Page 99 of Pastel Kisses

“Uh-huh,” I say, crossing my arms. “You sure this is about water and not a certain group of guys finishing up in the kitchen?”

She shrugs, way too casual to be convincing. “I’m thirsty.”

“Right,” I murmur, already stepping beside her and placing a hand at the small of her back. “Come on, sweetness. Let’s go.”

Sure enough, when we turn the corner into the kitchen, Kam’s rinsing off a pan, Jaxton’s loading the dishwasher, and Liam is wiping down the counter with a dish towel slung over his shoulder. The place smells like leftover dinner and dish soap, the quiet hum of a house finally winding down for the night.

“There she is,” Jaxton says with a soft smile. “How’s our little marshmallow?”

“Out like a light,” Avery answers as she grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, cracking the seal.

“She’s getting too used to being passed around like royalty,” Liam jokes, tossing the towel onto the counter and stepping forward to press a kiss to Avery’s cheek. “Pretty sure she expects lullabies and foot massages every night now.”

“Can’t blame her,” Kam adds, flicking water from his fingers before drying them. “She’s got four ridiculously good-looking dads and one badass mom.”

Avery rolls her eyes, but her smile says she’s soaking up every word. Jaxton leans in next, brushing a kiss to her temple and whispering something that makes her blush. I don’t catch it all, but it’s something about her being the real queen of the castle.

Kam’s last, stepping close and pressing a hand to her lower back as he dips his head to kiss the tip of her nose. “Bedtime, Sunshine. And don’t act like you don’t know what we’re all thinking.”

“Oh, I know exactly what you’re all thinking,” she teases, taking a sip of her water. “And it’s not happening tonight.”

Liam groans dramatically. “Is that a hard no or a negotiable one?”

“I vote we carry her back and see where the night takes us,” Jaxton says, already inching closer.

“Touch me and you’re all on diaper duty for a week,” she warns with a wink, stepping back with a playful glare. “Now walk me to bed like the gentlemen you pretend to be.”

We all laugh, falling into easy steps beside her, like a protective wall guiding her back to the bedroom. Kam flips off the kitchen light as we go, and the house settles again—quiet, safe, and full.

And as we walk her down the hallway, all of us brushing fingers along her spine or pressing lazy kisses to her shoulder, I realize something simple and true:

We’ll never get tired of this.

Of her.

Of us.

Kamden

By the time we make it back to the bedroom, Avery’s already glowing. That soft, content hum she does when she’s being doted on echoes in my ears like a song made just for me. Between the kisses, the hand-holding, and the way we’ve all been brushing up against her on the walk back—she’s more than ready for more than just sleep.

She stands near the edge of the bed, her eyes warm and curious, her body relaxed but alert—like she knows I’m up to something.

I step in close behind her, wrapping my arms gently around her waist. My palms find those familiar curves I’ve missed touching all day. She leans into me, sighing, and I lower my lips to her ear, whispering, “You thinking what I’m thinking, Sunshine?”

She hums, turning her head just slightly, lips brushing my jaw. “That depends,” she teases, voice soft and low.

I trail my fingers over her stomach, the place where our daughter once grew—and maybe, just maybe, where another one could be. “You ready to let me put another baby in you?”

She gasps softly, her head tilting back to rest on my shoulder. My hands splay across her middle, and the memory of her round with our baby makes something primal stir deep in my chest.

“I liked the way you looked pregnant,” I murmur. “Carrying our baby. Strong. Glowing. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” My lips skim her jaw as my fingers gently slide under the hem of her sleep shirt. “Twins run in the family, you know. I wouldn’t mind doubling up.”

She laughs, breathless, the sparkle in her eyes giving her away. “That’s funny,” she says, cocking her head with a teasing smirk. “Lennox said almost the exact same thing right before our little pre-dinner warm-up.”

My pulse kicks up as I slowly lift the fabric from her skin, slipping it over her head and tossing it to the side. Her skin is warm beneath my hands, soft and inviting, and when she turns in my arms and looks up at me—cheeks flushed, eyes shining—I know I’d give her anything.

“Let me take care of you,” I say, brushing her hair behind her ear.

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