Page 41 of Reluctantly Ever After (The Oops Baby Club #2)

There's a twenty-four-week pregnant woman with swollen ankles and back pain who really needs to stop pretending she's invincible.

Unfortunately, that woman is me.

I stare at my computer screen until the numbers blur, rubbing my temple with one hand while the other rests on my belly.

It's nearly nine, and I should've left the office hours ago, but these quarterly projections won't finish themselves.

The baby chooses this moment to deliver a sharp kick to my ribs, making me wince.

"Yeah, I know," I mutter to him. "Your dad's going to kill me when he finds out I'm still here."

My phone buzzes. I don't need to look to know it's Kasen. The man's developed a sixth sense for when I'm pushing myself too hard.

Kasen: You're still at work, aren't you?

Kasen: Pink. It's almost 9.

Kasen: At least text me back so I know you're alive.

I pick up my phone, already knowing this conversation won't end well.

Me: Just finishing up. Be home soon.

Kasen: Define 'soon.' Because to me, soon means now.

Me: Soon means when I'm done. You're not my keeper.

Even as I type it, the words feel wrong. When did arguing with Kasen start feeling exhausting instead of energizing? When did coming home to him become the part of my day I look forward to most?

My door opens without a knock, and Kieran strides in, holding two cups of coffee. His designer suit is still immaculate despite the late hour, his tie perfectly knotted. The man doesn't believe in rumpled.

"One decaf with enough cream to drown a small mammal," he announces, setting a cup on my desk. "And stop giving me that look. By now you know the rules. Caffeine’s off limits.”

"Fine.” I sigh. “Is it bad that’s the thing I’m looking forward to most when this little beast pops out of me?” I rub my stomach while I take a sip.

Kieran eyes me. “Not beer or sex or, I don’t know, not having a parasite leeching off of you?”

I roll my eyes. “I mean, all of those things, too.”

“And why are you still here?”

“The Henderson contract needs to be finalized by tomorrow morning, and I still need to review the?—"

"No," Kieran interrupts, dropping into the chair across from me. "You've been here since seven this morning. Go home. The contracts will still be here tomorrow."

I open my mouth to argue, then close it. The truth is, I've been staying late more often lately, but not for the reasons Kieran thinks.

Working has always been my safe space, my way of maintaining control. But now, going home means facing how much I've let Kasen become integral to my life, and that terrifies me almost as much as I need it.

Yeah, I’m still trying to come to terms with a lifetime of issues and it’s not always easy.

"It's not about the work," I admit finally.

Kieran watches me like he already knows. "Then what's it about?"

I trace the rim of my coffee cup, organizing my thoughts. "Remember when Kasen and I first started this whole thing? How I kept insisting it was nothing? Just until I found a place, and then just until we figured out the baby thing?"

"I remember you making very detailed lists of reasons why you two were completely incompatible," Kieran says as he sips his non-decaf coffee that I definitely don’t glare at him for. "Something about him being an 'infuriating, stubborn brewery tyrant with terrible taste in beanies.'"

"I may have been slightly dramatic," I concede. "But the point is, I had rules. Boundaries. I knew exactly what this was and what it wasn't. And now..."

"Now?"

"Now I look forward to coming home to whatever amazing thing he's cooked.

I get excited when I hear his truck in the driveway.

I wake up reaching for him when he's not there.

" The admission feels like stripping naked in public.

"He's become essential. Something I can’t live without.

And as much as I love him, it still scares the shit out of me. "

Kieran leans back in his chair, studying me. "You know what I think?"

"That I've lost my mind?"

"I think you've finally stopped fighting something that's been obvious to everyone else for months." He brushes a piece of lint off the sleeve of his jacket. "Including, probably, yourself."

I shake my head, frustrated. "It's not that simple. I've spent my entire adult life being independent. Making my own decisions, relying on no one. My mom raised me to never need a man for anything."

"There's a difference between needing someone and choosing someone," Kieran points out. "You didn't need Kasen to save you from Miller or fix your housing situation. You chose to let him in. That's not weakness, Wren. That's trust."

“When did you become so wise?"

"When I started watching my boss fall in love with her mortal enemy," he grins. "It's been quite the show."

Before I can respond, my phone rings. Not a text this time—an actual call. Kasen's name flashes on the screen.

"You better answer that," Kieran says, standing. "Before he shows up here with your dinner and that famous scowl."

I accept the call as Kieran heads for the door.

"Before you start," I begin, "I know I'm still at work, and I know you wanted me to be home by seven, and I know you're probably already planning all the ways you’re going to punish me because you think I'm pushing myself too hard?—"

"Are you okay?" Kasen interrupts. His voice is tight, like he’s worried. It’s not angry like I expected.

"I... yes? Why?"

"Because your last text was over half an hour ago, and you always respond faster than that when you're okay. Are you having contractions? Is he moving? Do I need to call Reed?"

The concern in his voice makes my heart hurt a little. "I'm fine. Really. Just lost in spreadsheets."

"That's what you said last week when you almost passed out during a call."

I frown at my computer screen. "How do you know about that?"

"Kieran texted me. At least he fills me in on what’s going on with you."

"That little snitch," I mutter even as my gut twists with guilt because I do hide things from him so he doesn’t overreact. Actually, knowing that Kieran and Kasen have formed some kind of alliance to take care of me feels... not terrible.

Huh.

"Come home, Pink," Kasen says, his voice softening. "I made lasagna."

"Did you actually follow a recipe this time?"

"I did, though it might be a little crispy on the edges because I got distracted by an idea in my workshop."

"Of course you did," I say, already gathering my things. "Is it edible?"

"Absolutely. Get your ass home before I eat all the good corner pieces."

Despite everything, I laugh. "You're ridiculous."

"And you love me anyway," he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "See you in thirty?"

"Twenty," I promise, already saving my spreadsheet. "And Kasen?"

"Yeah?"

"Save me the crispiest edge piece. Those are my favorite."

“I’m eating it if you’re a minute late.”

After hanging up, I gather my stuff, trying to ignore how eager I am to get home to him.

To sit together at the table while he watches me eat with those light blue eyes, making sure I'm getting enough protein.

To hear him tell me about his day, about Lake's latest dating disaster or the new experimental batch they're brewing.

I'm almost to the door when it swings open again. This time, it's not Kieran.

"Working late again?" My mother stands in the threshold, not a hair out of place even though it’s late. She’s smiling at me, despite her words. I know how much she values hard work. "Some things never change."

Damn, he’s definitely going to eat my lasagna now.

"Mom." I set my bag down, already bracing for the lecture. "What are you doing here?"

"I had a faculty meeting that ran late. Thought I'd stop by." She surveys my office, her gaze lingering on the ultrasound photos I've taped to my monitor. "Though I'm surprised to find you still here. I assumed you'd be rushing home to prepare dinner for your husband."

The way she says 'husband' makes it clear what she thinks about the situation. I straighten my shoulders. "I don't make his dinner. We cook together. Or more accurately, I sit and critique while he makes the food."

"Hmm." She takes the seat Kieran just vacated. "And how is domestic life treating you? Living under a man's roof, depending on him?"

"It's not his roof, it's our house," I snap before I can stop myself. God, how did I buy into all her bullshit before? "And I don't depend on anyone. We have a partnership."

In so many ways.

My mother's eyebrows arch—the same gesture I use when I'm skeptical. It's unsettling to see my mannerisms reflected back at me.

"A partnership," she repeats. "Is that what you're calling it now?"

"What would you call it?" I challenge, crossing my arms. "Because I'm getting tired of defending my relationship to everyone, including you. You’re supposed to be on my side."

"I'm not attacking your relationship, Wren. And I’m always on your side. But I'm concerned about how quickly you've thrown away everything I taught you about independence."

"I haven't thrown away anything," I say, frustration building. "I'm still running Cascade. I'm still making my own decisions. I'm still the same person I was before?—"

"Are you?" She leans against the wall, folding her arms across her chest. "Because the daughter I raised wouldn't move in with a man after knowing him for mere months. Wouldn't let herself become emotionally dependent on someone who could leave at any moment."

Her words strike a nerve because they touch on my deepest fears. But then I think about Kasen's face when he looks at me, the way he holds my hand during ultrasounds, how he regularly goes out at all hours for my cravings without a single complaint.

"You're right," I say slowly. "I'm not the same person. I'm pregnant. I'm married. I'm letting someone take care of me for the first time in my life, and you know what?" I stand, gathering my things again. "It doesn't make me weak. It makes me brave."

My mother blinks, clearly not expecting that response.

"I spent years building walls because of what you taught me," I continue, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"Proving I didn't need anyone, fighting for respect in this industry.

And yes, maybe I've let those walls down faster than either of us expected.

But Kasen earned that trust, Mom. Every day, in a hundred small ways. "

"And when he disappoints you?" she asks quietly. "When the novelty wears off, and he realizes he's tied to a woman with a screaming infant and stretch marks?"

The vulnerability in her voice stops me. For the first time, I hear the old wounds beneath her words. Her own disappointments, her own fears.

"Then I'll deal with it," I say, softer now. "But I can't live my life waiting for people to leave. And I can't base my choices on your past experiences with men who weren't worth your time."

She's quiet for a long moment. "I just want you to be happy, sweetheart. And safe."

"I am." I really, really am. "You’ll see at dinner Sunday. You’ll get to meet him the right way, not in his office where you're trying to intimidate him. Let him show you who he really is."

My mother sighs, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "Okay. But if he serves beer with dinner, I'm putting my foot down."

I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in weeks. "Deal."

My mother hugs me and leaves while I say goodbye to Kieran and finally leave. Yeah, I’m definitely not getting the crispiest square. To be honest, I’m surprised Kasen isn’t blowing up my phone with how late I am.

I'm almost to the parking garage when a sharp pain doubles me over. Shit shit shit. This is different from the mild Braxton Hicks I've been having this last week. It’s stronger, more focused in my lower abdomen. I lean against the elevator wall, breathing through it.

When it passes, I check my phone again. And there it is. Three missed calls from Kasen. Before I can call him back, another wave of pain hits, harder this time, and my heart starts to really race.

I dial his number with shaking hands. He answers on the first ring.

"Baby or not baby?" No hello, no preamble, just straight to identifying why I’m even later than I said I’d be.

"I don't know," I manage, gritting my teeth while I try to catch my breath. "Something's... wrong, I think. It,” I gasp, “hurts.”