11. Emily

Caeleb gives me a smile that can melt the coldest block of butter. Before he speaks, though, the only thing Im thinking is if he knows. He must, given that Im wearing nothing but Silass shirt.

I clear my throat. Caeleb, I really?—

He cuts me off by extending a cup of coffee, freshly brewed. What you really need is coffee. And dont launch into any awkward conversations, Em. I know what happened last night, and Im fine with it.

I take the cup from his hands, holding his gaze. I want him to know that I want him to be a part of this too, but Im afraid that could come off as incredibly selfish. Its not normal for a woman to ask three men to date her … is it?

Caeleb seems to know just what Im thinking, which is a blessing. The boys and I already spoke about this. Were fine with the arrangement, only if you are too, of course.

He pierces me with cerulean eyes, deep, sparkling with humor, and so, so easy. Is it really this simple? I nod, feeling the heat of a blush rise to my cheeks. I do, I say. Its like nothing Ive known before, and I want to see where it goes.

Caeleb taps the counter. Thats settled, then. Now, what can I make for you?

I blink. Youre cooking breakfast?

He winks back at me. Youre about to learn a lot of things about me, Ms. Martin.

Well, at this moment, he looks more delicious than anything he can whip up. His presence is a physical caress against my senses. Those cerulean eyes of his are like pools of liquid desire, deep and beckoning, reminding of that evening, by the tree.

The way he looks at me with a smoldering intensity doesnt help. A smile, slow and knowing, spreads across his face. The warmth that emanates from him wraps around me like a velvet cloak, luxurious and enveloping. He turns his back to me and begins whipping up breakfast.

I somehow manage to tear my eyes away long enough to take in his culinary creation.

Sizzling strips of bacon release their tantalizing aroma, the scent of smoky richness swirling with the buttery promise of something delectable frying in a nearby pan. Its a symphony of breakfast perfection, and my growling stomach applauds his efforts.

I move closer, letting my eyes roam over Caeleb again. Droplets of water glisten on his sculpted shoulders, remnants of a quick shower. His messy, just-out-of-bed hair only adds to his rugged charm. Hes oblivious to my gaze, a focused energy radiating from him as he moves effortlessly around the kitchen space.

The muscles in his back flex and shift as he reaches for a plate, a subtle ripple of movement that draws my attention to the dip of his spine and the way his worn jeans hang low on his hips. My mouth goes dry. Its clear that this man isnt just handsome—every inch of him exudes a vibrant masculinity that sets my pulse thrumming.

He turns, a smile playing on his lips. You look appropriately hungry, he rumbles, his voice still rough with sleep. The sight of that smile, coupled with the way his eyes travel over me in open appreciation, sends a delicious shiver down my spine.

I am, I somehow manage to reply, acutely aware that I am only wearing Silass shirt.

He gestures towards the feast in progress. Then the only reasonable thing to do is eat.

I chuckle, unable to argue the logic. If Caeleb puts half as much dedication into the culinary arts as he does into … well, everything else, this breakfast is bound to be unforgettable.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulls my gaze away from Caelebs unfairly perfect biceps. Silas and Finn enter the kitchen, a double dose of tousled hair and sleepy smiles. And … holy hotness, theyre also shirtless. A deep blush floods my cheeks as the realization hits me—Ive stumbled into some kind of insanely attractive breakfast club.

Silas, sleek and polished even with morning stubble, pours himself a glass of orange juice. Well now, this is a pleasant way to start the day, he says, his voice smooth and vibrant.

Finn, all laid-back charm, chuckles and snags a piece of sizzling bacon. Caelebs breakfast is practically legendary around here. Consider yourself lucky.

Caeleb sets down a plate in front of me, a masterpiece of fluffy scrambled eggs, golden hash browns crisped to perfection, and those tantalizing strips of bacon. The aroma is heavenly, a swirl of salty, sweet, and savory that makes my stomach rumble once more, louder than before.

Dig in, Caeleb says, a grin tugging at his lips as he watches me.

I do, and its like a flavor explosion in my mouth. The eggs are light and creamy, the hash browns have a perfect hint of spice, and the bacon practically melts on my tongue. Moans of delight escape me between bites.

This is incredible, I manage to say.

Yeah, Caeleb, Finn teases, You should open a restaurant.

Caeleb snorts. Very funny.

As we eat, conversation flows effortlessly. Silas leads the charge with questions about my modeling career. Whats it like? he asks, to be the center of attention all the time?

My blush fades and is replaced by the warmth I feel when Im talking about my career. There are highs and lows, I tell him. Although, nothing gives me the rush of walking a ramp, knowing that Im about to make a small piece of history.

I pause and butter a piece of toast before continuing. If you ask me, history isnt just about the momentous occasions of the world. There are also the little things, the work done by all of us, as one connected whole. What were doing right now, enjoying this breakfast, thats part of it.

The men watch me take a bite of the toast. Its perfect crunch gives way to a cloud-like interior, and I cant help the sigh of pure contentment that escapes me. Honestly, I begin, swirling a finger through the leftover butter, the clothes, the travel, those are perks. But Im in this for a bigger reason. I want people to understand that healthy isnt one standard size, that what worked for you at twenty wont work at forty … My voice trails off, a familiar tightness in my chest.

And even then, so long as you get your sunshine, eat well enough, and find joy, thats enough, right? My question hangs heavy in the air.

Finn nods, a slow, thoughtful movement. Preach, he says, his voice low. But we forget that, dont we? Food as fuel, not some instrument of self-torture.

His words hit a little too close to home. I grab an apple from the counter, the cool weight in my palm grounding. An image flickers in my mind—me, in my early modeling days, measuring out portions of fruit like they were dangerous substances. With a sharp twist of the knife, I slice the apple, pretending the tension in my shoulders doesnt exist.

The thing is, I say, my voice tight, its easy to sell beautiful young women the dream of better or just a little more. But theres never enough more, not when the entire world profits off your desperate belief that youre not quite there yet.

The silence stretches. I hadnt meant to spill all that, but theres a strange ease in baring a sliver of that ugliness in front of these men. And then Finn speaks, his voice startlingly gentle, cutting through my spiraling thoughts.

Hey, he murmurs, leaning forward, elbows on the table. Eyes up here, Em. Talk to us.

I meet his gaze, the warmth in his eyes disarming. Theres no pity, no judgment, just an unspoken invitation to share the burden. And so, I do.

Ive been pushing the scrambled eggs around my plate, which is a sin given how good they are. Its just … I begin, my brows knitting. Its not an easy thing to do, not when youre constantly afraid of scrutiny.

Delve deeper, Emily, he says, his eyes holding mine. Were here to listen.

I smile slowly. Its a stupid, but very true cliché that beauty comes at a price. That sacrifice is the backstage currency. I catch a flicker of concern in Silass otherwise cool gaze as I push on.

Were going back to an age where diets read like torture manuals, I continue. Pills and powders promise disappearing inches overnight. Its … I struggle for the right word.

Unfair, Caeleb finishes for me.

I sigh. Can we talk about something else?

Caeleb nods immediately. Yes. I dont see why you need to worry about the industry right now, when youre literally in the perfect setting for a risqué Playboy shoot.

A surprised bark of laughter later, I look around at the men surrounding me. Caelebs right. Here I am, wearing Silass shirt and barely any makeup, discussing the perils of starvation diets with three gorgeous, shirtless men.

Silass grin is wicked. Now theres a photoshoot Id back.

Hush, I manage, even as a fluttery warmth spreads through me.

Finn chuckles, breaking the spell. But Emily, you make a powerful point. We can get so swept up in the seriousness, we forget just how ridiculous the whole industry can be.

His words ground me. The laughter fades, replaced by a fierce determination. Thats where we disrupt, I say, my voice stronger now. Modeling isnt about conforming. It can be about defiance. Showing that beauty is health, is strength, is damn well eating this amazing food. I gesture at the empty plates, secretly thrilled that my voice no longer trembles.

Hear, hear, says Silas, spraying crumbs in the process. The look of disgust on Caelebs face makes me laugh, and just like that, the mood changes. He turns his attention to me.

So, he says around a bite, Emily, when do we get to taste your culinary skills?

My eyebrows shoot up. Oh, you have no idea what youre asking for, I laugh, already envisioning the chaotic and likely hilarious baking session that would ensue.

And just like that, were off, the conversation turning to disastrous kitchen experiments, dream foodie destinations, and the age-old debate of pineapple on pizza (Finn is firmly pro, Im staunchly against, and thankfully, Caeleb and Silas are the voices of reason).

The morning stretches on, filled with laughter and the kind of easy companionship that makes Emberton feel a little less like a vacation and a little more like coming home. The rest of the conversation flows much like before, but theres a lightness to it now. The tension has transformed, a playful energy replacing the raw intensity. And Im okay with that.

It feels good to laugh, to see these complex men in a new, sillier light. Because really, who can take life too seriously over a plate of epic, shirtless-chef-made deliciousness?

I learn about Caelebs ascent into opening a chain of posh restaurants in New York and a little eatery in Emberton. Finn talks about his life as an architect, and Silas says as little as possible about his job as an investment banker.

There must be something you love about it? I probe, tearing at a piece of bacon with my teeth.

Hmm, the money helps, he says with a grimace. But when Ive made enough, Im going to retire and focus on Harveys Vineyard.

A hush falls between all of us. The men exchange a glance and then look at me. Im sorry, Silas says, his tone apologetic. I dont mean to steer the conversation toward a topic thats obviously…

His words trail off. I know what he wants to say, but honestly, I dont want to hear it. The pain of the loss is still too fresh, maybe more so because it shouldnt hurt, not when Ive never had a father in the real sense of the term. Theyve had more love from him than Flora or I ever did.

Im almost jealous of that. Almost. And if I went down that spiral, itd be a never-ending free fall.

There are better ways to spend our time.

I finish the last piece of bacon on my plate, stand up, and turn to walk to the counter, plate in hand, hips swaying slightly.

Theres a shift in the rooms current. I lean over the sink, completely aware that my shirt has risen up, revealing my butt to the men in the room.

I didnt think Id be in the mood for games this morning.

Clearly, I was wrong.