Page 36 of Reluctantly Ever After (The Oops Baby Club #2)

More voices join in, sharing similar stories of mysterious equipment failures, delivery problems, suppliers suddenly backing out of contracts. A picture starts to emerge of a coordinated attack on Portland's craft brewing scene and I get angrier with each new revelation.

"So what do we do?" asks Sarah from Evergreen, looking directly at me. "Miller offered us five million. With all these 'accidents,' we're barely staying afloat and could really use that money."

I take a deep breath. "We stand together. Miller's strategy depends on picking us off one by one. If we present a united front, he loses his leverage."

"Easy for you to say," someone mutters from the back. "Your boyfriend's brewery hasn't been targeted like the rest of us."

Kasen tenses beside me, but I place a hand on his arm. I've got this.

"First of all," I say, my voice sharp enough that a couple people flinch, "Timber was literally broken into last night, so that's factually incorrect.

Second, our personal relationship has nothing to do with this discussion.

And third, if you have something to say, Bill, say it to my face instead of mumbling from the back like a coward. "

The room goes silent. Bill, a balding man in his fifties who's never bothered to hide his disdain for "women in the industry," flushes red.

"All I'm saying is—" he begins.

"What you're saying," Kasen cuts in, his voice a dangerous rumble and yep, this time I can’t fight off the shiver, "is that you'd rather dismiss Wren's expertise because we're together than listen to the solution that might save your brewery. That about right?"

Bill squirms uncomfortably. "I didn't mean?—"

"Yes, you did." Kasen steps forward, towering over the table.

"But here's what you're missing. Wren built Cascade into the most successful distribution company in Portland while facing twice the obstacles as any man in this room.

She knows this industry inside and out, and if anyone can find a way through this mess, it's her.

" His eyes sweep the room, challenging anyone to contradict him.

"So how about we shut the fuck up and listen to what she has to say? "

I should be annoyed that he's stepping in to defend me.

I should tell him I can fight my own battles.

Instead, I feel a rush of warmth spreading all the way down to my bones.

He's not talking over me or trying to save me.

He's standing beside me, acknowledging my expertise, treating me as an equal partner in this fight.

And honestly? It's hot as hell.

I clear my throat, refocusing. "Thank you, Kasen. Now, I have a proposal." I lay out the plan we've been discussing all morning—a coalition of Portland craft breweries, standing together against Miller's tactics. Shared resources, united marketing, mutual support.

"And to show our commitment," I continue, "Timber Brewing will be bringing its full distribution under Cascade's umbrella, effective immediately."

The announcement sends a shockwave through the room. Everyone knows about Kasen's staunch direct-to-bar philosophy. His willingness to abandon it speaks volumes.

And to hand it over to me? That’s an even bigger middle finger to Miller.

"You're really doing this?" Sarah asks, looking between us with curiosity. "Timber's joining Cascade?"

"We are," Kasen confirms. "Because this isn't just about business anymore. It's about protecting what we've all built. And Wren’s the best person to do that."

The discussion that follows is intense but productive. By the time we break two hours later, we have commitments from ten of the twelve breweries to join our coalition. Only Bill and another holdout are on the fence, and I'm not worried about them. The momentum is with us.

As the room empties, I feel a strange mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. We did it. We actually pulled this off.

"You were amazing," Kasen murmurs, wrapping me up in his arms. "The way you handled the room, laid out the strategy. I've never seen anything like it."

" We were amazing," I correct him, surprising myself with the admission. "Your little speech about my expertise didn't hurt either."

His lips quirk up. "Just speaking the truth."

"Well, it was..." I search for the right word. "Nice. To have someone in my corner like that."

"Always," he promises, his eyes serious despite his smile. "I've got your back, Pink. Always."

The sincerity in his voice makes something shift inside me—a wall crumbling, a door opening. I've spent so long being unflinchingly independent, fighting for respect in an industry dominated by men like Bill. I've never let myself need anyone, never let myself lean on anyone else's strength.

But maybe it's not weakness to let someone stand beside you. Maybe it's not dependence to accept support.

Maybe it's just love.

The realization hits me with startling clarity. This feeling that's been growing between us, this warmth that spreads through my chest whenever he looks at me or touches me or says something ridiculous and overprotective—it's love. I'm in love with Kasen James.

Holy shit.

"What's that look?" he asks, his head tilting as he stares down at me.

"Nothing." I'm not ready to say it yet. Not here, not now. "Just... processing everything."

"Why don’t you finish processing at home," he suggests. "You look tired."

Home. With him. With our son growing inside me. With the man I've somehow, against all logic and expectations, fallen in love with.

"Yeah," I agree, letting him guide me toward the door. "Let's go home."