Juniper Hill (The Edens #2)(36)

Mom came back with a glass pie pan, watching at my side as I worked. Once upon a time, she’d have offered suggestions and tips, but these days, she simply watched. “See? You’re not so bad.”

“Dad wants to talk about the hotel.”

She hummed. “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “It will break Eloise’s heart.”

“Your sister loves that hotel. But she also loves you. Just because you take it over doesn’t mean she can’t when she’s

ready. But she’s not ready, Knox. We all know it. And if she were being honest with herself, Eloise would know it too.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes. Maybe.” She blew out a long breath. “We sheltered her during the lawsuit. That was probably a mistake.”

“No, I think you handled it right. It was hard enough on her as it was.”

Eloise had hired a man in housekeeping last year. He’d started out fine, working part-time. Then one day he’d skipped a shift. Eloise had let it go and covered for him. It had happened three more times before Mom got wind of it.

Dad had come in, met with the employee, and given him a warning. Yet it had happened again, so Dad had canned the guy’s ass. One week later, we were sued for wrongful termination and sexual harassment.

The asshole said Eloise had propositioned him. She’d invited him out with some of the other staff for a drink at Willie’s, trying too hard to be a friend instead of a boss. He’d gone with them, and at the end of the night, she’d hugged him.

My parents were in the right. Eloise should have fired him the first time, but because she’d allowed it, the man’s smarmy lawyer thought he’d get rich suing the Eden family.

Lawsuits were never easy and though they’d come out victorious, it had caused plenty of unwanted stress.

“I’ll think about the hotel,” I told Mom. “But I’m not ready to decide. Not yet.”

“Fair enough.” She nodded and handed me a knife.

I laid the pie plate over the crust, tracing the curve of the dish, then fit the sheet to the bottom while she came over with

a pan of apples coated in cinnamon and sugar.

We worked in silence, making the pie and getting it in the oven, a task we’d done a hundred times because Grandma’s tree was a monster and Mom wasn’t the only one who’d spent summers picking apples.

When it was in the oven, I washed my hands and put my coffee in the microwave to heat up.

“Do you need to get going?” Mom asked. “Or can you stick around to take this pie to Memphis?”

“Memphis? My Memphis?”

She arched her eyebrows. “Your Memphis?”

Shit. “You know what I mean.”

“She’s a beautiful woman, inside and out.”

I blinked. “I didn’t realize you’d spent much time with her.”

“Oh, I just talked to her a few times at the hotel. But I like her.”

I sighed. “I do too.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

The microwave dinged and I took out my coffee, carrying it to the island, where I took one of the stools. “It’s complicated.”

That kiss last night had changed everything.

“Ever since Gi—”

Mom held up a hand, cutting me off. “Do not say her name in this house.”

Mom hated Gianna. Not only for what she’d done to me, but because Mom and Dad had been hurt too.

“It’s the kid,” I confessed. “If it was just Memphis, exploring something would be one thing.”

If it was just Memphis, I would have kissed her weeks ago and never stopped. But the baby . . . that baby changed everything.

Mom gave me a sad smile. “You’re a good man.”

“Am I?” Because I probably shouldn’t have kissed her last night.

“Don’t let what happened in the past cloud the future.”

“I can’t . . .” I closed my eyes, admitting my fears. “I can’t lose another baby.”

Mom took the stool beside mine and placed her hand over mine. “This is not the same situation, Knox.”

“I know.” But it could end just as badly.

I was already attached. To them both.

We sat in silence, sipping coffee and contemplating the past, while the pie baked. Halfway through the oven’s timer, Dad joined us, and as though he could sense the mood, he didn’t bring up the hotel.

“How’s Briggs doing?” I asked, ready for a change of topic.

“Good.” A bit of sadness always filled Dad’s blue eyes when he spoke of his brother. “No episodes this week, thank God.”

We spent the rest of the time talking about Briggs and his latest trip to the doctor. Then the pie was done and Mom took

it from the oven, letting it cool while I had one last cup of coffee.

That pie, packed in a ceramic carrying container, rode shotgun with me to town and when I parked in the lot behind the inn, I took it straight to the break room, found a sticky note in a drawer and scrawled Memphis on top.

My intention was to head into the kitchen and get to work, but when I started down the hallway, my feet carried me to the elevator.

Rather than stop at the lobby, I took a gamble and headed to the second floor. Memphis wasn’t there, but I found her on the third.