Juniper Hill (The Edens, #2)

by Devney Perry

hadn’t been the kid’s crying that had woken me up.

It had been a pair of headlights. By the time I’d shoved out of bed and blinked the sleep of fog away, I’d only caught the glow of taillights down the road.

But every now and then, someone would take a wrong turn. Or high school kids would think they’d stumbled on a deserted road where they could park and go at it ...

“Don’t worry about the window. Leave it open at night if that helps.”

That tiny cry was like a dagger to my heart. It was the sound of a dream lost. The sound of a family gone.

I rolled out of bed and slammed the window closed. Then I snagged my pillow, carrying it to the other side of the house. Where I slept on the couch.

The microwave in the break room dinged. With my fork between my lips, I carried the steaming container to the round table in the corner.

I stirred the yellow noodles before blowing on a bite. I had the fork raised to my lips when a large body filled the doorframe.

“What is that?” Kn...

“Macaroni and cheese.”

he’d trimmed his beard, shaping it to the chiseled contours of his jaw. The sleeves of his chef’s coat were pushed up his forearms like he always seemed to do, and even though it was a fairly shapeless garment, it molded to his biceps and broad shoulders.

“What kind of macaroni and cheese?” he asked. Was that a trick question?

Knox tossed a hand in my direction.

“I came in to inventory the coffee supply. She’s eating macaroni and cheese.”

“What’s wrong with the blue box kind?”

He frowned and swiped up my plastic container, walking it to the garbage can in the corner. One tap on the side and my noodles went plopping to the bottom of the black liner.

Don’t call him an asshole. Don’t call him an asshole.

“No blue box mac ’n’ cheese.”

I’m hungry.”

The style fit Knox. Modern and moody and masculine. Exposed brick. Deep wall color. Rich wood tones. Cognac leather booths.

Old Memphis was dead. I’d killed that version of myself. I’d stabbed her to death with the shards of a broken heart.

“Did you bring me here to torture me?” I asked.

Skip slid a plate and napkin in front of me, then winked.

His hair was long enough to curl at the nape of his neck.

knew what those curls looked like dripping wet.

Knox was more tempting than any meal. More dangerous than the knife in his grasp.

“This is really good.” “I know.” He arched an eyebrow.

“No more blue box.” “I bought a ten-pack.” “Ditch it. I always keep the ingredients on hand if you want some.”

“I wanted a small town. A safe place to raise Drake. I was thinking California. An influencer I follow on Instagram was raving about these small towns up and down the coast. But they were too expensive.”

“Cleo.” “Cleo. Yes, that was the baker’s name. You know her?”

“She invaded my kitchen on her vacation here that Christmas. I’ve never seen anyone make so much food in a few hours. We’ve kept in touch. I actually just sent her some recipes a few weeks ago. Including that one.”

But that confession was mine and mine alone.

“We’ve got lots to talk about at night, don’t we, cowboy? And sometimes you just need a new set of arms.”

I loved Hudson. But his birth had triggered memories I’d done my best to forget these past five years. Memories that weren’t as buried as I’d once thought.

Griffin hadn’t known Gianna, nor had any of my siblings.

Mom and Dad had met her once on a vacation to San Francisco, but that ...

My family knew what had happened, but it was something I’d refused to discus...

think because it’s deeper. This time of night, Griff’s voice is about the only thing that will put him to sleep.”

Memphis was dealing with it alone. She bore the brunt of his screams. She carried the weight on her slender shoulders.

I’d had enough dramatics for a lifetime and Memphis had drama written all over her pretty face.

I’d walked away from San Francisco a broken man. I’d come home to recover. To start again. To return to a place where I’d had good days in the hope of finding them again.

They let us fail when we needed to fail. They gave us a hand when it was clear we couldn’t get back up on our own two feet. They loved us unconditionally. They’d given us every advantage possible.

But if I said yes to the hotel, it wouldn’t be for me. It would be for them.

It was a newer model and Volvos weren’t exactly inexpensive. So why was she surviving on cheap meals and spare change? Not my business.

Drake had a set of lungs, and though I should just sleep with the windows closed, every night, I got too hot and had slept with them cracked for as long as I could remember.

That kid was determined, I’d give him that.

Then another baby, another set of arms from years past. A scene I didn’t let myself remember.

“I’m so⁠—”

“Don’t apologize.” I stepped inside and kicked off my shoes, then held out my arms, waving with one.

“Hand him over.” “W-what?” She shied away, putting a shoulder bet...