His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 39

I leaned casually against the archway. “Maybe women aren’t complicated. Maybe men just don’t listen enough.”

He winced. “Touché.”

“Hey, you asked.”

He laughed again. This time it reached his

eyes.

“Fair.”

We stood there, both of us a little more relaxed.

“She seemed important to you,” I said softly.

“She is,” he replied. “But I think I’m holding on to the version of her I met years ago. Not the one she’s becoming.”

I nodded slowly. “That happens more than people admit.”

He looked at me then, something honest and grateful in his expression. “You’re good at this. Listening.”

“Occupational hazard. People spill their guts when

you feed them.”

“Well… thanks,” he said. “For not pretending you didn’t hear anything. Or bolting.”

“No problem,” I smiled. “But if anyone asks, I was absolutely here for my purse.”

He grinned wider. “Deal.”

We parted at the stairwell. My purse was right where I left it, tucked beneath the brunch table, hiding in plain sight like some metaphor I wasn’t ready to unpack.

As I made my way back toward my room, Noah’s words played over in my mind.

Love changes. Or maybe people do. Either way, nothing about relationships is ever simple. I should know better by now.

I reached my room, shut the door quietly behind me, and leaned back against it, exhaling

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Chapter 39

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hard.

Finally, alone.

Or so I thought.

A knock came barely five seconds later.

I cracked the door open an inch.

Liam.

He stood there like he had all the time in the world, sleeves rolled up, one hand in his pocket. That maddening mix of salt air and cologne clung to him like a dare.

“Can I come in?” he asked, tone deceptively casual.

I stepped aside without saying a word.

ed in slowly, his gaze flicking across the room before landing on me.

on’t listen to Kelvin,” he said quietly.

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? And why should I listen to you?”

“You know why.”

I crossed my arms. “Maybe enlighten me.”

He took a step closer. Just one. But it was enough.

“Because he’s not the one who makes your heart race like this,” Liam said, his voice low and unflinching. “He’s not the one your eyes keep searching for in a room. He’s not the one your mouth parts for… like it’s waiting for something only I can give.”

My breath stalled. Everything inside me went still.

He leaned in. Closer now.

“I’d bet anything your panties are soaked right now.

I shook my head, Weak. Reflex more than conviction.

His head tilted, lips brushing dangerously close to mine.

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“Want me to confirm that?”

His hand brushed against my hip, fingers sliding just under the hem of my dress. Just enough to make me forget how to breathe.

But before he could go any further…..

“Emily!” Sophia’s voice rang out like a fire alarm from down the hallway. “You are not skipping family cocktails! Move your ass!”

We both froze.

He pulled back slowly, running a hand through his hair with a dry laugh.

“Well,” he said under his breath. “Guess it’s your lucky day.‘

I smirked. “You look heartbroken.”

”

He gave me a look that should’ve come with a warning label. “This conversation isn’t over.”

And then he was gone.

Calm. Controlled. Like he hadn’t just shattered me with a few words and one almost–touch.

I stared at the door long after it closed.

Sophia really had the worst timing.

I didn’t know whether to thank her or strangle her.

Ugh.

The estate looked like something out of a luxury magazine that evening. The back patio had been transformed. Fairy lights twisted around palm trunks, gold–rimmed champagne flutes glinting under soft lanterns, and the gentle hum of jazz from a live trio tucked near the fountain. Ocean breeze, scented candles, and too many beautiful people in one place. It was almost annoying how rich the air felt.

I arrived late with Sophia. She’d made me change twice before letting me out the door. She mentioned something about “vacation fabulous, not wedding guest desperate.” I didn’t even argue. I needed the distraction.

The cousins were already gathering when we got there. Jay held court in the center of a circular lounge setup, sprawled across a curved couch like it was built just for him. Kelvin,

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stunning in a dark short–sleeve button–up that showed off his arms, was laughing with Leo and Owen near the bar. Leo looked like he walked off the cover of Vogue, and Owen had the unmistakable presence of someone who lived in deadlines and boardrooms.

I spotted Liam instantly. He was seated on the low couch near Jay, one arm slung casually across the backrest. Next to him was an open space. As soon as he saw me, he tapped the seat beside him without saying a word.

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