Juniper Hill (The Edens, #2)

by Devney Perry

Motherhood, I’d learned in the past two months, was nothing more than a ritual of second-guessing yourself.

Because of them, I would be a better person. Despite them.

“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.

“If it hurts. If it’s petrifying . . .” A crease formed between her eyebrows. “Why did you come to the loft? Why do you keep coming?” I lifted a shoulder. “I can’t seem to stop.” “Do you want to?” I lifted my hand, tucking that stubborn lock of hair away once more. “No.”

Knox was a good man. He was as reliable as the sunrise. As breathtaking as the Montana sunsets. He was the type of person I wanted Drake to become.

“You are . . . you are a dream,” he breathed. “I gave up on those.” My breath hitched. “So did I.”

“Then here’s another truth. I’m going to take them. I’m going to take all of your bests. Every damn one until you can’t keep track of the top five anymore because there are so many bests that you’ll need a hundred to capture them all.”

I’m not the kind of man who gives up what’s good. And we’re good. We’re fucking good, honey.”

“Be careful, Daddy. Your hypocrisy is showing.”

“Let me make this clear. You are mine. Drake is mine. For all of your todays and each of your tomorrows. Mine.

“Because he wakes up before dawn,” Griffin muttered, pulling out a stool. “My boy’s a morning kid.” “Not mine.” Knox pulled out the stool beside his brother. “Mine’s a night owl.”