Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Chance
N early twenty-four hours later, Rowan and I hadn’t had a private moment since I’d kissed her last night, and I was good with that. I wouldn’t know what to say other than whoops, I fucked up . Something told me that wouldn’t land right.
The fact was, at the time, it hadn’t felt like a fuckup. It’d felt…
Dammit. Stop thinking about it.
Today had been utter chaos at work, but that was to be expected when we had a large event at the brewery.
Tonight was Rusty Anchor’s Ode to Love and Beer event—a Valentine’s celebration that highlighted our two seasonal beers. Henry’s was catering it with heavy appetizers and finger foods, many of which would complement the chocolate stout and the cherry wheat. We’d hired Adrian Cormier to DJ later on, with the lower level open for dancing.
Our marketing had targeted not only couples but friend groups, and tickets had sold out. In addition, we’d invited six parties who’d inquired about using the brewery for their upcoming events. We hoped to convince them to book our venue by letting them experience it in action.
I’d brought my party clothes to work with me, knowing from experience I’d likely not have time to go home and change beforehand. No matter how much preparation we did in advance, shit always came up last minute. Tonight that was in the form of an incorrect QR code on the posters that advertised the brewery as a rental venue. Somewhere we’d gotten our QRs crossed, and they linked to the wrong page.
I’d happened to test one of the codes out a half hour before go time, just a routine check. That had given me just enough time to go back to my office, print out the correct codes, then affix them over the incorrect ones.
Guests were beginning to arrive as I’d rehung the posters in their inconspicuous spots. I’d rushed off to get myself ready. Now I was in the private restroom in Holden’s office, changing into my navy chinos, dark gray jacket, and a light gray sweater underneath.
When I emerged, Holden walked into his office. “Hey, there you are,” he said. “Looking sharp, my friend.”
“Thanks. Posters are fixed. Everything else okay?”
He went to his desk chair and grabbed the jacket he’d shed earlier, which told me prep time was officially over. “As far as I know.” He pulled on the jacket, glanced at the open door, and lowered his voice. “Hey, Chloe told me about you and Rowan.” His brows climbed up his forehead as if asking for verification. “I’ve been trying to find a private moment all day to bring it up.”
Rowan had told me she’d let Chloe in on our secret a few days ago, so I wasn’t surprised, just a little taken off guard by him bringing it up right now.
“Did she tell you all of it?” I asked as he reached my side, still adjusting his jacket.
“The baby? Or is there more?”
With a chuckle, I said, “That isn’t enough?”
“That’s a lot. And she’s living with you?”
“She couldn’t find a place.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that’s tough right now. Are you two…?”
“No. We’re”—I looked away—“roommates. Getting to know each other as friends.” Kissing her popped into my mind, and I shoved it down.
“Maybe more?” Holden asked. “She’s easy to like.”
I shook my head. “Not more. With Sam and now another one on the way, I’ve got more than I can handle, and so does she. We’re both good with keeping it platonic.”
He watched me a couple of seconds longer than necessary, as if he didn’t believe me.
“Really,” I said. “The stakes are high. Neither of us wants to risk getting further involved and having it not work out. Not when we have eighteen years of co-parenting ahead of us.”
He nodded once. “That’s understandable, I guess, if there’s no chemistry.”
Oh, there was fucking chemistry. Judging by last night, the chemistry was highly flammable. But that didn’t mean we had to give in to it. I’d managed to not give in to it every night except last night so far. Last night I’d made a mistake, but it wouldn’t happen again.
“She plans to move out once she’s back on her feet,” I assured him. “Shall we get the hell to our own party?”
“That’s a plan. I hope to find time to eat. The food smells incredible.”
We headed out of his office together, down the short hall, and entered the public room on the main level.
Dozens of guests milled around, some couples, some larger groups as we’d hoped, all of them dressed to the hilt, and most of them with a beer in their hand. The noise level was loud and festive.
“My sister-in-law looks like she’s about to pop,” Holden said.
I followed his gaze to Ava and Cash. Ava, who was only a handful of weeks out from her due date, wore a hot pink thigh-length dress that gathered above her very pregnant belly then draped over her baby bump. On her feet were matching hot-pink glittery sneakers. Cash hovered over her as if he was afraid she might go into labor in the next five minutes.
Holden headed for them, but I stayed back, scanning the room for any of our six special-guest parties who were in the market for a venue. I wasn’t going to hard-sell them, but I would give them a little special treatment.
I didn’t spot any of them, so I strode along the windowed side of the room that showed off the brewhouse, still searching, still coming up empty. I’d check again later.
When I turned, I stopped in my tracks at the vision before me.
Rowan had just come in the from the offices. She stood at the other end of the crowd, as I had, giving me the chance to soak up her beauty before she saw me.
She wore a short burgundy dress with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a sequined neckline that dipped low enough to give me and the world a sample of her cleavage. It was by no means risqué, was perfectly appropriate for a work event. But the images that flashed through my mind were anything but suitable for the office.
I forced my gaze away before she saw me, then headed to the stairs to check on the guests up there. I was going to need some time to cool my thoughts off, plus a whole lot of self-coaching, before I interacted with the knockout mother of my unborn child.
Rowan
Two hours into it, the Ode to Love and Beer party was, from my inexperienced perspective, turning out to be a sparkling success.
We’d sold out tickets. Beer was flowing. Merch was selling like crazy. Moods were flying high, and compliments on the seasonal flavors abounded. Everyone raved about the food as well.
Everything was coming up roses and romance for this company I was beginning to genuinely love.
In spite of the joy and success surrounding me, my agitation grew as the night went on.
Though Chance and I had both been at work since eight this morning, often in the same room, working on the same thing, he had yet to say anything personal to me.
That kiss last night had him running scared, and while a part of me was amused, that wasn’t going to fly. Not when we lived and worked together. He’d been the one to say we needed to communicate.
The time had come for me to force communication.
I excused myself from the upstairs table of Chloe’s friends, who were becoming my friends too—Presley, Anna, and Olivia—and went to the stairs. I’d seen Chance head down a few minutes ago.
The main floor was even more crowded than the upper level, with a huddle of people around the serving counter, another few gathered at the merch station, and the area we’d roped off as the dance floor overflowing.
Holden and Kemp stood near the floor-to-ceiling window to the brewhouse, filling their men-of-the-hour roles jovially as a continuous flow of guests mingled with them. I had no doubt everyone was singing their praises, as they deserved. I’d allowed myself one taste of Kemp’s Love Is the Pits, mainly to see what everyone was talking about. It was dangerously delicious.
I eventually spotted Chance talking with a group I realized might be his dad group. A couple of the guys were without dates, and several had brought their wives or fiancées. I’d met Knox, Holden’s brother, and his wife, Quincy. I was guessing the other couple was Max, the football coach, and Harper, who owned Earthly Charm on the square.
I kept Chance in my sights as I mingled my way closer, stopping to talk to guests, asking them their opinions of the seasonal brews, and making sure they didn’t want for anything. I was biding my time, waiting for the right moment.
That moment came when the first notes of “All of Me” played over the speakers.
I beelined toward my sexy prey, who looked sharp and irresistible tonight—if you weren’t irritated with his cowardice over last night.
I sidled up near him as the couples in his group headed off to the dance floor.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey, yourself.” He smiled, but I sensed an edge of uneasiness beneath the surface, as if he understood I wasn’t here to talk about work.
“Let’s go dance,” I said.
“Don’t you want me to introduce you to West and Luke?—”
“I want to dance.” I took his hand and tugged him away from his friends, who weren’t paying attention to us.
As he followed me toward the dance floor, he said in my ear, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I didn’t answer until we were in the middle of the dancing couples, my hands on his shoulders, his on my waist. “Sometimes coworkers dance at their company’s party. It’s fine. No one will think, oh, I bet she’s having his baby. ”
He zipped a gaze around us at that, then seemed to understand no one could hear me. It was too loud, and people were wrapped up in their own twosomes.
“Just two coworkers sharing a dance to celebrate,” I said. “That’s what it looks like.”
“Got it. You’re right.”
Before he could let his guard down, I said, “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I’ve been working with you all day long.”
I nodded. “But last night, you literally ran off before Sam could leave us alone.”
“It was late.”
“Chance, stop it. To quote a guy, we need to communicate. Not run scared.”
We swayed in silence for a bit, with me letting up so he could think.
“I owe you an apology,” he eventually said. “I went against our agreement.”
That wasn’t the angle I’d expected him to take. “I wasn’t upset about that.”
“I shouldn’t have done it.”
We swayed to the slow tempo, our bodies an appropriate coworker distance apart, which required effort to maintain because, in spite of being annoyed with him all day, I wanted to feel his body against mine. I waited, sensing he had more to say.
“Erin’s a tough subject,” he said. “Kissing you is much more pleasant.” His mouth curved into a boyish grin, dimple appearing.
I fought not to be affected by that smile that had the power to melt me. “So it was a diversion tactic?”
He tilted his head in thought. “ Tactic makes it sound cold and calculated. There was nothing cold about that kiss.”
I lost my battle to stay irritated, my own mouth flirting with a grin as I remembered the heat of that kiss. “No, there wasn’t.”
Our eyes met, and that pull between us was strong.
Another couple brushed against us from the side, popping us out of our connection, bringing us back to the here and now.
“Anyway,” Chance said, “Sam nearly walking in on us was a perfect reminder of why that can’t happen.”
“She was suspicious,” I acknowledged. “We need to tell her the truth.”
“I know. I’m working up to it. That’ll be…humbling.” He frowned, and I understood what he meant.
We hadn’t done anything wrong. We were two consenting adults. But I could see how a one-night stand might seem like a poor example for his teenage daughter.
“I can be by your side when you tell her if you want me to. Or you can tell her in private. Whatever you think will go over better.”
He nodded once. “I’m not sure yet. Either way, it’s not going to go over well.”
“No. It needs to be soon though. It’s getting hard to button my jeans.”
His gaze darted down toward my middle even though we stood too close for him to see anything. There was something so intimate about the secret we shared, the knowledge that my body was changing because of him. Whether we ever kissed again, he’d made it clear we were in this together, through the good, bad, and ugly.
If his daughter found out I was pregnant before we told her, the situation could quickly turn ugly.