Juniper Hill (The Edens, #2)

by Devney Perry

“What’s wrong?” I crossed the driveway, moving right into her space and taking the handle of the car seat.

“Nothing.” She waved it off and sniffled. “Just a Monday.”

I didn’t like to see Drake cry. But Memphis? It was like getting the wind knocked out of me.

“What happened, honey?”

“This bad day. Did it rank in your top five?”

She closed her eyes and peppered Drake’s forehead with kisses. His fussing stopped almost immediately.

How could she not see how much she settled him?

Yeah, maybe they struggled at one in the morning. But that kid needed he...

Those two were destined to b...

“I usually park beside your truck.”

Because that little boy was staring at his mother like she’d hung the moon and stars. He chugged his bottle, resting in her arms without a care in the world.

“Are you saying I’m moody?”

“Look in the mirror and you’ll get your answer.”

She smiled and went off exploring, taking Drake with her.

I wanted was to wrap those blond waves around my fist while I took her mouth.

“Nah. No one comes out here. I did have a deer check me out this summer.”

“A bar and the local hangout. It’ll be loud.”

I didn’t like having people in my kitchen. Even Mom and Lyla knew not to intrude when they came over. For Memphis, I’d make an exception.

I was leaning down, ready to take that mouth and make it mine,

Memphis and Drake had brought life to my home. Laughter and noise that I hadn’t even realized I’d wanted.

I hated giving cooking lessons. It was my own personal brand of torture. But for the chance to have Memphis here, just a little while longer, I’d endure.

Every day it seemed harder and harder to pick him up from daycare.

She seemed more reluctant to let him go. And he was fussier to be swept away.

The way she said your mom grated on my nerves. Like I was an intruder here, not his parent.

Apparently my homemade lamb outfit hadn’t been good enough.

When I’d arrived five minutes ago, I’d found Drake in a pumpkin suit, complete with a green hat.

Jill had bought it herself, just for him. The other three babies in the nursery didn’t have special costumes, but Drake was her favorite and sh...

I could go back to New York and live off someone else’s money. I could be a stay-at-home mom until Drake went to kindergarten.

“You’re a cuter lamb than you are a pumpkin.”

He’d shed his chef’s coat and was in a long-sleeved thermal, the sleeves pushed up his sinewed forearms.

“All decked out, huh, boss?” Knox raised a hand to touch Drake’s nose,

Knox grabbed a handful of bars, grinned and nodded for me to follow.

Not even the McDonald’s dollar menu was in my budget.

“I tweaked my barbeque sauce recipe. Give me your honest opinion and we’ll call it square.”

I flinched and stared at Drake. Three of the cotton balls I’d glued onto his hat were coming apart.

How had I not seen this? How could I be so blind? The Edens were a wealthy and well-known family.

All I had to do was sacrifice . . . me. All I had to do was give up.

The sound of knuckles tapping on my door cut through my hysterics. My face whipped to the window, and there he stood.

The second I flipped the lock, he marched inside, stomping off his boots. And then he looked down at me with a scowl, like my tears just pissed him off.

“If you want to pay more rent, fine. Pay more rent.”

“Is that what you think? That I cook for you because you can’t cook for yourself?”

“I cook for you because it’s how I show someone I care. I cook for you because I love the look on your face after that first bite. I cook for you because I’d rather cook for you than anyone else.” “What?” My jaw dropped. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing with you, woman.” My mouth was still open. Which suited Knox just fine. Because he raised his hands, framed my face. Then sealed his lips over mine.

but because Dad had busted us making out in the closet and the next day he’d made me stack hay bales for eight hours.

And then Gianna. I remembered the kiss I’d given her before leaving San Francisco. The last kiss.

the years since I’d moved home to Quincy, I kept sex casual. I hooked up with tourists—uncomplicated nights, because come morning, they’d...

No, not mine. It was hers. That loft would always belong to Memphis, even after she left.

Memphis and I had a long conversation in our future, mostly about how she thought she was a charity case.

That was how we were raised. We watched out for each other.

The snow on Mom’s Cadillac was already melting under the bright morning sun.

“I’m cutting down that apple tree.”