He took my hand, and we walked inside together.
The room wentquiet when we entered.
Notsilent—there were too many people for true silence—but the conversations died down as heads turned in our direction. I felt every pair of eyes cataloging my appearance. The loose waves in my hair instead of my usual tight bun. The slight swell of my stomach that I’d stopped trying to hide beneath structured blazers and empire waists.
Lucia reached us first.
“Mijo.”She pulled Kick into a hug that looked like it might crack his ribs, then turned to me with that same warm smile from last night. “Isabel. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Before I could respond, she embraced me too. Her arms were strong and sure, and she smelled like cinnamon and something floral—gardenia, maybe, or jasmine. My throat tightened at the unexpected tenderness.
“Thank you for having me,” I managed.
“Having you?” She laughed, a rich sound that filled the space around us. “You’re family now. No invitation necessary.”
Her words landed in my chest and stayed there, sharp-edged and uncomfortable.
Kick’s brothers descended next. I’d met them before at various wine industry events, but usuallyfrom a distance. Always as Baron Van Orr’s daughter, the woman who made a spectacle of herself at the bachelor auction every year. Now, they shook my hand, clapped Kick on the shoulder, and made jokes about their baby brother finally settling down.
Brix was the quietest of them, his handshake firm but brief. His dark eyes assessed me without revealing his conclusions. Cru was warmer, asking about our work at Whitmore with genuine interest, wanting to know about the reserve program and distribution channels. Bit grinned and told me I must be a saint to put up with Kick, then ducked when his younger brother swung at him.
Tryst, Kick’s uncle, held my hand in both of his. “Welcome to the family, Isabel. Kick is lucky to have found you.”
“Thank you,” I said, and meant it, even as I wondered how long it would take them all to realize their mistake.
The other women hung back at first, watching from near the tasting bar.
Saffron was the first to approach me. She stepped forward and squeezed my hand. “I’m so glad you’rehere, Isabel. I mean that,” she said with a smile that meant more than she probably knew.
“Everyone,” Kick called out, clapping his hands to gather attention. “Isabel and I have news we’d like to share.”
The room went quiet again. This time, true silence. Even the children stopped moving, as if they sensed the gravity of the moment. A toddler—little Trystan, I remembered, Bit’s son—squirmed in Eberly’s arms but didn’t make a sound.
Kick squeezed my hand. We’d talked about this last night, how we wanted to announce it together, how he’d take the lead if I needed him to. I needed him to.
“Isabel and I are having a baby,” he said, looking at me with so much emotion that my heart swelled. “She’s my family now. And that means she’s yours too.”
For three heartbeats, nothing happened.
Then Lucia burst into tears.
“A baby,” she whispered, pressing her hands to her chest. “Another grandbaby. Oh,mijo.”
The room erupted. Congratulations poured in from every direction. Brix shook Kick’s hand and smiled at me. Actually smiled. Cru embraced him and poundedhis back. Bit whooped loud enough to startle little Trystan into crying, which made everyone laugh.
The women moved toward me in a tide of smiles and questions. Addison reached me first, her red hair catching the light from the twinkling strings overhead.
“When are you due?” she asked.
“July.”
“Do you know what you’re having?”
“Not yet.” If someone else was asking me these same questions, I’d probably bristle. But Addy was one of the nicest people I’d ever met.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine, mostly. Tired sometimes.”
