Page 98 of Pastel Kisses

“See?” she points out triumphantly, looking back at me.

I grin and lean in, brushing the tip of her nose with a kiss before lowering my voice. “Yeah, but you’re our queen. And I’m not above pulling rank.”

Before she can get another word in, I give her one playful little swat on the backside—gentle, teasing, and just enough to make her gasp and laugh—and guide her toward Lennox.

“Go with Lenn,” I say, smirking. “Team baby bath is calling. And you know she’s gonna splash water everywhere again.”

Avery rolls her eyes with a half-smile, but her cheeks are pink and her eyes are soft. “You all gang up on me too much,” she mumbles.

“Only because we love you,” Lennox teases, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss just behind her ear before smoothly scooping Lexxas from my arms. “Come on, Bee. Let’s get this little marshmallow cleaned up and into jammies before she decides she’s a professional escape artist again.”

As they disappear down the hallway, Lexxas’s babbling growing softer with the distance, I turn back to the kitchen, watching Kam and Jaxton fall into easy conversation while they work.

I roll up my sleeves, grab a towel, and join in, my chest full.

There’s something sacred about this routine—the way we care for each other without having to ask. Avery’s protected, Lexxas is loved, and this house? It’s more than walls and windows. It’s the life we almost lost… and the one we’ll never stop fighting to keep.

“Alright,” I say, rinsing a dish and handing it to Kam. “Let’s get this cleaned up before Lennox floods the bathroom trying to play mermaid dad again.”

Kam snorts. “Again? That man owns more bath toys than Lexxas does.”

We laugh, shoulders brushing as we work side by side, and I can already hear Avery’s voice down the hall—gentle, melodic, the lullaby of our forever.

Yeah. This is everything. And I wouldn’t trade a second of it.

Lennox

By the time Avery and I make it down the hall with Lexxas in our arms, she’s a sleepy puddle of giggles and wiggles. Her curls are a mess from all the snuggles and wrestling during dinner, and her little nose crinkles when she yawns wide enough to squeak. I tug Avery close as we walk into the nursery.

“We’re going with the penguin pajamas tonight,” I say, lifting the soft cotton set from the top drawer of the dresser. “She always sleeps longer in these.”

Avery grins, brushing her hand through Lex’s curls before tugging out her hair bow. “Only because she knows how cute she looks in them.”

We share a quiet laugh, careful not to wake her up too much. Usually, we let her splash and babble in the bath until the floor’s half soaked and someone ends up needing a wardrobe change. But tonight? She’s already halfway to dreamland, her limbs heavy and her eyes blinking slow.

“She’s wiped,” I murmur, adjusting her on my hip.

Avery leans over to turn on the faucet, testing the water with her fingers. “A quick rinse, then straight to bed.”

We tag-team it like we always do—gentle, practiced, and totally smitten. I hold our baby girl upright while Avery carefully washes the stickiness from her cheeks and the sweet potatoes from behind her ears. Her little hands barely grip my fingers before she’s resting her head against my chest with a sigh.

Once she’s warm and dry, Avery pulls the penguin jammies over her arms and zips them up while I rub circles over her back. Lexxas doesn’t even fuss, just hums something that sounds like a dream trying to finish itself.

Together, we walk her into the nursery. The soft nightlight casts a gentle glow across the room, painting everything in the kind of peace you don’t realize you need until it settles over you. Avery hums a lullaby under her breath as I lower Lex into the crib and adjust the blanket around her.

“Monitor’s on,” I say, flipping the screen to double-check the video feed. The camera blinks green, steady and clear.

Avery nods beside me, brushing a finger along Lexi’s cheek. “She’s so perfect.”

“We did good,” I whisper, sliding an arm around her shoulders. “Now let’s get you to bed before you fall asleep standing up.”

She laughs softly, leaning into me. “You just want to tuck me in.”

“Nope,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her temple as I guide her gently out of the room. A quiet chuckle escapes me—because we both know exactly how we plan to spend the rest of the night.

We walk down the hall, and I keep a hand resting at the small of her back, more to touch her than to guide her. She leans into it like she always does, and it makes something in my chest tighten—this familiar warmth that comes from knowing she’s safe, loved, and ours.

The moment Avery says she’s heading to the kitchen for a bottle of water, I don’t buy it for a second. She flashes me that innocent look—the one where her eyes sparkle just a little too brightly—and I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips.

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