Page 52 of Falling for the Billionaire Best Man

“What the hell does that mean?” he asked, his tone incredulous. “How wild do these kids get?”

One of the parent volunteers overheard him. “Oh, last year wasn’t even that bad compared to years prior. We only had one kid who needed an ambulance.”

Kaisen looked horrified. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Relax,” I said, patting his arm. “It’s not that bad. The kindergarteners are just a little intense.”

“A little intense?” he repeated, his voice rising. “Dorie, I was already on the fence about having kids, but this might be the final nail in the coffin.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t let them smell fear.”

Before he could respond, one of the organizers pointed at him. “You! Tall guy! On the field.”

Kaisen looked at me, panicked. “What did I just agree to?”

I shrugged, trying to hide my amusement. “Just go out there and try not to get trampled. If you go down, no one can save you.”

He muttered something under his breath but headed out to the field, looking like a man walking to his doom. I set up the cupcakes on the table, arranging them neatly, and then turned to watch the entertainment unfold.

A horde of kids between five and seven appeared out of nowhere. They were all jumping up and down, talking and squealing. The teachers were doing their best to hold them back. They reminded me of cats. Hundreds of cats. There was no wrangling them.

“Are we ready!” one of the teachers called out.

Kaisen looked anything but ready. I imagined he was calculating the distance between the field and his car and how quickly he could make it there without stepping on any feral children.

The teacher blew the whistle, and the kids surged forward like a tidal wave. Kaisen froze, his eyes wide, before he was swallowed by the tide of giggling egg-hunters. I couldn’t help but laugh as I watched him try to navigate the frenzy, dodging tiny bodies flailing in every direction. A little girl with pigtails nearly took him out at the knees, and he barely managed to hop over her, his arms flailing for balance.

“Watch out for the one in pink!” I called over to him, grinning. “She’s got a mean elbow!”

He shot me a look that was equal parts exasperation and desperation before turning back to the field. To his credit, he tried. He really did. But it was clear he was out of his depth. At one point, he bent down to help a boy who’d tripped over his own feet only to get mobbed by five other kids who accused him of having eggs in his pockets. They used him as some kind of human jungle gym while they rifled through his pockets.

I could hear his muffled, “Excuse me!” over the cacophony of laughter and shouting.

After he’d sent them toward an untouched hoard of eggs by the swing set, he noticed a little kindergarten-aged girl crying because she’d dropped her basket. Without hesitation, he scooped her up, picked up her eggs, and ran with her to collect more, almost bowling over other children in pursuit of his mission. The little girl had stopped crying and was cheering him on.

Annie came over, her eyes following Kaisen as he navigated the insanity. “He’ll be a great dad one day,” she said, her tone teasing.

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped at the thought. “He just made a comment about not wanting kids,” I said.

Annie raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Sure. But look at him. He’s a natural. He may not want a hundred kids all the same age, but that man is a daddy. He’s making my ovaries sing. My husband is going to get very lucky tonight.”

I didn’t respond. My eyes were glued to Kaisen. He lifted up the little girl so she could reach an egg balanced on a low tree branch. Why did I care what he wanted or didn’t want? It wasn’t like it mattered. But the image of him with that little girl, his patience and kindness on full display, was hard to shake.

“You’re terrible,” I said.

“Oh no, I’m a woman with a biological clock ticking,” she replied.

Annie walked away with a knowing smirk, leaving me to my thoughts. I tried to focus on the cupcakes, rearranging them for the third time, but my gaze kept drifting back to Kaisen. He was now crouched down, helping a boy untangle his shoelaces while fending off another kid who was trying to climb onto his back. It was endearing, how patient he was with them. A strange warmth spread through my chest.

When the whistle blew again, signaling the end of the egg hunt, the kids rushed back to the starting area, clutching their baskets and comparing their loot. Kaisen emerged from the field looking like he’d just survived a war zone. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair was a mess, and there were grass stains on his knees.

“You lived,” I said as he approached, handing him a bottle of water.

He took it gratefully, gulping down half of it before replying. “Barely. I think I’ve got a few new bruises. And possibly a black eye in the making.” He gestured to his cheek where a small boy had accidentally headbutted him during the chaos.

“But you didn’t die,” I said.

There were a few kids crying.

“What’s with them?” Kaisen asked.