Juniper Hill (The Edens)

It was strange to stand in the kitchen at Knuckles and be nervous. Not even on opening night had I felt this rattled. My fingers kept skimming the prep table, so I shoved them into my jeans pockets before I smeared my prints everywhere.

I scanned every surface of the room, from the gleaming counters to the polished stoves to the shelves of white dishes that glinted beneath the room’s lights.

The scent of bleach clung to the air. It hadn’t bothered me while I’d been cleaning but now . . . this kitchen should smell like food. Like vanilla and flour and cinnamon.

“Cookies.” I sprang into action, swiping a mixing bowl from its shelf. Then I began hauling out supplies from the pantry. I was just cracking a couple of eggs into my mixture of sugar and butter when the swinging door opened.

Memphis walked in with Drake on her hip. Her smile dropped as she saw the mess on the prep table, then her eyes softened. “You’re nervous.”

“I’m nervous,” I admitted, my shoulders falling. And now, instead of a clean kitchen, I had a half-started batch of cookie dough. “I’d better clean this up.”

“No, don’t.” She walked over and stood on her toes, tugging at my coat so I’d bend and give her a kiss. “Make whatever it is you’re making.”

“Snickerdoodles.”

“Perfect.”

I dropped my forehead to hers. No one else in the world would tell me to keep cooking. They’d look at the clock on the wall, see it was after five and realize the photographer was due here any minute, then they’d help me sweep it all away.

But not Memphis. She knew what I needed. A task. The slight disarray that made this kitchen my sanctuary. And her. I needed her.

For the first time in months, the restaurant was closed. Mondays were typically slow and I’d wanted to give the staff a day off to rest before the crazed Christmas schedule hit. That, and I’d wanted the day to clean without guests getting in the way.

Two weeks ago, right after Thanksgiving, I’d gotten an email from Lester Novak’s magazine asking when we could work in a photo shoot. I wasn’t sure if they’d want photos of the restaurant and the kitchen, so I’d made sure both were available and pristine.

Memphis and I had driven in together this morning. She’d offered to go home and give me space, but I wanted her here for this tonight. I wanted them both here.

Drake kicked and smiled, leaning my way.

I took him from her arms. “Hey, boss. How was daycare?”

“Great.” Memphis’s lip curled. “He was an angel, according to Jill.”

I chuckled. “Ignore her.”

“I know.” She sighed. “And I know this is just my insecurities showing. But I don’t like her.”

“You don’t have to. We could take my mom up on her offer.”

After Thanksgiving, my family had pulled Memphis into the fold. They loved her. They knew I loved her, even if I hadn’t said the words.

Mom didn’t like the idea of her grandchildren in daycare, so she watched Hudson most days while Winn was at the police station and Griffin was working on the ranch. She’d offered to take Drake too.

“That’s a lot to put on her,” Memphis said. “I don’t want to take advantage.”

“It’s not taking advantage if she wants to do it.” And Mom wanted to do it. She’d asked me five times in the past two weeks. It would be a longer drive for Memphis to take Drake out to the ranch each day, but we’d no longer be boxed in by pick-up and drop-off hours.

And secretly, I wanted her to do it. I wasn’t going to push, it was Memphis’s decision, but I wanted her to spend more time with my family. Because the more she was with them, the more she’d realize they were hers too.

“But two babies?” Memphis asked.

“She had six of her own. And Dad’s around to help.”

“I don’t know.” She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t want to upset Winn and Griffin because I added Drake to the mix.”

“Trust me. They don’t care.” They wanted Drake and Hudson to be buddies too.

Memphis tapped her chin. “Do you think she’d let me pay her?”

I scoffed. “Definitely not.”

“See? That feels like I’m taking advantage.”

“Tell you what . . . if you catch Jill gossiping again or she does something to piss you off once more, we tell her to fuck off. Deal?”

“Deal.”

I was guessing it would take approximately a week before Jill was history. Memphis had told me about walking into the center and hearing Jill’s comments to her coworker. It hadn’t surprised me. Small-town gossip in Quincy was as frequent as sunny days. And I’d been single for a long damn time. There hadn’t been a woman I’d wanted to date and it was known that I only hooked up with tourists who knew it would end after a night.

Until Memphis.

She’d blown into town and there would be no other women.

“Any calls today?” I asked.

“No. Nothing.” She worried her lip between her teeth.

It was driving her crazy that she hadn’t heard anything from her parents since before Thanksgiving. The assholes hadn’t bothered giving her an update, but I didn’t want her reaching out to them either. Not until they showed with a goddamn apology.

At this point, I was taking no news as a sign that Victor had paid whatever to whoever had blackmailed him. If they all disappeared, I wouldn’t be brokenhearted.

Memphis deserved a hell of a lot better for her family.

Luckily, I had the best one around.

“I was thinking about my sister today while I was driving to get Drake,” she said. “We used to go shopping together before every Christmas. It was the one thing we always did and enjoyed.”

“Spending money,” I teased.

“Yes.” She giggled. “She hasn’t spoken to me in months. I didn’t even realize how damaged our family was because we were all so good at keeping up appearances.”

“I’m sorry.” I pulled her into my side, kissing her hair.

“I’m not.” She touched Drake’s shoe. “He deserves better.”

“You both do.”

She smiled. “You’d better get going on these cookies.”

“Shit.” I laughed and gave her the baby. Then I worked with fury, mixing the dough and rolling it into balls while the oven preheated.

Memphis helped me clean up in a flash and as I stowed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, the door opened and Mateo poked his head inside. “Your lady is here.”

“Would you mind bringing her back?” My heart hammered as I spoke.

“Sure. Smells good in here. Did you make cookies?”

Memphis laughed.

“Yes. And you can eat them all.” My stomach was in a knot. “It’s just a few pictures but . . . damn. I wasn’t this nervous when Lester was coming to eat. What is wrong with me?”

“This article is a huge deal.” Memphis walked over, handing me Drake. Then she reached up to fix my hair. “When I worked in the city, I oversaw a lot of photo shoots. Everyone would get nervous. It’s normal.”

“Did you just make that up so I’d feel better?”

“Nope.”

“Stay. Don’t go anywhere, okay? I want you to be here.”

“Then we’ll stay.”

The door opened as I brushed my lips against hers. I broke away and looked up, ready to greet the photographer. Except the woman walking in behind Mateo was no stranger.

“Gianna?”

Memphis tensed.

What the hell was Gianna doing in Quincy? In my kitchen?

“Hey, Knox.” Gianna’s gaze held mine for a moment, then strayed to Memphis and Drake. She swallowed hard and forced a smile. “Good to see you.”

“You’re Gianna?” Mateo had rolled a large case in for her. He set it on its wheels, then crossed his arms over his chest. He looked to me and I gave him a slight headshake before he decided to toss her into a snowbank for breaking my heart years ago.

Gianna stepped out of the way as Mateo frowned and strode from the kitchen. Then she looked up and tucked a lock of her sleek black hair behind an ear.

“I didn’t realize you were the photographer,” I said. The magazine had simply said they were sending their photographer. I hadn’t asked for a name. Not in a million years would I have expected Gianna to step into my kitchen.

“I, um . . . I started with the magazine a couple of years ago.” So she’d known exactly where she was headed. She’d chosen to come here. Why?

The oven’s timer dinged and Memphis reached for Drake. “I’m going to give you a minute.”

“You don’t—”

“We’ll be back.” Before I could protest, she had Drake in her arms and was out the door.

Shit. I rubbed my beard, then took the cookies from the oven, setting them aside before facing Gianna again. “Why’d you come here, Gi?”

“It’s been a long time.”

I nodded. “It has.”

“I tried calling you a few times.”

“Yeah.” And I hadn’t answered.

“When I saw your name for this assignment, I thought . . .” She glanced at the door where Memphis had disappeared. “You look good. Happy.”

“I am happy.”

“That’s great. Really great.” She burst into action, shrugging the camera case off her shoulder. She unzipped it and pulled out the camera she’d always carried with her everywhere. “I saw a few places in the dining area that might be great. And this space too. I’d like to get some different angles and shots. Maybe even have you make something.”

“All right.” I watched as she inspected the kitchen, avoiding eye contact.

Gianna. For years, I’d wondered what I’d say if I saw her again. If my reaction would be full of anger or resentment. But as I stared at her, I was just . . . relieved. Life had been rocky for a while, but I ended up exactly where I’d needed to be—home in Quincy, waiting for Memphis.

“Let’s start in the dining space. Then we can move in here.” She lifted the handle of the case, carting it through the doors.

I followed, glancing around, hoping to find Memphis. But the space was empty.

Gianna set her camera on a table and bent to open the large case, lifting out a tripod. The lights came next, followed by extension cords and umbrellas. She moved with purpose, staging her equipment around a square table. It was the exact table where Lester had sat his second night in the restaurant.

“How is Jadon?” I asked.

“He’s good.” Gianna tugged her phone from her jeans pocket and opened it before handing it over. “It’s full of pictures. You can swipe through.”

I got stuck on the first one and my heart squeezed.

This was the baby I’d loved before he’d been born. This was the son I’d had for only weeks. The boy who would grow up and look like his real father.

Jadon’s hair was a shade lighter than Gianna’s. His eyes were green. They sparkled as he gave a toothy grin to the camera. Gianna didn’t have green eyes. She had brown eyes.

Maybe Gianna had seen it early on. Maybe that’s why she’d finally admitted the truth. Because as I stared at his picture, I knew the truth would have eventually come out.

Jadon had never been mine.

But Drake . . .

He wouldn’t resemble me either. He didn’t have my blood. He’d never share my DNA. And I didn’t give a damn. Drake was mine in a way Jadon never had been.

I set the phone down on the table. “He’s cute as ever. Growing fast.”

“Too fast.” She glanced toward the main doors, curiosity written on her face, but she didn’t ask about Memphis or Drake. “The restaurant is lovely. It’s very . . . you.”

“It’s been an adventure. But it’s nice to be home. Be close to family.”

“That’s great.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Why’d you really come?”

She dropped her gaze, unable to look at me as she spoke. “I think about you. About us. About what we might have been if I hadn’t messed it all up.”

“Why did you? Why did you keep the truth from me for so long?” It was the question I hadn’t asked before I’d left San Francisco. There’d been too much raw pain and I hadn’t wanted her excuses. Her explanations.

Gianna’s eyes were glassy when she finally faced me. “I was afraid you’d leave.”

“I wouldn’t have. Not if you had told me from the start.”

“Then maybe because I didn’t want to give up the fantasy. I wanted to pretend and the longer I pretended, the harder it was to admit the truth.”

“So you came here to . . . what?”

“To apologize.” She gave me a sad smile. “I am sorry. So, so sorry.”

“You told me before I left.”

“It still rings true.” She lifted a shoulder. “And I just thought maybe we could talk. Eat dinner together. Drink our favorite red wine. Catch up. When your name came up, I volunteered for this assignment. I thought it might be . . . It doesn’t matter what I thought.”

No, it didn’t. There would be no second chances. I didn’t want one.

“I’ll plug in the extension cord.” I swiped up the end and dragged it to the nearest wall, fitting it in the outlet. When I returned to the staged area, Gianna had her camera in hand and clicked the button, the shutter snapping as she tested the light.

After a few adjustments, she had me sit at the table, relaxed and casual in the chair. Then she had me stand and balance a fork on my index finger. She took a few shots where I stared at the camera. Some where I looked to the wall.

“I think that’s enough for in here,” she said. “Let’s head to the kitchen next.”

“Want some help moving equipment?” I asked.

“No, that’s okay. I’ve got it.”

“Then I’ll be right back.” I walked past her and out the doors to the lobby, searching the space for Memphis. But except for Mateo, it was empty.

“She ran to Lyla’s for a coffee.” Mateo pointed to the large windows that overlooked the street.

When I’d asked this morning, Memphis had told me to wear my normal jeans and a black thermal. One step outside, I wished I had grabbed a coat. The cold was like a blast sinking to my core.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to walk far. Ten steps in the direction of Eden Coffee and Memphis came down the sidewalk. Drake was bundled in his parka, the red puffy coat nearly the same shade as the tip of his nose.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “Where’s your coat?”

“Inside.” I took her elbow and we retreated to the hotel. But instead of returning to Knuckles, I pulled her straight for the fireplace to warm up.

“Are you done?” She looked past my shoulder, probably for Gianna.

“Not yet. We’ve got some shots to do in the kitchen.”

“Oh.” She sighed. “So that’s . . . her.”

“It is.”

“She’s beautiful.”

I nodded. “She isn’t you.”

“Knox.” Her shoulders fell. “If you need time to talk, I can just go home. Stay in the loft tonight.”

“Memphis.” I hooked my finger beneath her chin, making sure she was locked on me as I repeated my sentence. “She isn’t you.”

She fell into me, her forehead crashing into my sternum. “I didn’t know if maybe you still wanted—”

“You.” I kissed her hair. “Only you.”

Memphis was honest about her doubts. With Drake. With me. She told me how much she missed her confidence, but it was there. It had always been there. A woman without a backbone of steel wouldn’t have moved across the country. She wouldn’t have hit the reset button on her life.

One of these days, she’d realize it too.

Until then, I’d cover the gap.

Drake whimpered and squirmed. He wasn’t a fan of the puffy coat.

“And you, boss. I want you too.” I slid the zipper down on the parka and set him free. Then I put my hand on the small of Memphis’s back and steered her to Knuckles.

Gianna was taking her test shots when we walked into the kitchen. Her eyes traveled to me, then Drake, then our interlocked hands before she finally looked at Memphis. “Hi, I’m Gianna.”

“Memphis.” Spoken with a look as cold as the current temperature. My girl was not a fan and she wasn’t going to fake it.

I fought a smile.

Gianna squirmed.

“We’ll go hang in the office,” Memphis said.

“No, stay.” I rounded the prep table, standing in front of the lights that Gianna had staged. “Ready?”

“Yes. Shift to your left a bit.” Gianna took twice as many shots in the kitchen as she had in the dining room. She didn’t try to make small talk or drum up a conversation. The only words she said were orders for me to change positions.

Twenty minutes in, she checked the view screen on the camera. “I’m not crazy about these. The kitchen is too . . .”

“Clean,” Memphis answered for her, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Yes.” Gianna nodded. “It needs a mess.”

I grinned at Memphis. “How about dinner? Mac ’n’ cheese?”

“Have I ever said no to your mac ’n’ cheese?”

I winked and got to work.

As I went about boiling water and hauling ingredients from the walk-in, Gianna blended into the background. Her camera’s shutter clicked in a steady stream as I made my woman her favorite meal.

“I think I’ve got it,” Gianna said as I dished Memphis a bowl.

“Want to stick around and eat?” I asked.

“No, I think I’ll head out. The magazine is usually pretty good about sending you the final shot selections before they publish. But if you want any for yourself, my email is still the same.”

“Great. Before you go, would you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

She had her faults, but photography wasn’t one. Gianna had a talent behind the lens.

I walked to where Memphis was sitting, watching, and picked up Drake. Then I took her hand and pulled her to the prep table, putting my arm around her. “Would you take one of the three of us?”

Memphis’s hands went straight for her hair, fixing it around her face. “I’m not very pretty for pictures.”

“You’re always pretty, honey.”

Gianna studied us for a long moment, then lifted her camera. It clicked a few times, and as she checked the photos, an understanding came over her face.

She saw it. She saw the way I loved Memphis. “I’ll get this one to you.”

“Appreciate it.”

Gianna tore down her setup in minutes, loading it into her case. Then she hauled it to the door, stopping before leaving the kitchen. “It was nice to meet you, Memphis.”

“Have a safe trip home.”

Gianna gave me a sad smile. “Goodbye, Knox.”

“Bye, Gi.”

She disappeared, returning to her world. While I sat down beside mine.

And ate dinner.