Juniper Hill (The Edens)

It was noon by the time we made it home from the hotel. I’d called and asked Roxanne to cover for me again. So while we’d waited for her to come in, I’d busted out some prep work as Memphis and Drake had waited in my office.

The drive home had felt too long, just like the hours before. All I wanted to do was find out what the hell had happened with Memphis’s parents, but when we finally walked through the door at home, Drake started crying.

“He missed his morning nap.” Memphis propped him on one hip while she mixed a bottle with the other. Then she took him to the chair, settling him on her lap.

“Are you hungry?” I asked her.

“Not really.”

Yeah, I wasn’t either. My stomach had been in a knot since she’d walked into the kitchen with tears in her eyes. So I went to the couch and sat on its edge, propping my elbows on my knees. Waiting.

Drake finished his bottle in no time and then as Memphis held him, he quickly drifted off to sleep.

“Want me to take him and put him in the crib?” I asked.

“No, I’ll just hold him.” She looked down at her son and traced her fingers along his forehead, brushing the wisps of hair out of his face. “Some days it feels like he’s all I have.”

“Not anymore.”

Memphis looked up and there were those tears again. Seeing them hurt every goddamn time. “I told you my dad was angry when I refused to tell him about Drake’s father.”

I nodded. “You did.”

“He’s not used to being denied. I don’t know if I’ve ever actually heard anyone tell him no. So his ego is . . .”

“I get it.” I’d worked for chefs like that early on in my career. They’d get spun up about something trivial and go ballistic, simply because their arrogance made it so.

“When I refused to tell Dad, he pressed and pressed. The more he demanded answers, the less I spoke. It’s ironic because in the thick of it, he called me stubborn. I guess I learned it from him.”

“He’s an ass, Memphis.”

“Pretty much.” She sighed. “He could have just respected my wishes. I’d still be in New York if he had trusted me. If he had listened when I said I had my reasons for keeping the secret. Instead, we got into a huge fight and well . . . you know the rest.”

The rest meaning she’d fled home, moving across the country alone with an infant. Because Victor Ward couldn’t control his daughter.

Memphis glanced at Drake once more, her eyes softening. “Drake’s father isn’t a good man.”

I sat straight. “Did he hurt you?”

“Only my heart,” she whispered.

And for that, I’d hate the bastard for the rest of my days.

“Drake’s father is a man named Oliver MacKay.” She met my gaze as her shoulders slumped. “No one but you has ever heard that sentence.”

“No one?” Not even her mother? Or a friend?

“Just you.” She swallowed hard. “And I know you won’t, but I have to say it anyway. Please, never tell a soul. No one can know.”

No one could know? “Why? You’re scaring me, Memphis. If you’re in danger—”

“I’m not. Oliver wants nothing to do with me just as much as I want nothing to do with him.”

“Then why is this a secret?”

She dropped her chin. “Because his wife is the daughter of an Italian mafia boss.”

If my brain could have exploded, it would have. What. The. Fuck?

The room went still. The light outside seemed to dim, like the sun was covered in a cloud. And Memphis sat perfectly still, her confession ringing in the air as she clutched her baby boy.

“I don’t . . .” I dragged a hand over my beard, scrambling for something to say.

Fuck. The mob? I didn’t know a damn thing about the mafia other than what I’d seen in movies and television. Hollywood embellished, but I was sure there was a thread of truth.

“Is that why you moved here?” I asked. “To escape the city?”

“No. I could have stayed, rented an apartment and found a job in New York, but the city had lost its appeal. Mostly because of my family. Putting thousands of miles between me and Oliver was just a bonus. I moved here because Montana sounded like a dream. I wanted Drake to have space to breathe. To roam and play. A home where the Ward name meant nothing and no one would attempt to control his life by holding a trust fund over his head.”

“Makes sense.” If I had her family, I probably would have split for the countryside too. Except I didn’t know if I would have walked from that kind of money.

I’d thought it the first time she’d told me, but God, she was strong. Not many people would have walked away from millions. If Drake ever doubted her love for him, I’d be there to set him straight.

“Oliver . . .” She made a sour face. “When we met, I didn’t know who he was. I hadn’t heard his name before. It’s not like he’s ever in the news. And there are plenty of rich men in New York.”

I tensed, my shoulders stiffening. This was never going to be easy to hear. I didn’t like the idea of her with any other man, but especially the one who’d helped her make Drake.

Part of me would be jealous of that son of a bitch all my life.

“We met in a hotel in Miami,” she said. “In the bar. I was there for work. So was he. We hit it off and spent the weekend together. Neither of us shared a lot of personal details. It wasn’t that type of weekend.”

My skin crawled but I sat quietly and listened, my teeth grinding together.

“It wasn’t until the end of the weekend that we realized we were both from New York. He asked if he could see me again. I’d had fun, so of course I said yes. Oliver is older, in his early forties. He’s charismatic. Handsome. Wealthy. Powerful. Being around him was . . . addicting. And I was a spoiled, stupid fool.”

There was so much guilt in her voice. So much shame. It weighed on her slight shoulders and dimmed the light in her eyes.

“We started dating, if you could even call it dating. We spent most of our time at my townhouse. Some at his Upper East Side apartment. He was an entrepreneur. I worked constantly. But he was my escape. And I loved him. Or . . . I thought I loved him.” Her forehead furrowed. “Can you love someone when they keep you in a bubble?”

“No, probably not.” I’d thought I loved Gianna. Would have sworn it in blood. Except what we’d had wasn’t love. Not even close.

“He didn’t share many personal details. Neither did I. Communication was not the leading lady in our relationship. He asked me early on if we could keep our relationship to ourselves, just to see where it was going before it became public. That was fine by me because I was happy to keep him to myself. But after three months, I wanted more. I wanted to tell my friends. I wanted to show him off. So I asked him if he would accompany me to a party. It was this fancy, audacious function but I used to love fancy and audacious.”

“Really?” That didn’t seem like her at all.

“A lot has changed.” She lifted a shoulder and nodded at Drake. “That version of me died the day he was born.”

“Or maybe you found who you’d always been meant to be.”

She gave me a sad smile. “Maybe.”

“What happened at the party?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t go. I asked him to be my date and he told me that he couldn’t go because his wife would be there. He said it like it was obvious. That I should have known I was just his mistress.”

“You had no idea.”

More guilt and more shame clouded her face. “No. Maybe I should have. But the old version of me liked the bubble.”

“You trusted him.”

“A mistake.”

“Not yours, honey.” That motherfucker had deceived her intentionally.

“I broke it off. Called him a lot of names and told him to forget mine. Then a few weeks later, I wasn’t feeling well. I missed my period and . . .”

“You found out you were pregnant.”

She touched Drake’s cheek. “I was lax with my birth control. Irresponsibility was another flaw of the former me. I’d miss a day on my pill. I’d spend the night at his place and head straight into work, doubling up the next morning. Basically, I was a fucking idiot. But I don’t regret it.”

“You shouldn’t.” That little boy was a miracle.

From the sounds of it, he’d transformed Memphis’s life. It was nearly impossible to look at her and imagine the woman she was describing. She was probably just being too hard on herself. But I didn’t doubt that she’d changed.

“The whole truth came out after that. That apartment of his wasn’t his home. It was just where he’d hidden his secret whore.” Her chin quivered. “My dad called me a whore today.”

“What the fuck?” God, I wished I had punched that asshole in the face yesterday. I shouldn’t have let her go and talk to them alone.

Memphis shrugged, her eyes avoiding mine.

“Look at me.” I waited until she lifted her chin. “Fuck him for saying that.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Still . . . Google would have told me exactly who Oliver was. I looked him up the day he told me he was married. The internet was very informative. That was the second-worst day of my life. The day I realized just how gullible and shallow I was.”

“This is not your fault. Trusting someone you care about is not wrong.”

She met my gaze, her eyes softening. We’d both been fooled by the ones we’d loved. I’d trusted Gianna too.

The distance between us was too much, so I stood and skirted the coffee table, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. Then I took Drake from her arms, keeping hold as I pulled her to the guest bedroom.

Before long, we’d get a real crib. We’d haul this bed out of here and make it a nursery. Drake needed his own room.

I laid Drake in his crib, then pulled Memphis to the mattress, curling her into my chest. “What happened when you told him you were pregnant?”

“By that point, I’d learned who his wife was and the speculation about her family. It scared the hell out of me. I was afraid that she’d find out about the affair, about the baby, and decide to come after us. I wasn’t going to tell Oliver at all, but he showed up at my house one day.”

“Did he want you back?”

“No, he wanted my silence. He threw in a few threats about his wife and how she was often jealous. How she was connected to a dangerous family and it would be a shame to have trouble for my own family’s business. It was all very practiced, a message he’d obviously delivered before. He offered me fifty thousand dollars to keep our affair quiet.”

I leaned back, meeting her eyes. “But you didn’t take it, did you?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t want his money. All I wanted was his agreement. That my child was mine and mine alone. I’d stay quiet if he signed over all rights.”

From the beginning, she’d fought for Drake. “That’s my girl.”

A smile tugged at her mouth. “I almost didn’t tell him about the baby. I almost kept it quiet. But I didn’t want to look over my shoulder my entire life, wondering if he’d find out. Wondering if he’d want Drake. It was my window to negotiate and I took it.”

“So he’s gone.”

“He’s gone,” she whispered. “And unless I need that man’s kidney or liver or any other organ to save Drake’s life, I will never speak of him again. One day, I’m sure Drake will ask. But that’s a worry for tomorrow. I don’t want him anywhere near Oliver’s life.”

“Good.” I blew out a deep breath and pulled her closer. It was better this way. And if Drake ever needed a kidney or a liver or any other organ, he could have mine, assuming they were a match.

“Not good.” She pulled away, flopping onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “Someone knows.”

“What?” I stiffened. “Who?”

“I don’t know. But that’s the reason my parents are here. A woman is blackmailing Dad. She said she’d go to the press and say I had Oliver’s baby.”

“Fuck.”

“Pretty much.” She rubbed at her temples. “I was afraid to ask too many questions today. Mom and Dad suspect Oliver, but I wasn’t going to confirm it. There’s a whole convoluted history there. It’s rumored that my grandfather had some mafia ties when he started Ward Hotels. If it’s true, Dad severed those decades ago. But it has him spooked.”

“Shit,” I muttered. “What happens if this woman goes to the press?”

“I’ll deny it. Oliver will deny it. But speculation will run rampant. And his wife will no doubt suspect we had an affair.”

“That’s her problem. What about Drake? What kind of agreement did you make?”

“I have a signed document stating he’s waived all parental rights. But . . . it’s not notarized. It’s not filed. I’m banking on the fact that he’ll never change his mind. If he does . . .”

“If he does, he’ll have one fucking fight on his hands. He’s not getting Drake.”

“He’s not getting Drake,” she repeated.

“What about your parents? What are they going to do?”

“I have no idea.” She groaned. “I’m sure this trip was not what Dad planned. He probably expected to come here, find me poor and miserable and grateful to be flown back to New York in their private jet. Instead, I told them to shove it.”

When she stuck out her tongue, I chuckled. “You did the right thing, staying quiet.”

“I hope so.” She sighed. “My dad knows of Oliver and his connections. He also knows that any tie to them would damage his reputation. That’s the only child he actually cares about. His precious reputation. Best case scenario, he pays the woman to stay quiet. He’ll probably use the money from my trust fund.”

“Worst case, this blows the fuck up.”

“Yep.” She put her palms to her eyes. “What a goddamn mess.”

“Who do you think this woman is? Did your dad tell you?”

“He doesn’t know.” She sat up, scooting to the end of the bed to look at Drake. “Maybe it’s an employee. Or another mistress.”

The son of a bitch had probably been with other women while he’d been with Memphis. He’d had a treasure, a pure-gold treasure, and rather than cherish her, he’d used her for his own greed.

His loss. My gain.

“Do you think the woman who contacted your dad could be his wife?” I asked.

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Though why would his wife need to blackmail my family for money? She’s got plenty. She could just divorce Oliver’s ass and take his money too.”

“Unless he’s got a prenup.” I climbed off the bed. Or, if the mafia was as ruthless as I suspected they were, she’d get her family involved and inherit his assets upon his untimely death.

“There’s more. Something happened, right before I left,” she said. “I was in the middle of packing, loading up the Volvo. I came out of my townhouse carrying a box and there was a woman waiting. An FBI agent.”

My stomach dropped. “Is the FBI investigating Oliver?”

“I don’t know. Probably. She showed me her badge and asked if I knew Oliver MacKay. I said, ‘Who?’ and excused myself to go check on Drake. I watched from the window as she walked away. The next day I was on the road.”

I rubbed my jaw. “An FBI agent wouldn’t blackmail your parents for money.”

“No. It’s got to be someone close to Oliver. Someone he pissed off. And someone who knows my family has money.” Memphis wrapped her arms around her waist. “Why won’t this go away? I just want it to end.”

I sat beside her, pulling her into my arms. “It will end.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, honey.”

“Maybe I should just go back to New York. Find out who this woman is. Pay her—”

“No. It’s not an option, Memphis.”

She looked up at me, those brown eyes full of apology. “I never meant to drag you into all of this.”

“You didn’t drag me anywhere. I came willingly. Out my front door, up a staircase and into your loft, remember?”

Memphis gave me a sad smile. “Knox, I can’t put this on you.”

“You’ve never been able to count on anyone, have you?”

She blinked, like the reality of her life had just hit her in the face.

“You were so alone that you left. Because you had no one. But you’ve got me now. And like I told you the other night, I’m not going anywhere.” Maybe if I told her enough, she’d believe it.

“Promise?”

I dropped a kiss to her mouth. “I swear it.”