Page 35 of Reluctantly Ever After (The Oops Baby Club #2)

Someone's trying to destroy everything I've built, and my first thought is to protect Kasen. Not my company. Not my future. But him.

What the fuck is happening to me?

It's just after seven in the morning, and I'm standing in Kasen's kitchen—our kitchen?

—gulping down decaf like it might magically transform into the real thing if I drink enough of it.

My phone won't stop buzzing with texts from brewery owners panicking after word spread about the break-in at Timber last night.

"Evergreen just confirmed they're not renewing their contract.

That's the third brewery this week," I tell Kasen as he walks in, freshly showered, his hair still damp.

The sight of him makes something flip in my stomach that has no business flipping.

But Kasen in nothing but low-slung jeans with a few water droplets still running down all that ink and those muscles? I never stood a chance.

I blink a few times as my brain comes back online and when my eyes finally find their way to his face, he’s smirking. I, of course, ignore him.

"That motherfucker’s not wasting any time, is he?

" He comes up behind me and presses a kiss to my neck. His hands slide around to rest on my stomach. The little bubbles I've been feeling in there for weeks have started turning into something more as the baby gets bigger, and I don’t know who’s more excited for him to feel the baby for the first time, him or me. "You okay?"

Something about the way he touches me so casually sparks my need for him to life. It's not just a sexual reaction, though there's definitely that too. It's something else. Something that makes my chest tight in a way that should send me running for the hills.

Instead, I'm leaning into it. Into him. Because he’s comfort and safety and protection and home and…

For fuck's sake. When did I start wanting this? Wanting him to touch me like I belong to him? Like he belongs to me?

"No," I admit, leaning back against his chest. "I've spent four years building Cascade from nothing, and this asshole thinks he can just waltz in and tear it all down."

Kasen's arms tighten around me. "We're not going to let that happen."

We. Such a simple word, and yet it undoes me. When did we become a we beyond the biological fact of our son growing inside me?

"The emergency meeting with all the breweries is this afternoon." I turn in his arms, needing to see his face. "Three o'clock at Cascade. We need to present a united front."

His blue eyes hold mine. "We need to talk before that meeting."

"That sounds ominous." I step out of his embrace, my defenses immediately rising. When has the phrase we need to talk ever been a good thing? "Are you backing out? Because if you think I'm going to face Miller alone?—"

"Jesus, Pink. Of course not." He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way I refuse to find adorable right now. "It's the opposite, actually. I have an idea, but I wanted to run it by you first. In private."

"Okay..."

"Let me get coffee first." He moves around the kitchen, grabbing his mug from the cabinet. In just a few weeks, we've developed these little domestic patterns that shouldn't feel so natural, but somehow do. "You want more?" he asks, gesturing to my half-empty cup.

"I'm good."

He takes his time, and I know he's gathering his thoughts. Whatever this is, it's important enough that he's actually planning his words instead of bulldozing ahead like he usually does.

"Just spit it out, Kasen," I say finally, unable to take the suspense. "What's this big idea?"

He takes a deep breath. "I want to give Timber's distribution to Cascade."

I stare at him, sure I heard him wrong or I’m hallucinating. "You what?"

"I want Cascade to handle Timber's distribution. All of it." He meets my eyes, and he doesn’t blink. "Exclusive rights, industry-standard rates, the full lineup."

"But..." I shake my head, trying to process what he's saying. "Your whole business model is direct-to-bar. You've been fighting against distributors like me for years. You've called my business model 'the death of craft beer culture' to my face."

"I know." He has the grace to look slightly remorseful. Like, the tiniest amount. "I was wrong."

Kasen James admitting he was wrong? Maybe I'm still asleep and this is some bizarre pregnancy dream. I want to call him on it, but I swallow down the instinct.

See? I can grow.

"You want to work with me?" I clarify. "Professionally? After everything?"

"Not just work with you. Partner with you." He steps closer, his expression earnest in a way that makes anything left around my heart crumble. "Miller's trying to divide and conquer. The only way we beat him is by joining forces. Completely."

"This is a big deal, Kasen." I cross my arms over my chest, trying to maintain some distance even as my mind races with the possibilities. Timber under Cascade's umbrella would be a massive win, not just financially but in terms of industry clout. And I could get him into so many places he’s not in now. It would be huge for both of us and it’s a smart move.

"Timber is your baby. You built it from nothing. "

"I know." He closes the distance between us, his hands sliding up my arms. "But that's exactly why I'm doing it. Because I know what Cascade means to you, too."

"I don't understand." And I don't. This doesn't fit with the ruthlessly competitive businessman I've spent years battling.

"It's simple." His fingers trace my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I trust you. With my business. With our son." His eyes hold mine, filled with something that makes my breath catch. "With everything."

Oh.

Oh.

This isn't just a business decision. This is so, so much more.

"Is this because we're sleeping together?" I ask, needing to be sure. "Because if this is some misguided attempt to?—"

"It's because I love you."

The words hit me like a cement truck to the chest. Three words I never expected to hear, especially not from Kasen James. My heart's going so crazy I'm pretty sure he can see it trying to escape through my shirt.

Love? Seriously?

Love wasn't supposed to be part of this messy equation. Sex, yes. Convenience, absolutely. A temporary solution to my housing crisis and our accidental pregnancy. But love? That's the kind of complication I've spent my entire adult life avoiding.

"You don't—" I stop, swallow, try again. "You can't?—"

"I can, and I do." His voice is steady. Certain. "I'm in love with you, Wren. Have been for a while now."

"We've only been doing this for a little while," I protest weakly.

"And fighting like cats and dogs for years before that." His lips quirk up in that half-smile that does stupid things to my insides. "I think I've been falling for you since the first time you told me my IPA tasted like 'pretentious pine-scented bathroom cleaner'."

Despite everything, I laugh. We both ignore how watery it is. "It did."

"It absolutely did not." His hands frame my face. "But you were the only one brave enough to say it to my face."

I don't know what to say. My brain is short-circuiting, unable to process that Kasen James—the man I spent years convincing myself I hated—just said he loves me.

And that some part of me desperately wants to say it back.

"You don't have to say anything," he says, reading my expression so easily. "I just wanted you to know where I stand. This business decision comes from a place of trust and... yeah. The other thing."

"Love," I supply, the word feeling strange and wonderful on my tongue.

"That's the one." His thumbs brush my cheekbones as he wipes away a tear or two. "Think about the distribution offer. We can talk details later. But whatever you decide, I'm all in on us. On our family."

Family. Another word that should terrify me but somehow doesn't. Not when he says it.

"I need to think," I manage, even as my body instinctively leans toward his.

"I know." He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. "Take your time, Pink. I'm not going anywhere."

The thing is, I believe him.

Cascade's conference room has never felt so crowded.

Representatives from twelve local breweries fill the chairs around the massive table, their expressions ranging from worried to outright hostile.

The energy in the room crackles with tension, and I can feel everyone's eyes on me as I take my place at the head of the table.

Beside me, Kasen stands with his arms crossed, a solid presence that somehow manages to keep me calm despite the chaos swirling around us. The murmurs die down as I clear my throat.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," I begin, my voice steadier than I feel.

"I know rumors have been flying, so let's cut to the chase.

Pacific Northwest Brewing Corp, specifically Nolan Miller, is systematically targeting independent breweries in Portland with the aim of forcing sales on his terms."

I stop to meet every single set of eyes watching me. "We've lost three distribution contracts in the past week," I continue, "and last night, someone attempted to break into Timber Brewing. We have reason to believe Miller is behind it."

This sets off a fresh wave of murmurs. Kasen steps forward.

"The security footage shows Marcus Wells, former head brewer at Eastside, now employed by Pacific Northwest." His voice is calm, but carries an undercurrent of controlled anger. Now’s really not the time, but that tone’s doing things for me, and goosebumps break out across my skin. "This is straight up sabotage."

Tom Hayes from The Hop Yard sits forward. "We've had equipment failures three times this month. Things that shouldn't break suddenly malfunctioning. I thought it was just bad luck."

"It's not," Kasen says grimly. "It's purposeful."