Juniper Hill (The Edens, #2)

by Devney Perry

He’d crossed the gravel driveway w...

I gulped. Either he had really tough feet or he was really pissed. Given the tension in hi...

Please stop. Five minutes. Then you can scream until dawn. Just s...

“Is he sick?” Knox fisted his hands...

“He has c...

There’d be time to fantasize about Knox later, like when Drake was eighteen and headed off to college.

“Does he always cry?” Knox asked.

Knox dropped his gaze to my son and the expression of pain that crossed his face made me want to climb in my car and drive far, far away.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. To Knox. To Drake.

Apartment hunting just got bumped up the to-do list.

“Baby, we need to get this under control. We can’t get kicked out. Not yet.”

Was this karma’s doing, putting me next door to a man so fine? Was this her test to see if I truly had changed?

And I suspected that Knox wasn’t your typical man. He probably would have laughed at an attempt to turn him into my personal toy. I liked that about him.

There’d only be one man in my bed. My little man.

Once, money had been a concept. An afterthought. Now, it was a luxury lost.

I’d traded it for my son.

“Ooo-ooh,” Drake cooed as his car seat clicked into the base.

Twenty dollars was over an hour’s worth of work.

“I’m so getting evicted.”

Any time I seemed to think about New York, my phone would ring.

But Eloise was impossible not to love.

“This might save my life.”

“Ah. That’s why he came in so early. The night clerk said he showed around four. Usually he’s not in until five.”

“For taking a chance on me. And for giving me such a good schedule.”

weekend shift paid more, but without daycare, it wasn’t an option.

Cleaning rooms was honest work.

I hadn’t realized how much my heart had needed something true and real. And part of me loved it simply because I imagined my family cringing at the thought of me in yellow rubber gloves.

Knox’s bearded jaw was clenched again, that frown fixed on his supple lips.

“You’re everywhere, aren’t you?”

“I promise, I’m not trying to bother you.”

“Try ha...

Yep, I was getting evicted. Which meant I couldn’t afford that latte after all. Damn.

Try harder.

It was a dick thing to say. I blamed lack of sleep for my short temper.

The shame on Memphis’s face was punishment for my sharp words. What the hell was my problem? She lived in the loft.

“Damn it.” I owed her an apology.

“Thirty-nine,” she mumbled. Thirty-nine what? Who was calling her? And why didn’t she answer?

That was a damn lie. It was bitter and boring, hence why I went to Lyla’s each morning for espresso.

asking if it was normal for a two-month-old baby to cry so fucking much. She’d replied with yes and an eye-roll emoji.

She’d been digging for change. That was why she hadn’t seen me walk through the door. She’d planned to pay for a coffee with loose change.

Change that I’d knocked out of her hand.

From beyond the rim, she sent me a glare. It was subtle, but fire sparked in those brown eyes.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m trying not to be everywhere.”

Yeah, I’d deserved it. And worse.

“Headache, Knox?” Skip asked.

“Yeah.” Her name was Memphis Ward.

Why couldn’t she have found me a fifty-seven-year-old retiree named Barb who taught swimming lessons at the community center?

Memphis? She was as complicated as duck pâté en croûte. Yet I couldn’t look away.

“Forty.”

“I’m sorry we woke you up last night. I should have left the window closed but it was stuffy.”