18. Clover
"He's going to kill you, then me, then you again."
Banks just laughs, adjusting the collar of his button-down shirt in my bedroom mirror while I maneuver Mai Tai around on the floor so she catches the best light. "A little dramatic, don't you think, Freckles?"
"It's Kasen we're talking about. Remember that time he threatened to break some poor dude's legs for just asking me to prom?" I ignore the storm clouds rolling across Banks’s face at the memory. I forgot he was right there with my brother making those threats.
I smooth my dress down over my barely there twelve-week baby bump—it's just a small, firm curve that most people would probably just mistake for me eating one of those giant Chipotle burritos. "Now we're about to tell him that his best friend knocked up his little sister. So no, I really don't think I'm being dramatic at all."
Three freaking months. That's how long this tiny human has been growing inside me. Three months since that thunderstorm changed everything. A whole month since Banks found out and point-blank refused to go back to his own apartment, despite Kasen's increasingly confused questions about why he was still basically living on my couch. Not that Banks has slept on the couch even once since finding out about the baby.
Honestly, it’s a straight-up miracle we’ve managed to make it this long without Kasen somehow figuring out about the baby.
Banks comes up behind me, wrapping those strong firefighter arms of his around my waist. His hands settle right on my stomach, all protective and possessive in a way that still manages to make my knees go weak every time.
"Let him try," Banks murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear and sending shivers down my spine. "I'm not going anywhere, Freckles."
I roll my eyes at the nickname he refuses to drop, but secretly I love it. Not that I'd ever tell him that. His ego is already big enough.
"Your funeral," I mutter, leaning back against his chest. "Just so you know, I’m not visiting you in the hospital."
"Liar," he says, pressing a quick kiss to the side of my neck, right where it meets my shoulder. "You'd be the first one there, probably yelling at the nurses for not giving me enough pain meds."
The worst part is, he's one hundred percent right about that. When the hell did he start knowing me better than I even know myself?
Forty minutes later, we're walking through the front door of Timber, my brother's pride and joy. The microbrewery is packed for a Thursday night, the warm glow of Edison bulbs casting everything in a flattering light. The smell of hops and barley hits me like a truck, and I swallow hard against the immediate wave of nausea and the mouth full of saliva that comes along with it.
Banks's hand finds the small of my back and I lean back a little into the warmth of him. "You okay?"
"Fine," I lie, ignoring the way my stomach is launching a full-scale rebellion despite the peppermint I’ve been sucking on or the ginger tea I choked down before we came. "Let's get this over with."
Kasen’s eyes land on us as soon as we walk in, and his eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise as we approach the bar. I take a deep breath that doesn't help at all and plaster on my best everything’s totally normal and I’m not about to ruin your whole day smile.
"Can’t say I expected to see you two together today. Everything alright?" He gives Banks a questioning look before turning his attention to me, already moving in for one of his bone-crushing hugs that squeezes my stomach. There’s a very real possibility I’m about to barf on my brother’s shoes, but I somehow manage to swallow it back.
"Yeah, everything's fine," I manage to say, but my voice comes out a little squeaky.
My brother frowns at me, but then he and Banks do that ridiculous handshake-turned-bro-hug thing that makes me want to roll my eyes into the back of my head. Men.
Kasen leads us over to a booth in the back and sits down.
His eyes narrow as Banks and I slide into the same side of the booth across from him, his gaze darting suspiciously between us. His fingers drum against the wooden table, and his tattoos shift on his forearm with the movement. It’s a little hypnotizing to be honest. I’ve always thought they were cool, the full sleeves of colorful ink that peek out from beneath his rolled-up flannel, continuing up his neck in a riot of colors that clash with the black beanie he's perpetually wearing over his messy dark hair.
I’m not brave enough to get my own, but I sort of wish I was.
"Okay, what's going on?" he asks, startling me out of my runaway thoughts. "You call me sounding all serious about needing to talk, and then you show up with him?" He nods toward Banks. "Not that I'm complaining about seeing my two favorite people, but you two arriving together when you've been acting weird for weeks... Something's up."
I glance at Banks, and he must read the panic on my face because he grabs my hand and threads our fingers together. Now that the time has come to spill our secret, the words are just… gone. We’ve spent hours this past week planning exactly how to do this. But sitting here across from my overprotective brother, whose suspicion is only getting worse by the second.
"We have some news," Banks says, rescuing me from my sudden muteness. He squeezes my hand, tightening his grip and I squeeze him right back to let him know I appreciate him doing this with me. For me.
Whatever.
Kasen looks between Banks and me again. "The two of you have news,” he repeats, his voice flat. He leans back, crossing his arms like he’s bracing for something. “Okay..."
"Clover's pregnant," Banks says, and how is his voice so steady? I swallow down the bile creeping up the back of my throat "We're having a baby."
Yep.
He just said that.
Out loud.
Kasen's face goes through about fifteen different emotions in five seconds—shock, confusion, disbelief, and finally, something that looks a whole lot like murderous rage.
"You're what?" he finally manages, his voice dangerously quiet.
"Pregnant," I repeat as I finally find my voice. "Twelve weeks along."
Kasen's gaze swings to Banks, who hasn't flinched once. "You got my sister pregnant? After I asked you to look out for her? And then hid it from me for fucking weeks? "
Banks meets my brother's glare head-on. "Yes."
"This isn’t how we planned to tell you," I jump in, because I can read the look on my brother’s face and he’s about to jump over this table and strangle his best friend. "We’ve only known for a little while and needed time to process it ourselves. But we’re telling you now because we wanted you to hear it from us before anyone else."
"So you've been keeping this from me this whole time? While we've all been hanging out like nothing's changed?" Kasen's voice is tight with hurt beneath the anger.
"It's not what you think," I start, but Banks cuts me off.
"I'm in love with her."
Wait, what?
My head whips around so fast I get a little dizzy. Banks's eyes are locked on Kasen, his jaw set in that stubborn way of his. The man thinks I’m the stubborn one, but he gives me a run for my money.
“Excuse me?” my brother says, and oh man. His voice has this deadly quiet to it. That’s when you know he’s big time angry. Not when he’s yelling but when he gets like this.
"You heard me," Banks says like he didn’t just drop a nuclear bomb on me in the middle of my brother’s brewery. " I love your sister, Kase. Have for years. And I know you're pissed, but Clover’s it for me. Her and our baby. I'm not going anywhere, no matter how you feel about it."
My heart is trying to break out of my chest it’s beating so hard. Banks loves me? Since when? And why the hell is he telling my brother before telling me?
Kasen's expression is unreadable. Then, without warning, he stands up and points at Banks then toward the door. "Outside. Now."
"Kasen—" I start to protest.
"It's okay," Banks says, squeezing my hand before sliding out of the booth. "We'll be right back."
I watch in horrified fascination as my brother and the father of my child march out the front door of the brewery. Through Timber's windows, I watch them facing off on the sidewalk—Kasen gesturing wildly, face flushed with anger, while Banks stands like an immovable object, arms crossed over his chest, nodding occasionally.
"Why are men the worst?" I mutter to myself, digging around in my purse to find another mint. It doesn’t help and my eyes water with the effort not to throw up. "I’m a grown-ass woman who can have a baby with whoever I want, for fuck’s sake."
I’ll light a candle for whoever my brother decides to procreate with. He’s such a caveman, the poor girl’s going to need all the help she can get.
I’m sure I look like a crazy person talking to myself, so to feel less crazy, I pull my phone out and start scrolling through my socials.
When five minutes turn into ten, I start wondering whether I'll need to dip into my bar fund to bail both of them out of jail tonight. But just as I'm about to go out there and tear them both a new one for being alphahole idiots, they walk back through the door. Kasen still looks pissy, but it’s not as bad as it was when they left. Banks’s jaw looks a little swollen on one side but his eyes are soft when he slides into the booth beside me and grabs my hand.
"So," my brother says, sliding into the booth like he never left. If it wasn’t for his swollen knuckles and the tightness in his jaw, I’d think he was almost happy. "I'm going to be an uncle."
As much as his display a minute ago annoyed me, seeing him now, ready to accept my baby, and his role in its life, is everything. I didn’t dare hope in my wildest dreams this would happen today. And just like that, I’m fighting back tears. Again. Stupid pregnancy hormones. "Yeah, you are. And while I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, I'm not sorry for how I handled it. We were trying to figure things out first—without the testosterone-fueled showdown I knew would happen."
Kasen reaches across the table and takes my hand. "That’s fair. I'm still pissed you kept this from me, but I’ll get over it." Then he shoots a look at Banks that could turn a lesser man to stone. "And if he doesn't treat you right, or keeps anything else from me, I'll still break his face."
I yank my hand away. "Oh for fuck’s sake. I don't need you to threaten violence on my behalf. I'm perfectly capable of breaking his face myself if necessary."
"I'd expect nothing less," Banks replies, wrapping his arm around me and kissing the top of my head. "But it won't be necessary."
The look he gives me is so sure, so full of whatever emotion made him say he loves me out loud to my brother before saying it to me, that I momentarily forget I'm annoyed with him. Almost.
"You better have a ring ready," Kasen grumbles.
"Excuse me?" I snap back to reality with a vengeance. "Nobody said anything about marriage. Did you two work out my dowry while you were out there too? How many goats am I worth these days?"
"You're having his baby!"
"Welcome to the twenty-first century, Kasen. People have babies without getting married all the time. It's almost like women have autonomy over their own lives now."
"But—"
"Trust me, I've tried talking to her about it," Banks says, and I elbow him hard in the side. He grunts but grins at my brother. "She's stubborn."
"And you both have traumatic brain injuries if you think my reproductive choices automatically lead to a wedding," I say loud enough for them both to hear, but of course they act like I’m not even here.
Honestly? I’m feeling a little stabby, not gonna lie.
"She gets that from our Mom," Kasen sighs. But then his eyes light up. "Jesus. I'm going to be an uncle." His whole face transforms with the first genuine smile since we sat down. "That kid’s gonna have the most badass uncle. I'll teach him all sorts of shit and then give him back."
"She's going to be a girl," Banks says confidently. "And you’re not teaching her shit unless you run it by me first.”
I roll my eyes so hard I'm surprised they don't get stuck looking at my brain. "So glad you two have my child's entire future mapped out already."
"It's a he," Kasen argues, continuing to ignore me. "James’ make sons. It's genetic."
"Actually, the father determines the sex of the baby," I point out, "because sperm carry either an X or Y chromosome, while eggs only carry X chromosomes. So if anyone's going to make bold proclamations about our baby's gender, it should be me. Or Banks.”
They both stare at me.
"What? I've been reading."
Kasen shakes his head and signals one of his servers. "I need a beer for this conversation."
"Make it two," I add, then smile sweetly at their shocked expressions. "Relax, it's for you," I tell Banks. "You're going to need it when I explain exactly how I feel about you planning my future without me.”
Telling the rest of our inner circle goes significantly better than telling Kasen.
Navy meets us at Ember after her shift with a knowing smirk. “So you finally told big brother about the bun in the oven?” she asks, giving Banks an appraising look. “And you're still breathing. That’s unexpected.”
“He's tougher than he looks,” I reply, which makes Banks raise an eyebrow.
She pulls me into a tight hug. “I'm so glad you two are finally going public with this. Now I can officially start planning the baby shower!” She bounces on her toes. “I'm thinking a midnight garden theme with tiny fairy lights and fireflies. And don't worry, I'll make sure everything is put into our shared calendar with your planning system so you don't stress.”
She's already talking about godmother duties and food choices for the shower before I’ve even had a chance to sit down.
My boss’s reaction is more reserved but no less supportive. "I had a feeling," Theo says, looking between us with a smirk. "The way Banks has been hanging around the bar like your bodyguard every night made me suspect something was up."
Banks shrugs, completely unapologetic and owning his hovering. He guides me to the barstool he's insisting I sit on instead of standing and waits for me to sit before moving behind me so I can use his chest to lean back against.
Theo smirks at me and I bite back a laugh. Banks might’ve backed off a tiny bit, but he’s still over the top with everything related to me or the baby.
The fire station crew is the most entertaining reaction by far. They erupt into a combination of merciless teasing and overprotectiveness for a baby they haven't even met, and it makes me cry a little. Banks gets endless shit, but he loves every second of it.
"Priestly, settling down?" Captain Morgan's bushy eyebrows lift up so his forehead wrinkles. "Never thought I'd see the day."
"Pay up," Brenna says, holding out her hand to Martinez and Vetter who bitch and groan before they hand their cash over.
"You were betting on us?” I ask, equal parts horrified and amused.
"Babe, we've had a betting pool since Banks had a panic attack when he didn’t know where you were during that gas leak," Brenna explains with a knowing smirk. "He came back to the station going on and on about how you were basically superwoman after, and Martinez said he'd never seen anyone crush so hard over emergency management skills. Only question was how long it'd take you two to get your shit together and figure it out."
And through every minute of telling our friends and family, Banks is right there beside me, his arm thrown over my shoulders so he can pull me into him. He’s always like this now, touching me all the time. The man doesn’t know the meaning of keeping his hands to himself. He’s steadfast. His presence in my life is unwavering.
What isn't unwavering, however, is my traitor of a body, which seems determined to remind me daily that this pregnancy isn’t going to be the glowing, Instagram-worthy experience some women claim it is.