August and I laughed a little and broke our kiss, and he rested his forehead on my shoulder for a second.

Okay, so maybe Camden took the prize for morning crankiness.

“One day, he’s gonna learn that we don’t allow yellin’ in this house,” August murmured.

“Today’s not that day,” I chuckled.

Camden stomped down the stairs and huffed and puffed to himself all the way to the kitchen.

Christ, he was adorable. Hair pointing in every direction, sleep in his eyes, Darth Vader pajama pants. He must’ve changed them.

“Mornin’, baby boy.” August withdrew from my arms and went to check the bacon in the oven. “What have we said about hollerin’ across the house?”

“That it’s okay for emergencies,” Camden grumbled. “I’m not goin’ to the festival. Why did you wake me?”

“Because I thought you’d want breakfast with us before we take off,” August replied. “We need to discuss your chores for the day too.”

“Darn it,” Camden complained. “I don’t like chores.”

No one did, but I was eager to find out more about their dynamic. So far, I was hooked on the family feel of it all.

Camden continued moaning in agony at his merciless fate of having chores while we finished up preparing breakfast. I was in charge of the toaster that August brought out from a cupboard, and Camden was told to bring out some blankets to the patio.

Maybe their Southern asses couldn’t handle anything below sixty-five, I didn’t know.

It was jeans and T-shirt weather for me.

Knowing we’d be filmed at some point today, I’d picked one of my Initiative tees in hopes that I’d be able to post a snippet or at least a link to footage on my Instagram. If nothing else, there should be a few photos I could upload.

A few minutes later, the three of us brought our food outside and sat down at the table closest to the doors. There were still some napkins and glasses left in the seating area by the grill from last night, and I was just glad I’d spent the evening with Camden instead. August had hosted a little pity party for himself earlier this morning about two participants who hadn’t been able to stop asking questions.

I sighed contentedly and stuck a piece of bacon into my mouth as I watched the King-Adair couple across from me. August was sweet, helping Camden cut his bacon and buttered toast into smaller pieces.

“I have a couple hoodies in the entryway if you want to borrow one, darlin’,” August told me.

I snorted softly and took a sip of my coffee. While he had gotten started on the eggs earlier, I’d brought in my instruments from my truck, and I’d seen a sweater and a baseball cap with Yankees logos in the entryway.