Chapter Eighteen
Avery
Liam’s had me out in the yard all morning, which I wouldn’t necessarily mind if it weren’t for the feeling that they were up to something. Both he and Jaxton had been buzzing around since sunrise, their behavior too calculated to be casual. Jaxton also volunteered to run into town solo to grab extra clothes for both of them, leaving Liam to pull me outside to work. Normally, I’d welcome the excuse to get my hands dirty, but this felt different—like they were keeping me occupied on purpose.
By the time the afternoon rolled around, I was a sweaty, dirt-covered mess. My hair stuck to my forehead, and my muscles ached from digging. Liam was no better, his shirt soaked through and smudges of dirt streaking his arms and face as he worked beside me to dig out more of the creek for the koi pond. Despite the progress, my mind wasn’t on the project anymore.
I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead and glanced toward the house, wondering what was keeping Jax. He’d been gone for hours. My stomach churned as unwelcome images flash in my head—fans spotting him, swarming him, smothering him, their hands reaching out like a wave he couldn’t escape. A shiver ran down my spine, sharp and cold despite the afternoon heat.
“Bee?”
Liam’s voice pulls me back to the present. I looked over to find him leaning on the top of his shovel, his sharp eyes fixed on me. “What’s the matter?”
I hesitate, biting my lip, but the words spill out anyway. “Jax has been gone a while. Do you think he’s okay? I keep picturing him… I don’t know, being overrun by a mob of fans.”
Liam sets the shovel aside and strides toward me with purpose, his expression softening as he reaches me. “Come here, baby,”
he says gently, pulling me into his arms. His solid frame is grounding, the steady beat of his heart calming mine as I rest my head against his chest.
“He’s fine,”
Liam murmurs, his voice soothing as he rubs slow circles over my back. “I promise. We’ve been doing this a long time, and we’ve learned the tricks of the trade. Jax knows how to handle himself. He’ll be back before you know it.”
A sniffle escapes before I can muffle it against his shirt. I feel silly for worrying, but the way Liam is holding me, murmuring reassurances, makes me feel safe, and not judged.
“Come on,”
he says softly, tipping my chin up so I can meet his gaze. His green eyes shine with love and patience. “Let’s go get cleaned up. I’ll help you in the shower.”
The suggestion makes me smile despite myself, and I nod. “Okay.”
Liam leads me inside, his hand warm and steady on the small of my back. The cool air from the house is a welcome relief, and I sigh as we head toward the bathroom. He turns on the water, adjusting the temperature while I peel off my dirt-streaked clothes, leaving them in a heap by the door.
“Let me,”
he says, stepping into the shower first and holding his hand out for me. I slip mine in his, letting him guide me under the spray. The warm water cascades over me, washing away the sweat and grime, but it’s Liam’s touch that sooths me the most.
He grabs the shampoo, working it into a lather before gently massaging it into my hair. His fingers are firm yet tender, and I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. “You’re too good to me,”
I murmur, my voice barely audible over the water.
He chuckles, his hands moving through my hair with practiced ease. “You deserve nothing less, Bee.”
When he rinses out the shampoo, his hands move to my shoulders, working the tension from my muscles. “You’ve been working hard,”
he said, his tone tinged with pride. “Your yard is going to be incredible when it’s done. You’re amazing.”
I opened my eyes to find him smiling at me, his gaze filled with affection. “Thank you. And thank you for your help,”
I say, reaching up to cup his cheek.
“Good thing you’ve got me to help clean you up in the shower afterwards.”
he teases, leaning down to kiss me softly.
We stay like that for a while, the shower washing away more than just the dirt. It felt like a reset—a moment of intimacy that reminded me why I love these men so much. As Liam helps me rinse off, his hands never stray far, their touch is a constant source of comfort.
By the time we step out and wrap ourselves in towels, my earlier worries about Jax had eased. Liam had a way of doing that, of making me feel like everything would be okay, no matter what.
As I dry my hair with a towel, Liam leans against the counter, his eyes on me. “Feeling better?”
“Much,”
I say honestly, offering him a small smile.
“Good,”
he reaches out to tug me closer. “Because Jax is going to be back soon, and when he gets here, I have a feeling you’re going to forget all about worrying.”
His cryptic words narrow my eyes. “What does that mean?”
He smirks, his expression far too innocent to be genuine. “You’ll see.”
I huff, but the warmth in his eyes softens my mock annoyance. Whatever they’re up to, I know one thing for sure—I can trust them. Even when they’re sneaky.
My muscles ached in that satisfying way that comes after a hard workout. After a long shower, I’m set on keeping the rest of the day lazy and comfortable. Dressed in an oversized off-the-shoulder sweater and a pair of soft leggings, I padded into the kitchen, already thinking about lunch.
Liam’s at the counter, focused on something when I shuffle in. His hair is darker from the shower and slightly mussed, and he’s exuding that casual, effortless confidence about him that flutters my stomach. I lean against the doorframe for a moment, watching him, before my own hunger cuts through my thoughts.
“I’m starving,”
I say, drawing his attention. “Do you think Jax will be back soon? Maybe we could make lunch together?”
Liam glances at his watch, his brow furrowing slightly. “It’s later in the afternoon than I thought. We definitely need to get you fed.”
He walks over, pressing a quick kiss to the side of my head before turning back to the fridge. “What’re you in the mood for, Bee?”
he asks, his voice warm as he starts pulling out ingredients.
I hesitate, a faint queasiness stirring in my stomach. “There’re steaks on the bottom shelf. We could toss them on the grill. I can throw together a salad to go with it.”
He nods, retrieving the steaks and setting them on the counter in front of me. The sight of them, raw and bloody, hits me harder than I expected. My stomach churns violently, and before I can stop it, my lower lip trembles as I clamp a hand over my mouth.
Liam’s eyes sharpen with concern, and in an instant, he has the trash can in front of me just as I lose the battle. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, embarrassment flooding me as I straighten, wiping at my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Jesus, Bee. Are you okay?”
he asks, handing me a napkin while his other hand rests gently on my back.
I nod weakly, though I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. “Sorry,” I mumble.
“Don’t apologize, baby.”
His voice is soft but firm, the concern in his eyes unwavering. He hands me a glass of ice water and another napkin. “Do you feel better now?”
After a couple of sips, I nod again. “Yeah, thank you. I think I overdid it this morning in the yard. We skipped breakfast too. Once I get something in me, I’ll feel better.”
Liam’s lips press into a thin line as he takes the glass from me, his gaze assessing. “I’m making you a half a PB to let them know I’m not as out of it as it seems. But my body is heavy, while my mind drifts somewhere between sleep and awareness. A low, incoherent grumble escapes my lips, the best acknowledgment I can muster.
Their soft chuckles follow, warm and familiar, but something about the sound causes pause. That wasn’t just them. Their banter carries the energy of more than two voices, an echo of something I’m unable to place. My heart flutters, half-formed thoughts tumbling through my hazy mind.
Am I dreaming?
In my dreams, I often hear all my guys together, their voices mingling in that easy rhythm that only they share. Kamden’s deep, steady tone, Lennox’s calm confidence, Jaxton’s effortless charm, and Liam’s fiery warmth. Their voices are my sanctuary, each word wrapping around me like a promise that I belong in every corner of their world.
But this felt different—closer, more tangible. As if my dream world and reality are colliding, teasing me with a glimpse of something I long for but haven’t yet reached.
I shift slightly, my head nestling deeper into the pillows as I try to shift through my lethargic thoughts. If only I could shake off the haze of sleep, I’d finally know the truth. But my body refuses, weighed down by exhaustion and the comforting pull of sleep.
There it is—that faint echo, the unmistakable hint of more voices blending together, slipping in and out of focus like a teasing melody. My heart tightens with a surge of hope and longing, the possibility flickering in my mind: maybe, just maybe, this isn’t a dream.
Soon, I promise myself. Soon, they’ll all be here. No more longing, no more dreaming—just us, together, exactly as we’re meant to be.
But the ache in my chest whispers the truth. Not soon enough.