The Bastard Heir

Eight years ago, she broke me.

Her secrets drove a wedge between me and my brother that can never be fixed.

Now, with my life in shambles, I’m forced by the ludicrous demands of my dead father to face the one woman I ever loved, and the brother I can not stand.

I need the money. But a year is a long sentence to serve in a house with people I hate, and in a town that hates me.

A year is a long time to dodge Harlow Jackson and the eyes and smile that made me fall harder than I’ve ever fallen before.

But it only takes days to show me that what happened eight years ago was a mistake. Now I need every last second of the year ahead to convince her to take a second chance on us.

***This is the first book of the Winter Harbor series which features a quirky small town, secrets galore, and three estranged brothers who find the key to healing comes from the women who steal their hearts.

***Trigger warning: Breast cancer

“Are you fucking serious right
now?”

I couldn’t believe those words
came out of my mouth.

No, scratch that.

I couldn’t believe I spoke like
that to my boss. The one in charge of my pending career advancement. The
one I’d been quietly convincing to make me partner.

Dalton’s lips thinned. “Harlow, I
know your caseload is already bursting. But trust me when I say—this will
put you ahead.”

I
rolled my lips inward to prevent any unsavory outbursts that might ruin my
standing on the spot. Spring
sunlight filtered through the wooden slats covering his western-facing window
overlooking the port. Here in Winter Harbor, damn near every day was
picturesque. But the silently bobbing boats and the clear blue sky did nothing
to quiet the storm inside me.

Dalton had a fair point. This
case would give me the leverage I needed to prove to him and the other name partner,
Troy, that I could hack it with my last name on the leaderboard. They were Quick
& Fairchild right now, but if I joined the ranks of their Oregon-famous
estate law firm, it would turn into Quick, Fairchild & Jackson. Elegant.
And something I’d been working for since day one of my legal career.

I just couldn’t take on this
case.

And I couldn’t tell Dalton why.

“I hear you,” I said slowly,
almost robotically, as I stared out the window, trying to find solace in the lapping
of the water against the docks. “I just wonder if I could prove my chops
elsewhere, and we could assign the Winters case to Stephanie or … or Ian.”

Just saying the name of the
client—Winters—sent a chill down my spine. I hadn’t thought of the
Winters family since my senior year of college. No, that was a lie. I thought
of a certain Winters man practically every day since my senior year of college
when he dumped me and left me in one of the biggest, most assholish fashion the
world has ever seen.

But I’d never let him know that
he’d ever graced my mind after that horrible day. And I would certainly never agree
to take a case that put me in direct contact with him—or his brother—again
nearly eight years after his inglorious exit from my life.

“I’m offering this to you because
I want to see you succeed.” Dalton barely concealed his sigh. “Because I think
you’re ready. Unless you want Ian to become partner instead of you.”

And there it was—the audible
snapping of the last straw. I couldn’t dodge this. The Winters case had been
managed for almost a year by a former partner who’d disappeared suddenly last week
in a puff of scandal and gambling debt. I aimed to replace him, but apparently,
it meant taking on the one case I would rather amputate a leg to avoid. The
case I’d only found out about accidentally an hour ago when Dalton’s secretary
sent me a forwarded email from Callum Winters himself, confirming with the
legal group when we’d be meeting him today.

“I was planning to take it myself—which
is why you’re just hearing about this at the eleventh hour—but I just took over
the Ludgate estate, and that is going to take up all of my time.” He heaved a
big, weary sigh.

The Ludgate estate was a
disaster. I did not envy my boss.

"I don’t know, Dalton …” For
a lawyer, my argument was weak sauce. We both knew it.

“You can do this. I have complete
faith in you, Harlow.” Dalton placed a fatherly hand on my shoulder, his
expression sympathetic, but I could also see that he was running out of
patience with my resistance to this career-changing case.

I gnawed on the inside of my lip
as I relegated myself to the facts. Dalton was giving me the case. The Winters brothers—all
three of them, but two in particular who were noteworthy parts of my personal
history—were about to be within three feet of me. And I’d be partner soon, so
this would all be worth it. Probably.

Even if running into Callum
Winters sent me to an early grave with no updated will in place.

I’m an estate attorney. I should
know better.

“You’re right,” I said, propping
my hands on my hips. “The case is mine. There’s no problem at all. And I’ll
show you that you made the right choice.”

Because if there was one thing
worse than facing Callum Winters again, it was losing the promotion to name
partner at the firm of my dreams.

Dalton only looked minorly
convinced as I sent him a tight smile and marched back to my own office. My
heels clicked on the expensive sandalwood flooring, age-old anger burbling back
to life inside me.

How could it be that I was thirty
years old and still not over the fact that Callum Winters was a dick to me
eight years ago?

I’d graduated from college.
Passed the bar in Oregon. Joined one of the most respected practices in the
entire state. Branched off into estate law, which was my passion, even though
it went against the grain of what my entire family of lawyers practiced. I
owned a townhome just off the gorgeous main boulevard and spent my days proving
my worth in the legal field. Add in the fact that I was now gloriously
cancer-free and had been for two and half years, and life was what most normal
people would call awesome.

So why was my entire body getting
hot and prickly just thinking about seeing freaking Callum Winters again?

According to the email chain,
Callum and Co had been corresponding with Dalton’s secretary for the past week
about what to do regarding their recently deceased father’s will. They were
coming to Winter Harbor—their father’s hometown … and mine—to wrap up
his affairs. Which meant that they were very likely down the street from
me, and I was supposed to act like everything was okay.

“Hey, Bets?” I paused at my
secretary’s desk—well, my shared secretary with Ian, but I knew she secretly preferred
me. “I need the Winters family file, ASAP, with a cherry on top.”

Betsy smiled as she clicked
through screens on her computer. “You got it, Harlow. Anything else?”

“A martini, maybe,” I collapsed
into the chair facing her desk. She was a lifeline of the practice, and
probably very underpaid. Once I became partner and made her into my main
secretary, though, I planned to change that. “Possibly a massage after that.”

She snickered as the printer kicked
to life. “That’s all doable.”

“You’re the best, Bets. I’ll need
you to send me your good juju for this meeting.” I checked my phone for the
time. Half-past eleven. The Winters brothers would be facing me in less than an
hour. That was plenty of time to get up to speed on their case … but not nearly
enough time to fortify my heart for seeing my first—and only—love again.

Or his younger brother, the man
who’d come between us.

“Good juju: sent,” Bets replied
as she collected the pages slipping out of the printer. “Though I thought you
had plenty to spare.”

I smoothed the front of my
pressed black pants. Betsy had no idea about how much juju I needed if I was going
to be facing down Callum and Carson Winters again. Hell, even I didn’t
know how much juju I needed. I was just sure that it wouldn’t be enough.

“It’s always smart to get a
little extra.” I  took the print-outs
from her.

“Especially if you’re dealing
with the Winters family.” Betsy lobbed a sigh that held
weariness. As though she had some experience with them.

“I haven’t dealt with them,
actually.” Better to not admit my previous romantic attachment to someone who
was suddenly my client. If there was one thing I would not give Callum Winters,
it was the satisfaction of knowing he’d stood in the way of my promotion. “Have
you?”

Betsy
leveled me with her warm brown gaze, wisps of gray hair escaping her low
ponytail. “The whole town has
experience with the Winters. Not the kids, of course. Nobody knows about them
since they’ve never come around.” She waved her hand dismissively. “But the man
whose estate you’re handling now? Everyone above fifty-five in this town knows
about Elliot and Camille.”

She was right. My parents had
murmured vaguely about the sad Winters story plenty of times during my youth,
but I never paid much attention. It had always seemed like something antiquated
and irrelevant. But I’d never thought that Callum Winters could be
related to Winter Harbor.

The mention of Callum’s mother
made my stomach jolt. He’d always spoken about her with such fondness. It was
strange to think that Callum’s father and I shared a hometown, but that Callum
had likely never even been here before.

Until now.

“Ancient history, right?”

Betsy didn’t laugh or even smile.
Instead, she reached for my wrist. “Let me just say, you need the juju. That
family is bad news.”

I almost laughed because I knew
what level of bad news Callum truly was … and his brother Carson, for that
matter. But I didn’t know why the rest of his family was bad news. Or why that
meant I should care.

“Things will be fine,” I told
her, more to reassure myself than her. “This is a simple inheritance case and
then, boom. All done. Easy as cake.”

“As pie,” Betsy corrected me.

“That’s what I meant. It’s easy
like baking in general.” Even though, for my kitchen-impaired self, baking was
an intolerable chore.

“Mm-hmm.” Betsy’s little smirk
told me exactly what she thought of that. “You were too young to know Elliot
Winters. He fled town before you were even born. But if those sons of his are
even one-eighth as shady as he was … well …” Betsy glanced over my shoulder and
down the hall, probably checking to see if Dalton or Troy, the other partner,
was coming. “You need to check and double-check every single thing they tell
you.”

I swallowed a knot in my throat
and forced a smile. Bets had no idea how right she was. And unfortunately, I’d
already learned this lesson.

Because Callum wasn’t just my
first love.

His younger brother, Carson, was
my ex.

I excused myself to get my
things, drawing deep, fortifying breaths. I needed to get to the abandoned Hope
Creek Manor where I’d be meeting the Winters brothers, and I needed to get
there early so that I could get my bearings and prepare myself.

Even still, having a plan didn’t
keep my knees from feeling like mush as I packed my briefcase and headed out
the door. Eight years had passed. Who knew where they were in their lives?
Hopefully happily married and moved on. Where I should be, too. Where I would
be, I supposed, if it weren’t for Callum.

A sharp ache registered in my
chest, and I took a deep breath of the crisp April air to distract myself. No
need to get lost in the swirl of ancient heartbreak and oh woe is me, my
squandered soul mate. No, I’d been down that road too many times—especially
when drunk. I loved to torment myself with the ridiculous notion that Callum
was the one for me. The one who’d ruined it all. The one who I might have a
second chance with if only the stars aligned.

Well, now that the stars were
aligning, they looked more like a comet heading for disaster. This churning in
my gut—this couldn’t be the marker of a soul mate. This could only signal a bad
idea or food poisoning.

Harlow, get yourself together.

The salty sea breeze calmed me as
I headed for my black two-door coupe at the front of the office on Main Street.
Winter Harbor was a quaint and cozy town with plenty of locally-owned
restaurants and a bustling port. It was not only my hometown but also my sanctuary.
And as I navigated the back roads to the impressive plantation-style home, I
vowed to not let this heartbreak blast from the past disrupt my peace and
tranquility.

I had fought long and hard for
this little slice of success. I wasn’t going to let the ghost of my love affair
with Callum Winters haunt me forever.

            Right?

I squeezed the steering wheel the
whole way, up until I sat in front of the impressive mansion. However decrepit
it had become over the years, it was still a sight to behold. Overgrown bushes
clogged the wooden steps to the wraparound porch, and huge oak trees crowded
the expansive front yard. But the late 19th-century Queen Anne-style
Victorian mansion was a gem, even with the cracking white paint and the echoes
of the broken family that used to inhabit this space. The family that had
started Winter Harbor.

The grandsons of which were
scheduled to arrive any minute now.

Inside
my car, parked in the big cul-de-sac driveway in front of the house, I drew a
deep breath.

Because
seeing him again after eight years wasn’t bad enough. No, now I had to confront
the distinct possibility that he and his brothers might become the newest
residents of Winter Harbor. It was a good thing my parents were taking an
extended vacation in Europe because, as lawyers themselves, they always loved
to talk shop with me, especially when they were six thousand miles away from
their own caseloads. And they would have plenty of questions about my newest
case being tied to the only man responsible for breaking my heart. For now, I
didn’t have to tell them that my ex was back in our hometown requiring my legal
services.

So
maybe this whole situation was just reinforcing the truth that my parents knew
all along: it’s best to stay in the family business. I had to be the rebel who branched
out into estate law, even though I had a cozy spot waiting for me at my mom and
dad’s intellectual property and contract firm. Their Winter Harbor practice had
taken off so much that my brother had opened a Portland office. That could have
been me. But no. I insisted on this career whose sole outcome was to lead me
back to my ex.

But I
just loved estate law. During my second year of law school, I was allowed to
sit in on a case between three siblings, fighting over their inheritance. It
got so ugly that it went to court. The entire ordeal grew so surreal that it
seemed something more suited for a season of Melrose Place than real life. But
that just played into my love of dramatic soap operas—thanks to summers spent
being babysat by my grandmother when I was a kid. So after that trial, I was
hooked and determined to go into estate law.

Gravel crunched on the driveway,
jerking me out of my thoughts. Panic started a hot, insidious trail through
my limbs. Truth was,
I could tell myself I was ready for this moment as much as I wanted, but I’d
never truly be ready to face down Callum again.

Through my rearview mirror, I
watched as a broad-shouldered man exited a car. I didn’t need to watch for long
to know who it was. The way he raked his fingers through longish, dark brown
hair stirred memories in me I thought I’d laid to rest. Ice-blue eyes. Square
shoulders that had only grown wider, more filled out, in the eight years since
I’d seen him last.

I was staring at Callum Winters.

The only man I’d dared to love.

The only man who had ever broken
my heart.

And right beside him? Another
tall, dark, and handsome man with equally piercing blue eyes. And that’s when
the truth hit me like a sucker punch.