His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 36

I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me until it was too late.

“You’re up early.”

I jumped, my heart doing an Olympic–level somersault in my chest. I turned, and there he

was.

Kelvin.

Still shirtless.

He stood near the entrance, tall and barefoot, dark curls damp from a shower, a towel draped casually around his neck like he’d just strolled out of a magazine shoot. There was a silver chain resting on his collarbone, a faint scar under his rib, and a knowing smirk on his lips.

His eyes traveled slowly over me.

I was wearing an oversized T–shirt I’d borrowed from Sophia’s suitcase and a pair of sleep shorts I hadn’t realized were so thin until right that moment.

“I needed caffeine,” I said, turning back to the counter like it would shield me from the heat rising in my face.

He stepped closer, voice like velvet. “Mind if I join you?”

“It’s your family’s house. I’d be rude to say no.”

He chuckled, deep, smooth, and just a little too amused. “Technically, it’s all of ours. But this place has always been Liam’s favorite. Which is probably why he brought you here first.”

I glanced at him. “It wasn’t like that.”

He raised a brow, intrigued. “No? You mean you’re not his new… hobby?”

The way he said it, casual, sharp, and lightly mocking, made something in my chest twist.

I straightened. “Not that it’s your business, but I actually work for him.”

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“Of course you do,” he said, circling toward the barstool like a lion getting comfortable in the shade. “I just wonder how many employees fly private and sleep in ocean–view suites with their boss.”

I didn’t answer. Mostly because I didn’t like where that truth landed.

He stepped even closer, his presence pressing in. “He does this, you know. Liam. Pulls people in. Makes them feel seen. Wanted. Needed. And then…”

“You sound like you speak from experience.”

His jaw twitched. A flash of something darker crossed his face before he forced another easy smile.

“Let’s just say we’ve crossed wires before.”

I tilted my head. “What happened between

you two?”

о

He stared at me for a moment too long. Then he smiled again, but the warmth was gone.

“Ancient history.”

Before I could push further, I heard footsteps. Heavy. Measured.

Liam.

He walked into the kitchen like he owned the air in it, fully dressed in a white linen shirt, sleeves rolled to the forearms, navy slacks tailored to perfection. The scent trailed after him, expensive and maddening.

His gaze flicked to Kelvin first. Then to me.

Then back to Kelvin.

fresh cologne

“Didn’t realize we were hosting a breakfast club,” Liam said, voice smooth but cool.

Kelvin grinned. “Just catching up. Emily makes great coffee.”

“I know,” Liam said, voice flat. “She’s not here to make it for you.”

The air between them thickened like cream in heat.

I cleared my throat and stepped back from the counter. “I was just heading out.”

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Liam caught my wrist gently. “You haven’t eaten.”

“I’m fine.”

His grip tightened slightly, just enough to make me pause. “Stay.”

I glanced between them. Two men who shared a last name, a past, and a simmering tension I was now standing directly between. One had just cornered me with questions he had no right to ask. The other had touched me in ways that still echoed across my skin.

I stayed.

Kelvin leaned against the counter, arms folded across his chest. “Still as territorial as ever, cousin?”

“Only when it matters,” Liam replied, calm but sharp.

“Good to know.”

A beat passed, long enough to make it awkward. Long enough to make me regret not grabbing my coffee and locking myself in the pantry.

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