Chapter Fourteen
Kamden
The kitchen is quiet, save for the low hum of the industrial refrigerator and the soft clink of my knife against the cutting board. Mornings are my sanctuary—the calm before the chaos of dinner service. I work with precision, slicing fresh herbs, prepping marinades, and setting up everything for tonight’s menu. My restaurant is still new, and every detail matters—every plate, every review, every impression.
But today, my focus wavers.
Avery.
I can’t stop wondering how she’s handling everything. Liam and Jaxton promised they’d explain it all—lay out the truth about our lives, the fame, the high-profile scrutiny, all of it. Lennox and I agreed to step back, to give them space to smooth things over. We promised not to bombard her with calls or texts—not until afternoon at least.
But as the hours crawl by, my patience wears thin.
With a sigh, I toss the knife onto the cutting board and scrub a hand over my face. How bad could it be? Is she upset enough to pull away from us? The not knowing is driving me insane. Lennox is handling the waiting better than I am, of course. He always does.
I pull out my phone, staring at the empty screen, debating whether to text Jaxton or Liam. Maybe just a quick check-in. Something subtle. My thumb hovers over the screen when it buzzes in my hand.
Avery’s name flashes across it.
My heart jumps.
“Avery.”
Relief rushes through me as I answer on the first ring. “Hey.”
Her beautiful face fills my screen, and just like that, my pulse steadies, my world resets.
“Hey, Kam.”
Her voice is warm, familiar, but there’s a tentative edge to it that puts me on alert. “I’m sorry for not getting back to you yesterday. Things got... intense.”
“I figured as much,”
I say gently. “No need to apologize. I get it. Lennox will too.”
She lets out a soft laugh, and the tension in my chest eases a little. “Thanks.”
“Always.”
I lean against the counter, forgetting my prep work, focused solely on her. “How are you holding up? After... everything?”
“I’m okay,”
she admits, though there’s a mix of exhaustion and honesty in her tone. “It was a lot to take in at first, I won’t lie. I was mad at all of you for keeping it from me. But after Liam and Jaxton explained everything—how hard it is to know who to trust, the pressure of always being under a microscope—I get it. I can’t imagine living with that kind of weight.”
I nod, hoping she can see the sincerity in my expression. “It was never about not trusting you. I hope you know that. We just didn’t want to overwhelm you... or scare you off.”
“I know that now,”
she says softly. “Still, I wish you’d trusted me enough to let me decide. But... I’m not going anywhere, Kam. You don’t need to worry about that.”
The weight on my shoulders lifts.
“I’m glad to hear that. Really glad.”
Her voice brightens with curiosity. “Are you at your new place? You never mentioned that! Give me a video tour. Pretty, please?”
I chuckle, glancing at the time. I’ve got at least an hour before my sous chef arrives, so why not?
“Alright, Sunshine. Hang on.”
I wipe my hands on a towel before holding my phone up to give her a better view. “This is where the magic happens. You’re looking at the heart of the place. Don’t mind the mess—it’s controlled chaos.”
I gesture at the neatly chopped herbs and prepped ingredients.
“Mess? Kammy, this is the cleanest kitchen I’ve ever seen,”
she teases, laughing.
My heart stutters at the nickname. Any resistance I might’ve had against her melts instantly. If she keeps calling me that in that sweet-as-sin voice of hers, I’d give her anything she wanted on a damn gold platter.
“Damn right it is,”
I reply, shifting the camera for a better view of the gleaming countertops and organized stations. “I run a tight ship. No clutter, no confusion. Every tool has a home, and every ingredient has its place.”
“I love it,”
she murmurs, voice soft but sincere. “It suits you. Everything in its place, just like you.”
A slow grin tugs at my lips. “Careful, Sunshine. Keep talking like that, and I’ll think you’re trying to flatter me.”
“Maybe I am,”
she teases. “Show me more.”
I step back, angling the camera. “This is the main prep area. Over there’s the grill station, the ovens, and the pastry corner where all the desserts come to life. And this—”
I swivel to a large, polished steel table—“is where I was working when you called.”
“What were you making?”
she asks, curiosity clear in her voice.
“Prepping a roasted tomato and garlic sauce for tonight’s special. Simple but flavorful. A crowd-pleaser.”
“Sounds delicious. You’re making me hungry, Kam.”
“Well, if you ever make it down here, I’ll whip up something special just for you,”
I say before I can stop myself. The words slip out naturally. “Of course, when we come to you, I can cook for you too. Don’t need a fancy kitchen to make a good meal for my girl.”
My nerves hum as the last words settle between us—my girl. My first real claim.
She doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t pull back. Instead, she laughs, light and teasing, but there’s something deeper beneath it. “That’s a dangerous promise, Chef. I might take you up on that.”
“Consider it a guarantee,”
I reply, shifting the camera as I move toward the dining area. “Alright, enough of the kitchen. Let me show you the rest of the place.”
I walk through the doorway into the main dining room and pan my phone to capture the space. Warm lighting bathes the tables, and the décor is modern yet inviting, with deep greens and earthy tones creating an atmosphere that's both intimate and open.
“This is beautiful, Kammy,”
Avery says, her voice laced with awe as she uses my newly found kryptonite again, melting my heart.
I chuckle. “Thank you.”
“It’s classy but comfortable,”
she explains. “Warm, welcoming, and a little bit fancy—definitely you.”
Her giggle flutters through my chest, making my heart swell with pride at her praise.
“You really think so?”
“I know so,”
she replies firmly. “You never mentioned its name before—what is it?”
“Yeah,”
I reply, stopping near the bar area to give her a good view of the custom shelving stocked with bottles. “It’s called Ember. I thought it fit—something about fire and warmth, like the feeling you get when you eat something made with love, you know?”
“That’s perfect,”
she says softly. “Ember. I love it.”
I smile and shift the camera back to me. “Glad you approve. When you’re here, I’m treating you to the full experience—dinner, wine, dessert—the works.”
“You’re spoiling me, Kamden,”
she laughs, but the warmth in her tone only fuels my bold assumptions.
“Always, Sunshine.”
Despite the distance, her voice carries the warmth of home—soft and familiar in a way that wraps around me and settles deep in my chest.
“I really don’t want to hang up,”
she admits, her reluctance clear. “But I need to call Lennox. I feel terrible for not getting back to him yesterday. I don’t want him to think I’ve been avoiding him.”
Her thoughtfulness always catches me off guard, making me smile in spite of myself. “Avery, you don’t need to worry about Lennox,”
I reassure her as I lean against the counter. “He understands. Trust me, he’s not the type to take something like this the wrong way.”
“I just… I miss him,”
she confesses softly, her voice laced with emotion. “I miss both of you. The distance is getting to me, especially after yesterday.”
The confession hits me square in the chest, and I grip the edge of the counter. “We miss you too, Sunshine,”
I say, lowering my voice to match hers. “More than you probably realize. But we’ll all talk tonight, okay? Lenn and I will call you together when we’re both free, and you can tell us everything on your mind.”
There’s a beat of silence as she chews her bottom lip, deep in thought. “You’re sure he won’t be upset?”
she whispers.
“Positive,”
I reply firmly. “Lennox gets it, and so do I. This is a lot to absorb, and we’re not going to hold it against you. So, stop worrying, alright?”
Her soft laugh floats through the line, easing the knot in my chest. “Alright. Thanks, Kam. You always know how to make me feel better.”
“Anytime,”
I agree, meaning it with every ounce of sincerity I have. “Try not to overdo it today, and we’ll talk later tonight.”
“Promise?”
she teases, a playful lilt in her voice.
“Promise,”
I reply, the word carrying more weight than I expected. Then I add, “And, Sunshine?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let Liam hog all your attention,”
I grin. “Save a little for us, too.”
Her laugh sounds like music—light and genuine. “I’ll do my best. Talk later, Chef.”
“Talk later,”
I echo, my smile matching hers.
The call ends, leaving the room unnaturally quiet. I pocket my phone, still basking in the lingering warmth of her voice. As I turn back to the kitchen to finish prepping, one thought refuses to leave my mind: Avery isn’t just someone I care about. She isn’t just someone my brothers care about. She is essential. And the idea of her becoming a permanent part of our lives doesn’t feel so crazy anymore—it feels inevitable.