Chapter 48
STERLING
Spring
The wooden floors of the Napa house gleamed under the early morning sunlight. The wide glass windows looked out at the gold and green of the valley below. I’d always loved this hour, when the world was quiet, predictable, and organized, but these days, I rarely had it to myself.
Claire seemed to like this time of day too, and she was already awake, bright-eyed and determined, kicking her blanket loose the moment I picked her up from her crib. I murmured to her quietly in the hopes that Laney would keep sleeping.
“You’re relentless, little one.” She responded by gnawing on my shoulder, content as could be. I chuckled quietly, cradling her as I carried her out of the room. “Good morning, baby girl. When are you going to start sleeping in, huh?”
She weighed almost nothing, but the way her tiny hand gripped my shirt anchored me better than any boardroom or pitch ever had. When we reached the kitchen, I shifted her to one arm, started the espresso machine, and let the familiar hiss of steam fill the kitchen.
It was efficient, precise. The way I liked things. Only, there was nothing crisp and clean about trying to foam milk one-handed while your infant gnawed through your collar.
“Your mother’s latte is a matter of national importance,” I informed her. She gave a delighted squeal, utterly unimpressed by the gravity of my mission. “Alright, then, but you’re explaining if we get in trouble for serving up something subpar.”
We played for a while before we carried the tray upstairs.
Laney stirred as we entered, still half asleep, and smiled when she saw us.
Sunlight crept across the floorboards, warming the room as she pushed herself up and held out her arms. I simply wasn’t sure if she was reaching for the baby or the latte.
“She’s been up since six,” I said, setting the latte on the nightstand since I figured she probably wanted Claire more. Probably. “She’s already tried to negotiate for solid food. It seems bananas are something squeal-worthy. Who knew?”
Laney laughed softly, reaching for Claire again, and our little girl’s entire face lit up when I passed her over. Watching them together still did something strange to me. Something unmeasured and unquantifiable.
For years, I’d thought love was transactional.
That people stayed or left based on terms that could be defined, amended, and enforced, but then Laney had crashed into my life—pretty much literally—and Claire had come five months ago, and the entire framework of my world had rearranged itself around them.
Laney fluffed a couple of pillows behind her, making a little nest for Claire as well. Then she took a sip of her coffee, a contented sigh working its way out of her after she’d swallowed. “Oh, God. That’s perfect.”
“I have my moments,” I replied, leaning against the doorframe with a small smile. “Also, if you keep moaning like that, we might have to start practicing for another one.”
She laughed. “Cool your jets, Westwood. Give a girl a chance to get used to being a mom of one, would you?”
I shrugged. “I’m not the one who moaned like that, am I? It was simply a warning.”
She groaned and rolled her eyes, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
The phone buzzed on my desk in the next room, notifications rolling in for emails, deals, and meetings, but for once, I didn’t move.
I stayed exactly where I was, watching my wife and daughter framed in morning light, feeling a warmth I still hadn’t quite learned to name.
There had been a time when I’d thought success meant control. Now I knew better. It was this. The laughter. The sunlight. The weight of a small hand gripping my shirt. The quiet certainty that there was nowhere I had to be as much as right where I fucking was.
Ignoring my phone, I pushed off the doorframe to join them in bed, shaking a rattle for Claire. My heart swelled to fifteen times its regular size as I looked into her cool blue eyes. I still couldn’t believe I’d helped to create something so perfect.
Not nearly long enough after, the stillness of the valley outside began to hum with movement.
The staff had arrived early, setting up long tables on the terrace and stringing lights through the olive trees for the party tonight.
From our bedroom window, I could see the rows of barrels stamped Claire Vineyards—our newest venture, named for the little tyrant currently cooing on the mattress between us.
The name had been Laney’s idea, but I’d loved it as soon as she’d first mentioned it to me.
In the years I’d owned this vineyard, we’d produced a couple hundred bottles a year and that had been enough for me, but when Laney and I had started coming out here more and more often, she’d learned from the staff that it had much more potential than we were tapping into.
One thing had led to another and here we were, building another business with the same precision with which I ran Westwood & Sons.
This place just had softer edges since Laney had also taken an active role. Our winemaker oversaw day-to-day operations, a full staff managed the estate, and we came up for a couple days every other week to check in. It was less about expansion and more about legacy.
Something slower. Something that tasted like home.
Laney and Claire were still tucked in when I left the bedroom, Claire clutched her mother’s hand and both of them were half-buried in sheets and sunlight.
I paused in the doorway for a moment, just long enough to burn the picture into my mind.
Then I headed downstairs as the first car pulled up the drive.
The whole family was coming out this weekend for the official launch.
Callum was out before the engine stopped, looking uncharacteristically ruffled. Immediately, I knew something was off. His usual easy grin was replaced by one that looked too forced, a wild panic in his eyes the likes of which I hadn’t seen since he and Maisie had made up before tying the knot.
“It’s good to see you, man,” he said as he shook my hand.
“You too.” I waved toward the house. “Laney’s upstairs with Claire, but you remember where the bedrooms are, right? Choose whichever one you want. Are you okay?”
Callum winced, scratching the back of his neck. “Ah… about that. No, I…”
He trailed off as Brody launched himself out of the car and toward the house. Brody called out a greeting to me and disappeared.
Callum lowered his voice. “I’m not okay. Maisie is pregnant.”
My eyebrows lifted, but it wasn’t that much of a surprise. I’d figured it was only a matter of time, and frankly, so had everyone else. “Congratulations?”
“Thanks,” he said, exhaling harshly. “It’s still early. The baby’s only due around Thanksgiving, but she’s been so sick. It’s brutal. She can barely keep water down some mornings, and I’m just useless, you know? I can’t fix it.”
For a moment, the professional fixer in me wanted to offer logistical solutions—a nutritionist, medication, but the brother I’d learned to become overrode the instinct. At least this explained the panic and why he seemed more worried than happy.
I clapped his shoulder. “You’re not useless. You’re there for her. That’s what matters, Cal. Nobody can really fix it for her in this particular phase of pregnancy, but you can keep her comfortable and make sure she has whatever she needs. Saltines. Tums. Ice cream and pickles.”
He nodded, his eyes tired but grateful. “Yeah, not a bad idea. It just feels like she’s doing all the work.”
“She is,” I admitted, letting a small smile slip through. “She’s got you with her this time though. She went through it all alone before, so just be there. Let that be the difference.”
Callum let out a bark of quiet laughter. “You’ve gone soft, Ice King. That’s for fucking sure.”
“Maybe,” I said, glancing back toward the house. “But it’s working for me.”
Maisie finally climbed out of the car, pale as hell and positively green around the gills. With one hand over her stomach, she stumbled toward the house, her usual warmth dimmed to a faint smile. Laney had come downstairs, waiting for them at the door.
She must’ve already passed Brody inside. As soon as her gaze met Maisie’s, she hurried over, ushering her gently inside with the kind of instinct I’d never quite mastered. Hell, I hadn’t even said hello to her yet and Laney was already taking care of her.
Laney mentioned a nap. Maisie didn’t protest, just nodding gratefully. They disappeared upstairs while Callum exhaled a heavy breath. “Shit, this sucks. How the hell has humanity survived this long, man?”
“Hormones,” I said simply. “In a few months, a cute little baby will be in your arms. She’ll forget just how intensely all this sucked and so will you, because it will all be worth it. Let’s give them some space. Do you want to give Brody a tour of the grounds?”
He nodded, looking a little green around the gills himself. I figured it was either a walk or a whiskey and it was barely ten a.m. He was going to have to make do with some fresh air. I went inside and called to Brody, figuring Callum could probably use the walk too.
Brody came barreling down the stairs toward me. We took him down the gravel path that cut through the vineyard. The boy darted ahead between rows of vines heavy with ripening fruit.
“How’re you doing?” Callum asked after a few quiet minutes. “You’ve finally risen to the throne and it’s been a few months. I feel like we’ve barely spoken, but you’re filling big shoes. You okay?”
I smiled faintly. “They were always mine to fill. He just finally stepped aside far enough to really let me do it. I’m okay.”
He chuckled. “It’s still strange to even think the words ‘retired’ and ‘Harlan Westwood’ in the same sentence.”
“It is, but he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him. You’ve seen all those pictures they’ve been sending us of sunsets and wine lists. He and Mom are living the dream.”
Callum laughed, and for a moment, it felt like we were kids again. The ease of just talking to him, just being with my brother and not having anything urgent or pressing made me feel lighter.
Words I’d been needing to say to someone, but hadn’t known who to choose, pressed up against my throat, rising from my chest with startling insistence.
“Honestly, I always thought I’d step into this job alone.
That I’d have a wife who would stay in the shadows, maybe.
No time for anything else. That was the plan. Efficient, contained.”
He shot me a disbelieving look, one eyebrow raised. “And now?”
I watched Brody pop a fallen grape into his mouth. Beyond him, the house stood gleaming in the distance. Our house, at our vineyard, where Laney, Claire, and I were living the life I never thought I’d choose.
“Now I know I was wrong,” I said curtly. “Laney and Claire aren’t only distractions or the fulfillment of my duties. They’re the point of it all. It turns out, I can have everything all at once. The work, the success, and the home. I just had to stop thinking one came at the expense of the other.”
Callum nodded slowly, suddenly thoughtful. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear that from you.”
“Neither did I.”
I’d never thought that my life could or would turn out like this. I’d never even given this kind of existence any consideration at all.
When my father had issued that ultimatum, I’d accepted because it had been my duty. I hadn’t expected that I would ever feel so settled or so happy about it, but these days, I didn’t feel like I was chasing anything.
I felt like I’d already arrived. I was living my highly unlikely happily ever after, and fuck, I never thought it would make me so damn happy.