Juniper Hill (The Edens)

I was three steps down the hallway when the sight in my favorite chair stopped me midstride.

Memphis had Drake on her knee, holding him up by the armpits. She leaned in and blew a kiss on his neck, making him giggle. When he laughed, she laughed. When her eyes twinkled, his did the same. He had her eyes, chocolate brown flecked with gold.

The pair of them were in their own little world in that chair.

Memphis had rolled out of bed when he’d started making noises this morning. I’d rushed through a shower but now I saw the error of my ways. I should have been right here, watching from the sidelines because goddamn it, that was a view.

Nothing beyond my windows would ever compare.

Memphis pulled in an exaggerated breath, then kissed him again, earning another laugh. A big laugh for such a small person.

Drake would have a happy life. She’d make sure of it.

And after last night, I would too.

There was no going backward now. Not after last night.

She’d given me her best days. I’d give her mine.

Both of them.

I unglued my feet and padded into the living room, going to the back of the chair.

“Hi.” Memphis smiled as she looked up at me.

“Hi.” I pulled her blond hair out of her face and leaned forward, bending at the waist to kiss her. Then I stole Drake from her lap. “Morning, boss.”

He drooled and shoved a chubby fist in his mouth.

I kissed his cheek. “You’re getting big.”

Drake answered by popping that fist free and letting out a squeal that filled the house. The noise startled him, his eyes wide, and then he did it again, stretching it out louder and louder.

Memphis laughed. “This is his new party trick.”

“I like it.” I settled him against my ribs and carried him to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door.

Memphis followed, taking a seat on a stool at the island.

“When does he start getting solid foods?” I pulled out a carton of eggs.

“When he’s six months.”

“Couple more to go. Then I’ll hook you up, little man. We’re not doing boring baby food in this house.” I glanced over at Memphis. “Can babies have—what? What is that look for?”

She looked like she was about to cry. “You’re really not going anywhere, are you?”

“No.” I abandoned the fridge and walked around the island, crowding her space. “This is new. We’ll take a little time. Get used to each other. But I’m not the kind of man who gives up what’s good. And we’re good. We’re fucking good, honey.”

She nodded and smiled, wiping at her eyes. “We are good.”

I kissed her forehead, then handed her Drake. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Whatever you’re making.”

“How hungry are you?”

She shrugged. “I’m not starving.”

“Think you can wait an hour? I can make a quiche.”

“I’ll wait.”

I winked. “Good choice.”

“Wait.” She held up a hand as I pulled out a mixing bowl. “What about work?”

“I’m not working today.”

“But . . . it’s a Saturday.”

And since the day she’d moved in, I’d worked every Saturday. “I texted Roxanne last night and asked if she could cover today.”

“You did? When?”

“After you fell asleep.” I wanted a day with them. A full day, no distractions. Just another normal day to show her how good normal could be. “Got any plans today?”

“Um . . . no. I was going to clean the loft. Do some laundry.”

“How about we hang here instead?”

The smile that stretched across her pretty mouth made the flack I’d catch from Roxanne later worth it.

Never in my life had I canceled on work to be with a woman. Roxanne had already been teasing me for ditching out on prep work to hunt Memphis down in the hotel. So last night when I’d told her I’d give her an extra vacation day over Christmas if she worked for me, she’d sent a string of heart and eye-roll emojis and a single thumbs-up.

I went to the pantry for flour and salt to make the pie crust.

Memphis put Drake on a blanket on the floor in the living room to kick and squeal. Then she sat at the island and watched me work, her attention fixed on my every move.

“Watching you cook is better than TV.”

I chuckled and put the quiche in the oven. Then I washed my hands and tossed the towel aside before I slid onto the stool beside hers, fitting her legs between my spread knees. I skimmed her thighs, looking forward to Drake’s first nap, when I could strip her out of these pajama bottoms. “Kiss me.”

She leaned in but stopped, a whisper away from my lips. “Say please.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I won’t kiss you.”

I grinned, dragging my mouth across hers. “Sure about that?”

“Say please.”

“Please.”

She launched herself at me, flying off her stool. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders and her tongue was in my mouth. Fuck breakfast, I didn’t need a damn thing more than this woman.

Drake gave a wail, causing Memphis and me to freeze. Then we both laughed when he kept on babbling, testing the acoustics of my house.

“I’m going to run to the loft and grab a few more diapers.” She glanced at the timer on the oven. “Maybe take a quick shower.”

“Go for it. I’ll watch Drake.”

“Are you sure? I can just take him with me.”

“Nah. He’s happy.” My hand glided over the curve of her ass. “Bring over anything you want for today. And tonight.”

Now that she’d slept in my bed, there was no way she’d be spending another night in the loft.

“Thanks.” She kissed my cheek, then hurried for the door, stepping into her shoes and pulling her cardigan tighter.

When she was at the staircase to the loft, I stretched out beside Drake on the floor, pinching his toes and tickling his tummy.

The pain of being near him, the ache I’d felt early on, had vanished. When I looked at him, I didn’t see Jadon. I just saw Drake. My tiny boss.

“We need more toys.” Every time I’d gone to Griff and Winn’s place, Hudson had at least three new toys. Their living room had a basket overflowing with stuffies and plastic baubles. “Maybe you and Hudson can play together one day too. Build forts. Chase dogs. Be buddies.” Cousins.

I rolled onto my back, staring at the white ceiling. My brain was getting way too far ahead of reality.

That had been my problem with Gianna too. I’d been so lost in planning the future, in the idea of my own family, rowdy and rambunctious, that I’d missed the signs that she’d been keeping a secret.

Not long after she’d found out she was pregnant, Gianna would stare at me and open her mouth, but nothing would come out. There’d been times when I’d found her staring at a wall, her arms wrapped around her belly and her knee bouncing wildly. Other times, when I’d talk about the future and maybe moving us all to Montana one day, her face would pale.

“What’s the deal with your father?” I rolled to my side and looked at Drake. He had his feet in his hands and a glob of drool on his bottom lip. I wiped his mouth dry, then sighed. “Want to tell me about it since your mom doesn’t seem like talking?”

Another trickle of drool escaped.

She’d tell me. Memphis would eventually explain, wouldn’t she?

“What else should we have for breakfast? Fruit?” I jackknifed off the floor and swept Drake up, ruffling his hair. Then we retreated to the kitchen, where I shut down my own mental bullshit and concentrated on the meal.

There was no point in worrying. Memphis was not Gianna. She hadn’t confided in me about her past or Drake’s father and I had to believe that was for a reason. That she’d tell me when she was ready. We just hadn’t gotten there yet.

Like I’d told Memphis this morning. We’d take a little time. Get used to each other.

I was raiding my fruit bowl, pulling out a couple of peaches, when the crunch of tires and the hum of an engine sounded outside.

“Of course they show on my day off,” I muttered, sure it was either a parent or a sibling. But as I peered through the window that overlooked the sink, an unfamiliar black SUV rolled to a stop in the driveway.

“Someone got lost, didn’t they?” I asked Drake, walking to swipe up his blanket and wrap him up.

I was just pulling on a pair of boots when a man about the same age as my father stepped out from behind the SUV’s wheel. He adjusted the tie at his neck and tugged at the sleeves of his suit jacket.

But he didn’t come toward my door. He had his gaze on the loft.

Memphis stood in the middle of the staircase, her hand wrapped so tight around the railing that even from this distance I could see her white knuckles.

“What the hell?” I hustled to get my boots on.

By the time I opened the door, Memphis had come down the stairs to stand in front of the man, her shoulders stiff. Her expression was blank and as cold as the November morning. Her eyes narrowed. Her lips pursed.

The SUV’s passenger door opened as I came down the sidewalk and a woman dressed in an ice-blue pantsuit stepped out. Her heels teetered on the gravel as she walked to stand at the man’s side.

It was only when she looked over her shoulder—not at me, but at Drake—and pulled the sunglasses off her face did I recognize the resemblance. The brown eyes. The blond hair. The pretty nose and lovely chin.

Her mother.

My free hand balled into a fist.

“You’re unwelcome here.” Memphis’s voice carried strong and clear.

Damn straight they were unwelcome.

“Unwelcome?” The man I assumed was her father scoffed. “Enough of this act for attention, Memphis. We are leaving. Today.”

“Safe travels.” Her voice was as flat as her gaze.

I walked past her parents, taking a stance behind Memphis. It wasn’t easy, but I kept my mouth shut as her father looked me up and down with a sneer. When the mother stared at Drake like she was about to snatch him, I spun him away.

“I’ve been calling,” her mother said, her eyes still locked on the baby.

“And I haven’t answered.” Memphis shifted, putting herself in front of Drake.

That was who’d been calling. For months and months. Persistent, wasn’t she?

“Get in the car,” her father barked.

“No.” Memphis’s lip curled. “You have no say in my life. Leave.”

“You call this a life?” He curled his lip and glared at the loft. “You’re living above a garage. You’re cleaning rooms. You’re living on minimum wage.”

“That’s—wait.” Her spine, already stiff, became a rod of steel. “How do you know where I’m living and where I’m working?”

“Do you really think I’d let you just leave?”

Memphis scoffed. “You had me followed.”

Her mother dropped her chin. Her father raised his.

Months ago, right after she’d moved here, I’d seen that flash of headlights on the road one night. I’d thought it was someone who’d been lost. But maybe it had been whoever they’d sent to follow Memphis.

“How long did you have me followed?” Memphis asked.

Her father didn’t so much as blink at her question. It was clear he didn’t deem her worthy of an explanation. “We’re leaving. Get in the car.”

It was Memphis’s turn to blink.

“You signed a noncompete clause,” her father declared.

“Your point?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“You’re working at a hotel.”

“Is that what you’re worried about, Dad? That I’ll share company secrets? I’m a housekeeper. And Quincy, Montana, isn’t exactly the market for a Ward Hotel development.”

“I could take you to court.”

Was this motherfucker really threatening to sue his own daughter?

“Sue me.” Memphis shrugged. “Noncompetes are not enforceable in Montana. Yes, I checked. Nor have I violated the terms of my nondisclosure agreement by sharing confidential Ward Hotel information. But sue me. If you want to sever the very thin threads of our relationship, sue me. In the highly unlikely event a judge rules against me, then you can have the twenty dollars to my name. I’ll scrub bathrooms and make beds until I earn another twenty. But threatening me, ordering me around, didn’t work in New York. It sure as hell won’t work here.”

That was my girl. There was the fire. It took every ounce of restraint to keep quiet, but she didn’t need me stepping in for her. I would if I had to, but determination was creeping into her eyes. Like she was getting the chance to say the things that had been building in her mind for months.

“You have thirty seconds to load up that child and get into the car.”

“Or what?”

“Or you’ll hear from our lawyers.”

Memphis shook her head. “Why are you really here? Why have you been calling? What do you want from me?”

Her father stood taller. “You are my daughter. There are things to discuss. In private.” The man’s eyes flicked to mine. Maybe he realized right away that I wasn’t the type to be intimidated, but his gaze didn’t hold mine for long.

“I have nothing to discuss with you.” Memphis crossed her arms over her chest.

He reached for her, wrapping an arm around her elbow.

And that’s when I got really fucking pissed.

I grabbed that bastard’s wrist and tore it free. “You’re trespassing. Get the fuck off my property.”

“You have no say in this.” He shook his hand free, stretching for Memphis.

“Touch her again and they’ll never find your body.”

The mother gasped. The father paled, barely, but it was enough.

Without another word, I clasped Memphis’s hand and stormed past them, walking so fast that she had to jog every few steps to keep up.

The oven timer was beeping when we walked inside. I handed over Drake, kicked the door closed and stalked to the oven, taking out the quiche. The crust’s edges weren’t burnt but they were too dark.

I braced my hands on the sink, staring through the window as her parents climbed into their vehicle and disappeared. “Memphis—”

When I turned, she was standing by the window closest to the door, her eyes glued on the road. A stream of tears streaked down her face and she held Drake so tight that he began to squirm.

“Memphis.” I strode to the windows, reaching for Drake. But she didn’t let him go. “Give me the baby, honey.”

She shook her head. “I’ve got him.”

“I’m just going to set him down so we can talk.”

It took her a moment, but she finally let him go so I could lay out the blanket and set him down to play. Then I returned to the window and wrapped her up in my arms.

“Why won’t they forget me?” she whispered. The pain in her voice was enough for me to hate them and I didn’t even know their names.

“Because you’re hard to forget.”

“I hate that I’m crying.” Her voice cracked.

“Why?”

“Because after all they’ve done to me, I shouldn’t care. But I do.” A sob escaped. “For a moment, when I saw them drive up, I thought . . . maybe they were here to apologize. Maybe they were here to give me a hug and say they missed me. And I was so happy to see them because for better or worse, they are my parents. But they don’t care. Why don’t they care about me?”

She fell forward and had I not been holding her, she would have crumpled to the floor. So I spun her in my arms and held her tight, letting her cry into my T-shirt. When she finally stopped, she stood straight and the look on her face was heartbreaking.

She looked more beaten down than she had on the day she’d arrived.

“They didn’t even ask about Drake.” Her chin quivered. “They’ve never even asked me his name.”

“I’m sorry.” I used my thumb to catch a tear. “I’m so sorry.”

“They are ugly, aren’t they?” Memphis stepped away and walked to Drake, dropping on her knees at his side. Then she held his hand, drawing comfort from his tiny fingers. “We don’t need them, do we?”

No, they did not.

“I forgot his diapers.” Her shoulders fell.

“I’ll go get them.”

“I can.”

“No. You stay.” I was too pissed to stay still and needed the task to calm down before Memphis and I had a conversation.

I marched to the loft, the scent of Memphis’s soap in the air. There was an empty laundry basket on the counter so I swept it up and filled it to the brim. Diapers. Formula. Shampoo. Clothes. If I had to move her into my place one laundry basket at a time, so be it.

When I made it home, Memphis had moved to the living room. Drake was sucking down a bottle and she was curled into the corner of the couch, shrinking into the cushions.

Fuck those people.

“What are their names?” I asked, setting the basket down and taking the seat beside her. “Your parents. What are their names?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“So that when I curse them, either in my head or out loud, I can be precise.”

She gave me a sad smile. “Beatrice and Victor.”

Fuck Beatrice and Victor. “What am I missing, Memphis?” Because there had to be more to this story. Why had she declined her mother’s calls? Why had her mother kept calling? Why had they come to Montana to try and drag her back to New York?

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “But if I had to guess . . . I’d say they found out about Drake’s father.”

“You ready to tell me about that?”

“No,” she whispered. “Not yet.”

“Soon, honey.”

Dread crept into her expression.

A knot formed in my gut.

Another woman with secrets.

I guess I did have a type.