Juniper Hill (The Edens)

Eloise was checking in guests as I approached the front desk so I hovered back, waiting until they had their key cards and passed me for the elevators. She plopped into her seat and tucked a stray hair behind her ear as I walked over. “Phew. It’s been nonstop today.”

“You weren’t kidding about the holiday rush.”

Over the weekend, nearly every room in the hotel had been filled. The last of the guests had arrived today. We were fully booked for the entire week with visitors in town for Thanksgiving.

I’d been tidying occupied rooms all today, replacing towels and bedding and straightening up. The hallways had been vacuumed, the elevator cleaned. I’d just finished mopping the break room. Anything to keep busy. Frantic work and a maddening pace had been a godsend. It had allowed me to channel my nervous energy and keep my mind off of the unknowns.

My parents had checked out of The Eloise last week—not long after our discussion, according to Mateo. They’d probably left while we’d been in Knuckles. I hadn’t heard from them since.

Months and months of my mother’s constant calls. Now nothing but silence. Maybe she realized just how badly she’d hurt me. Maybe Dad had told her to stop calling. Maybe she’d given up.

I wished I missed my mother. I wished I could say that I’d missed the regular ringing of my phone. But it was a relief. I hadn’t realized how much pain had come with each of her calls, the bitterness they’d brought to each day.

Someday, my heart wouldn’t be so bruised. Someday, hopefully, these feelings toward her would soften. Someday, I might pick up the phone and call her for a change.

Just not today.

“Are you taking off?” Eloise asked, glancing at the clock.

“Unless you need me to do anything else.” It was just after five. Drake had to be picked up before six, but I had time if she needed me to deliver slippers or champagne to a room.

“No, you’ve been working your tail off this week. Have I told you how much I appreciate you? Because I do.”

“Thank you.” My chest swelled with pride. When I’d worked for Ward Hotels, it had been rare to receive a compliment. From my boss. From my father. Dad set the tone for the office and friendliness was a distant priority over accomplishment.

But Quincy was a welcoming place. People smiled as you passed them on the sidewalk and said hello. Neighbors watched out for neighbors. Strangers bought strangers a cup of coffee simply to be kind.

“See you tomorrow.” I waved at Eloise, then hurried to the break room to clock out. With my coat on and my purse slung over a shoulder, I headed for Knuckles.

Knox and I hadn’t seen each other since I’d left for work this morning. We’d both been swamped with the influx of guests, and today he’d started prep for the Thanksgiving feast he’d be serving on Thursday.

But even though we’d gone the whole day apart, there was comfort in knowing that he was always close by. If I needed him, he was there.

The restaurant’s tables were set, a few already occupied. The kitchen was bustling when I pushed open the swinging door. Skip was at the prep table, mixing a bowl of corn pasta salad. Roxanne was standing beside Knox, reviewing a menu card. Everyone looked my way when I stepped inside.

“I just wanted to say hi.” I waved to the room. “I’m heading out.”

“One minute.” Knox held up a finger. “Don’t leave yet.”

“Okay.” I shifted out of the way so I wouldn’t get bumped if a waitress came through the door.

“How’s it going, Memphis?” Skip asked.

“Busy day. You?”

“Same.” He tapped the handle of his wooden spoon on the side of the bowl, then took it to the dishwasher. Like Knox and Roxanne, he was wearing a white chef’s coat and today he was in a pair of loose cotton pants with a cheetah print.

“New pants, Skip?” Normally he wore jeans. The wild, bold and baggy pants had always been Roxanne’s forte.

“Pretty snazzy, huh.” He did a little two-step shuffle, dancing my way. “Roxanne told me I couldn’t pull off her style.”

“Because he can’t.” She shimmied over in her pink camo pants. The bright color matched the streaks that ran through her blond hair.

Skip scoffed and struck a pose. “Can too.”

The easy banter between the restaurant staff always made me smile. They teased each other. They teased Knox. But beneath the laughter and the jests, there was mutual respect.

Knox praised his staff regularly. He gave them advice and taught them new techniques. And in return, they adored him.

I adored him. More and more each day.

“All good, guys?” Knox asked, unbuttoning his coat.

“Yep.” Skip gave him a mock salute.

Roxanne nodded. “All good. Get out of here.”

“You’re not working tonight?” I asked.

He answered by disappearing to his office, returning a moment later with his Carhartt coat and truck’s keys. “There’s a storm blowing in. I don’t want you driving alone.”

“Okay.”

His protectiveness was second nature. He was a man who took charge. But unlike my dad’s barked orders and inability to compromise, Knox did it with care, not control. Like the way he’d moved us into his house. He hadn’t asked. He’d simply filled my laundry basket, one trip at a time, until all that remained in the loft were my empty suitcases. If I’d balked, he would have taken everything back.

“Hi.” He stopped beside me and dropped a kiss to my forehead. “How was your day?”

“Hi. Good.”

“You didn’t come see me on a break.”

“Because I didn’t take a break.”

He frowned and put his hand on my lower back, steering me out of the kitchen. A man at a table along the wall waved. Knox jerked up his chin but didn’t stop walking. “Anything from your parents today?”

“Not a word.”

“Damn.”

“Pretty much,” I muttered. We both wanted this over with.

After my confession last week, Knox and I had spent hours talking. Sharing about Oliver, spilling that secret, had lifted a weight from my shoulders. Knox had stepped in and a problem that had been mine was now ours.

I’d never been in a relationship of ours before. Not even with my parents.

Knox and I had decided that the only thing to do about my parents and this blackmailer was wait. Nothing good would come from me getting into the middle of the situation. If anything, it would only illuminate the truth.

This woman, whoever she was, had no proof that Oliver was Drake’s biological father. Our affair had been secret—Oliver had made sure of that, even if I hadn’t realized it at the time. She was likely acting on a hunch, so I’d keep my son and his DNA far, far away from the city.

If my father decided not to pay her off, then life would get complicated. But I was counting on Dad’s first love: his image.

His reputation had always been his priority. It was the reason his hotels were labeled boutique hotels. He wanted the Ward name to be known for extravagance and exclusivity.

“We’ll deal.” Knox took my hand. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal. Together.”

Together. I stared up at his handsome profile and let that word roll through my mind.

Was this too good to be true? My heart couldn’t take it if this fell to pieces. Because day by day, night by night, I was falling for Knox.

Maybe I already had.

Would he wake up tomorrow morning and realize he could have so much more than me? Would he resent the drama I’d brought to his life?

“What?” Knox nudged my arm.

“Nothing.” I clutched his hand tighter, then let it go as we stepped outside.

A blast of snow hit me in the face. I gasped at the cold wind, burrowing deeper into my coat, then hurried to my car.

“Get in. I’ll clear the window.” He opened my door for me, and as I turned on the engine, he used his sleeve to wipe the windshield.

I cranked the heat while he cleared his truck, then I led the way across town to the daycare. Wind whipped snowflakes through the air. It was so thick I couldn’t see farther than a block ahead. My knuckles were as white as the sky by the time I eased into the daycare’s parking lot.

Knox parked beside me, waiting as I rushed inside to collect my son.

I was just down the hallway when Jill’s voice caught my ear. “She’s shacked up with him already.”

My footsteps slowed, my hands fisting at my sides. Not again.

Nothing much had changed with daycare. Jill still irritated the hell out of me, but she worshiped Drake. So even though I had to tear him from her arms every evening, I forced fake smiles with gritted teeth.

This was the first time in weeks that I’d overheard her gossip. Probably because she was usually alone in the nursery.

I quickened my steps, making it to the doorway. “Hi.”

Both women’s eyes went wide. Guilt crept into their expressions. Yep, they’d been talking about me. Bitches.

“Oh, hi.” Jill had Drake on a hip, no surprise. She was always carrying him.

“Did he have a good day?” I asked, hurrying to collect his things.

“Yes, he was perfect.” She kissed his cheek. “Weren’t you? You’re always perfect. But he didn’t take an afternoon nap. So we just cuddled.”

Meaning she hadn’t laid him down so that he could take his afternoon nap. Meaning I’d have to put him to bed early and miss my time with him. My molars began their daily grind as I went to take him from her arms. “Hi, baby.”

He saw my outstretched hands and instantly began to fuss.

I am so fucking sick of this. What the hell? Did she feed him sugar and tell him I was the devil all day? He’d be fine in ten minutes, but it was like she brainwashed my baby every day.

“It’s okay.” Jill bounced him. But she didn’t hand him over. “Just one itty bitty sleep and then you’ll be back. I’ll see you in no time at all.”

I forced a smile and took him out of her hands. After a quick kiss on his cheek, erasing the one she’d left, I put him straight into his car seat. Then the crying started.

He just hated his car seat. That was part of the reason for the daily theatrics, right? Maybe that drive from New York had turned him against this seat for life.

“Oh, Drakey,” Jill crooned. “I know. I don’t like it either.”

I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.

The moment he was clicked into the harness, I left the nursery, not bothering with a goodbye.

Drake cried the entire walk to the door, and when we stepped outside into the snow, he just got angrier. Tears flooded my eyes as I hustled him into the Volvo. Then I was behind the wheel, reversing away.

One block away, I glanced in the rearview to see Knox’s truck close behind. In the disaster that was daily daycare pickup, I’d forgotten he’d been following me home. But as the roads turned icy and the blizzard seemed to intensify on the highway, I was glad to have his headlights each time I looked in my mirrors.

The wind rattled the car’s windows. The noise did little to improve Drake’s mood and he continued to cry. When I finally reached the turnout to Juniper Hill, I breathed. Almost home.

Except it wasn’t my home, was it? It was Knox’s home.

I’d come all this way to start a new life. I’d moved across the country. And just over two months later, I was living under a roof I did not own. To steal Jill’s words, I was shacked up.

What happened if Knox decided we were too much of a burden? That he wanted his single, easy life back?

Every doubt, every insecurity, plagued me on the drive home. Every day. My nerves shook like the trees in the wind as I drove down the gravel road. The house came into view and I hit the button for the garage, easing inside. I had Drake out and the handle of his seat over my arm as Knox parked in his own space.

“What’s wrong with Drake?” he asked, stepping out of his truck.

“Nothing.” I waved it off.

He knew it was a lie, but he stayed quiet, leading the way to his house and closing the door when we were all inside. “We’re adding on to the house.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t like having to haul him through the snow to get inside.” He bent and unbuckled Drake, lifting him out. Only when he was in Knox’s arms did the crying stop.

Of course he stopped crying. He was with his second-favorite person.

I was a reluctant third.

“Memphis.”

“Knox.” I walked past him, taking the car seat and Drake’s daycare bag to the guest bedroom.

My solitude was short lived. Knox’s footsteps came into the room. “You walked out of that daycare on the verge of tears.”

“Yeah, well . . .” I set the bag down and pulled out the dirty bottles. Heaven forbid Jill actually rinse them out for me. “That’s normal.”

“Why is that normal?”

“Because Jill, my daycare lady, loves Drake.” I threw up my hands. “She loves him. She spoils him. And any other mother would just be happy that her baby is loved and spoiled, but it hurts me. It hurts me that he’d rather stay with her than come home with me. And it hurts me that we don’t really have a home to come home to. This is your home. I have no home. And my only family member is a little boy who—”

“Loves you.” Knox stepped forward and handed me Drake, squashing the rest of my rambling outburst. Then he wrapped his arms around us both. “He loves you. Because you’re a good mother.”

I looked at my son, who’d stopped crying and was busy fisting a handful of my hair. His brown eyes were so big and expressive. His face so tiny and perfect. “He is my entire world. I just wanted to be his.”

“You are, honey.”

I met Knox’s blue gaze. “Am I?”

“Would I lie to you?”

No. The frustration seeped from my bones. “What happened to me? I used to be so confident. Now I question everything. I doubt myself constantly. And I hate it.”

“Hey.” He pulled me close and I burrowed into his chest, dragging in his spicy scent. His arms and that smell had been the only reasons I’d slept this week. He’d held me every night, our limbs twined, our bodies naked, until I’d shut down the fears and uncertainty to rest.

“Why do you want me?” I whispered. “I’m a mess.”

“Come with me.” He let me go and clasped my hand, leading us to the kitchen. Then he dragged a stool out from the island and patted the seat. “Hold Drake.”

I took my son and propped him on a knee, bouncing him gently.

On the weekends, it was easier to put him down. To let him chill on his play mat. Weekdays, after he’d spent eight or nine hours in Jill’s arms, it was harder for me to let go. So I held him and we both watched Knox round the island and pull food from the fridge and pantry.

He opened a package of bacon and set it in a frying pan, the fat melting and popping as it splattered. He took out a container of flour, dumping a scoop directly onto the counter. Then he made a well, cracking three eggs into the white powder before sprinkling it all with salt.

He worked the flour and eggs into a dough, his fingers messy as he kneaded it from a sticky mess to this perfect, smooth ball. Then he went to work with a knife, chopping the crispy bacon and then parsley before grating cheese.

He kept on working until he had filled two bowls with pasta carbonara, and when he set mine in front of me, he simply kissed my temple and handed me a fork.

Drake began to squirm halfway through dinner so I excused myself and escaped to the bathroom to give him a long bath. Then I sat with him on the guest bed and fed him his bottle. He fell asleep almost instantly.

Knox was exactly where I’d left him, seated at the island, scrolling through his phone. Surrounded by a mess. When he heard me, the phone was put aside. “He asleep?”

“Yeah.” I reached for my bowl but he took it from my hands, putting it exactly where it had been.

When he stood, his face was unreadable, his expression closed. “Did you like dinner?”

“It was amazing.” Everything he made was amazing.

“Good. Now look around.”

The kitchen was a disaster. He had grease splatters on his shirt, and flour dusted his jeans. The counters and stove would need a thorough scrubbing. The floors would need to be mopped and the dishwasher run.

“The craziest days in the kitchen end with food on every surface. Those are the days when I walk out the door so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open on the drive home. Passion comes from the mess, Memphis.” He threaded his hands into my hair. “So does everything lasting.”

My frame sagged. “You deserve—”

“You.”

“I was going to say better.”

“No. I deserve you. Because I want you. And damn it, I earned you. All the shit I went through. The hell you endured. Who fucking cares if it’s messy?” He flicked a wrist around the room. “It’s exactly the way it should be.”

“But—”

“Goddamn it, Memphis. Stop arguing with me.” In a flash he picked me up and set me on the island. A fork went sailing, clattering to the floor. Then he stepped in between my legs, holding my gaze, our noses touching. “Let me make this clear. You are mine. Drake is mine. For all of your todays and each of your tomorrows. Mine. Do you not want me?”

“Of course I want you.”

“Then fucking kiss me.”

I put my hands to his face but as he leaned in, I pushed him back. Because I had something to say too. “I’m scared.”

“No shit.”

I rolled my eyes. “I go a little crazy.”

“So what?” He leaned in again, this time more insistent. “Go crazy. Be scared. You won’t chase me away.”

There was a dare in his voice. Like he knew I wanted to doubt him so he dared me to try. He dared me to push because he wouldn’t walk away.

“You’re mine too,” I whispered.

“I know.” He leaned in and this time I let him capture my lips. He stroked his tongue across my lower lip and when I opened for him, he delved inside, not hesitating for a moment as he swept me into his arms and carried me down the hallway to the bedroom.

The jeans and long-sleeved tee I’d worn were stripped off instantly, leaving me in nothing but a black bra and panties. I freed the button on his jeans as he reached behind his neck and yanked his shirt over his head.

My hands roamed over the strong muscles of his chest, falling to the rippled stomach and the cut lines around his hips. Beyond the windows, the snowstorm raged. Here, us, together, we were ablaze.

Knox banded an arm around my back as his tongue and lips devoured me, never breaking free as he kept me pinned against his warm skin. With his other hand, he delved beneath my panties, his long fingers finding my center.

He stroked through my wet folds, torturing me with his touch.

I gasped against his mouth as I began to tremble. He toyed with me, plunging a finger inside as he rubbed my clit. My hips rocked against his hand, matching his rhythm.

“Knox,” I whimpered.

“Come on my fingers. Then you can have my cock.” He dipped his lips to my neck, latched on and sucked as he pumped his fingers in and out, stroking my inner walls until I was panting.

I lifted a leg, hooking it around his hip, as my arms looped around his neck and I held on, riding his hand as he finger fucked me. Stars exploded behind my vision and I came on a cry, a burst of pleasure so pure I couldn’t do anything but feel.

“Fuck, but that is hot.” He nibbled on my earlobe as the aftershocks rang through my limbs. Then he unwrapped me from his body and laid me on the bed, stripping off my panties and bra.

He popped his finger into his mouth, humming at my taste, then he pushed my legs apart so I was spread wide. “Don’t move.”

I nodded, lifting my hands to my pebbled nipples and giving them a tug.

“Again.” Knox stood at the end of the bed and watched.

I pulled at my nipples, loving the flare in his eyes. “Like this?”

“Again.”

I smiled and kept toying with them as he stepped out of his jeans, his thick arousal bobbing free.

He wrapped his fist around the velvet shaft, stroking it over and over as he watched me play. A bead of come formed at his crown and I licked my lips. “You want your mouth on me, Memphis?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Later. Tonight, I’m going to come on your pretty tits.”

My breath hitched again.

“Touch your clit.”

I let go of one breast, dropping it to the hardened nub between my legs. The second I touched myself, my back arched off the bed.

“Don’t close your legs,” Knox ordered.

I kept them wide as he settled between them, kneeling above me.

His hand on his shaft never stopped working as he pumped. The other hand swatted my fingers away from my center. “Touch your nipples.”

I obeyed. Instantly. In the bedroom. In life. Whatever pleasure I brought him, he’d give it back ten times over.

His hand found my clit again, and he matched the rhythm of his strokes on us both, working me up until I could barely breathe.

“That’s it, honey. Come again.”

I detonated, my eyes squeezing shut as the orgasm racked through my body.

Knox groaned and did exactly as promised. He came on my belly and my breasts. I watched as ecstasy washed over his handsome face. As his Adam’s apple bobbed with his release. As he came undone. For me.

A shiver rolled over his shoulders as he opened his eyes. Then he gave me a sexy, devilish smirk. “Now you’re a mess.”

His mess.

In that mess, there was passion.

In that passion, we were perfect.