His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 142

Sophia attached herself at my side the moment we walked in, slipping into full protective–aunt mode as if she’d been training for this her whole life.

Between her constant check–ins, over–the–top fussing, and Liam’s own watchful shadow, I honestly couldn’t tell who was worse.

The hovering was equal parts comical and sweet, like having two overprotective bodyguards who also insisted on monitoring my snack intake and bedtime.

We decided to share our joy with only the people who’d been there through every storm: Liam’s parents, Jay, my mom. We’d tell them over a private dinner before the rest of the world knew.

Sophia and I were leaning against the kitchen counter, talking through the dinner plan. It was all family, so there was no need for formality.

The moment Cassie walked in, we exchanged a quick look and, without missing a beat, switched the conversation to something else entirely.

“I’m starting the nursery,” she said, careful, like she was testing water. . “I could use your eye for décor, Emily, maybe you could come help me choose things.”

Sophia glanced up, one brow lifting. “Don’t you think that’s… a little forward?”

Cassie lifted a shoulder. “The earlier the better. I might not have the energy later.” Her me, soft with pity. “If Sophia ever gets pregnant, she’ll understand. I know this might be… outside your experience.”

gaze

slid to

I nearly laughed out loud. Across from me, Sophia caught my eye, and for a split second, it was like we were in on the same joke. Our smiles, small and private, said the rest.

Sophia’s gaze flicked to Cassie, a slow once–over that managed to look both polite and faintly pitying. “Great. We’ll all go. And, Cassie? Keep the nursery talk off the second floor.”

A heartbeat of silence. Cassie’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Sure,” she said lightly. “Whatever you prefer.”

12:5800

Chapter 142

Sophia cooed at everything like she’d just discovered a new species of cute.

“Oh, this is perfect. Sophia the Second’s set will be customized, just as it should be for a princess.”

289 Vouchers.

She said it with the conviction of someone announcing royal law, and I had to work hard not to snort loud enough to draw the wrong kind of attention.

Cassie watched us like we were speaking a language she didn’t understand. “What do you think of this theme?” she asked, holding up a set of cloud decals.

“It’s adorable,” I said, because it was.

Sophia leaned in to me. “This blanket has illegal levels of softness. If it were a person, I’d be writing love letters to it.”

That did it, I burst out laughing, clutching the edge of the blanket.

Cassie’s gaze darted between Sophia and me, our laughter clearly grating on her nerves. Then, like she’d just been hit with a wave of sudden frailty, she pressed a hand to her temple.

“I’m… suddenly dizzy,” she murmured, her voice soft but strained. “I should

go

home.”

The performance was so transparent, I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing again. There was nothing dizzy about the way her eyes kept flicking between us.

“Well,” Sophia said, mock–cheerful, “the pregnant one makes the rules. If Cassie’s ready to head home, we all head home.”

In the car, Cassie kept her gaze fixed on the passing blur outside, her jaw locked in silent defiance.

For the past few days, Liam’s protectiveness had taken a whole new turn, one I hadn’t signed up for. In his mind, sex was suddenly a dangerous sport that could injure the baby. I’d explained, sent him articles, even quoted medical experts at him.

He’d read them all, nodded like he agreed… and then refused me again last night.

The worst part was, my hormones were on a full–scale rebellion, and I woke up still restless. I stepped out of bed before he did, leaving him to his morning routine.

When I walked into the kitchen to make myself something, Sophia was already there, mug in hand. I passed her without a word.

12:58

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