it before she even finishes exhaling, setting his fork down and wiping his hands on a napkin. He leans over and gently brushes a knuckle along her cheek. “All right, Kitten,” he murmurs. “You’re fading fast. Let’s get you back to the room so you can crash.”

Avery gives a soft little hum of protest, but she doesn’t argue. Her head lolls toward his shoulder, her fingers tightening around the edge of her plate like she’s not ready to leave the moment behind.

“You’ve earned it, sweetheart,” Dan says warmly, pushing back from the table and rising to meet her. “Growing my grandbaby takes a lot of energy.”

She smiles, though it’s sleep-drenched and soft. “Love you, Dad.”

Dan wraps her in a careful hug, and the way he kisses her temple—like she’s still his little girl—makes something tighten in my chest. She’s loved. Fiercely. And we’re going to keep it that way.

Jaxton helps her up, steadying her as she groans and holds the underside of her belly. He chuckles, rubbing slow circles on her back. “Come on, Mama. Let’s get you horizontal.”

“Don’t let them eat all the leftovers,” she mumbles sleepily, pointing vaguely toward the kitchen. That earns a round of laughter from the table.

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