Page 39 of Reluctantly Ever After (The Oops Baby Club #2)

Lake practically trips over himself taking my nephew, clearly eager to escape whatever showdown is about to happen. Noble immediately starts fussing at the handoff, but he should consider himself lucky he doesn’t have to be a part of what’s about to go down.

I lead Margot to my office, trying not to feel like I'm walking to my execution. The space isn't much—desk, couple of chairs, walls covered in beer label designs and family photos. It's cluttered but clean, at least.

She takes the seat across from my desk, spine straight, hands folded in her lap.

"Mrs. Callan—" I start.

"Doctor," she corrects immediately. "Dr. Callan."

Right. Strike one.

"Dr. Callan," I try again. "I'm guessing Wren doesn't know you're here."

"She does not." Margot's eyes are a sharp gray, just like Wren's, but lacking the warmth I've come to expect in that color.

"I learned about her pregnancy through a former student who works at the Portland Tribune.

Apparently, your relationship has become something of a talking point in local business circles. "

Great. Exactly what Wren was afraid of.

"What exactly are your intentions with my daughter, Mr. James?" She cuts right to it, no preamble, no warming up. "Because from where I sit, this looks suspiciously like the kind of situation I've spent twenty-seven years warning Wren about."

I could bullshit her. Try to charm her with promises and reassurances. But something tells me Margot Callan has a finely tuned bullshit detector, and I'd only dig myself deeper.

So I go with honesty instead.

"I love her," I say simply. "And I'm going to be there for her and our son for as long as she'll let me, which I'm hoping is forever."

Margot's expression doesn't change. "Love is all well and good, but it doesn't pay bills or advance careers.

Wren has worked incredibly hard to build Cascade from nothing.

She's fought twice as hard as any man in your industry to be taken seriously.

And now her reputation is being undermined by whispers that she's sleeping her way to the top. "

The accusation stings, mostly because I know Wren worries about the same thing.

"Anyone who knows Wren knows she's a badass businesswoman who built Cascade without any handouts," I say, unable to keep the edge from my voice. "Her reputation isn't as fragile as you seem to think."

"Isn't it?" Margot's eyebrow arches in a gesture so familiar it momentarily throws me.

Wren does the exact same thing. "Women's reputations are always more fragile than men's, Mr. James.

Especially in male-dominated industries.

One misstep—one perceived weakness—and everything she's built could crumble. "

"This isn't a misstep," I say, my jaw tightening. "And Wren isn't weak."

"No, she isn't," Margot agrees, surprising me.

"Which is why I'm concerned about the timing of all this.

Pacific Northwest Brewing has been circling Portland's craft scene like a vulture for months.

Suddenly my daughter is pregnant, living with.

.. well, you, and making decisions that seem uncharacteristic, to say the least."

I lean forward, resting my forearms on the desk. "You think what, exactly? That I got her pregnant to what, slow her down? Distract her?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," she says coolly. "Or perhaps you're using the situation to your advantage somehow. Make her dependent on you personally since you can't compete with her professionally."

Something hot and angry burns in my chest, but I force it down. Getting defensive will only confirm her suspicions. And part of me understands where she's coming from. If someone threatened Clover's happiness, I'd be ten times worse.

"If I wanted Cascade, I would have made a play for it years ago," I tell her. "I respect what Wren's built too much to ever try to take it from her. And I respect her too much to ever try to control her."

"Respect is a start," Margot allows, "but hardly a foundation for the kind of life-altering decisions she's making."

"You're right." I hold her gaze steadily. "Which is why there's also trust. And partnership. And yes, love. Wren and I are figuring this out as we go, but we're figuring it out together."

"And the aspects of your businesses that compete? How do those factor into this partnership?"

This is where it gets tricky. The news about Timber joining Cascade's distribution network isn't public yet, though the breweries in our coalition know.

"Timber is bringing its distribution under Cascade's umbrella," I say, watching her reaction carefully. "Effective immediately."

That catches her off guard. Her perfectly composed expression slips for just a second, revealing genuine surprise.

"That's... a significant concession on your part," she says slowly. "You've been loudly opposed to distributors for years."

I want to smirk, knowing Wren’s talked to her mom about me apparently for years. But it’s not the time.

"I've been wrong about a lot of things," I admit. "Wren's business model. Wren herself. How much I needed someone to challenge me." I take a breath, pushing forward. "I'm not perfect, Dr. Callan. Far from it. But I'm trying to be the man Wren deserves and the father our son needs."

She studies me for a long moment, that hard glint in her eye softening the tiniest bit. "And the marriage? Wren mentioned Vegas. Was that planned?"

"No," I say with a short laugh. How the hell does she know about that? Wren must’ve filled her in and a little heads up might’ve been nice. "That was definitely not planned. But I don't regret it."

"Even though she still isn’t publicly acknowledging it?"

So Wren's told her more than I thought. Interesting.

"She needed time," I say simply. "I gave it to her."

Margot uncrosses and recrosses her legs, a gesture I recognize as buying time to think. Finally, she sighs.

"Mr. James?—"

"Kasen," I interrupt. "If you're going to be my mother-in-law, you might as well use my first name."

The corner of her mouth twitches in what might be the hint of a smile. "Kasen, then. My concern has always been Wren's happiness and future. I've seen too many bright young women sacrifice their potential for men who claimed to love them, only to be left picking up the pieces alone."

Yeah, like her from what Wren’s told me.

"I understand that," I say. "My father walked out on us after my mom died. Left me to raise my sister alone. Well, we kind of raised each other.” I huff out a laugh, but it dies fast. “I know what it's like to be abandoned when you need someone most." I meet her eyes.

"I would die before I did that to Wren or our son. "

Something shifts in her expression—not quite warmth, but maybe a fraction less frost.

"Well," she says after a moment. "You certainly seem convinced of your sincerity."

Before I can respond, my office door swings open. Wren stands there, belly leading the way, her expression cycling rapidly from surprise to confusion to anger when she spots her mother.

"Mom?" She looks between us, her hand going to her stomach. "What are you doing here?"