Juniper Hill (The Edens #2)(36)

“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.

She was dusting a dresser with a yellow microfiber rag. Her hair was in a ponytail, the ends swishing against her spine. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes narrowed in concentration. She was entirely too attractive to resist.

I rapped my knuckles on the door, then strode into the room, making sure to keep more than an arm’s length between us so that I didn’t kiss her again. Not until this conversation was over.

“If you want to pay more rent, then pay it.”

She blinked, standing straight. “I do.”

“Done.” I nodded. “Like I said last night, I enjoy cooking for you. If you don’t like extras from the restaurant, fine. I won’t bring them over. At home, I usually have plenty of stuff on hand, but if I’m ever short, maybe you could hit the store.”

The corner of her mouth turned up. “Just send me your list.”

“You’re not charity.” I lost the battle with the distance and closed the space between us. “My mom made you a pie. It’s not charity either. She makes pies for people she likes.”

“I like her too.”

“This job is not charity. You’ve earned it. You’ve kept it. You. Got it?”

She nodded.

“Out loud, Memphis.”

“Got it,” she whispered.

My hand lifted to tug at the end of her ponytail. “That kiss was not charity.”

“I didn’t think it was.”

“Good.” I took her hand and pulled her to the edge of the bed, taking a seat. “I’m not one for complicated these days.”

“I get it.” She slipped her hand from mine, dropping her gaze to her lap. “This doesn’t have to be anything. You don’t owe me an explanation. We can forget the kiss ever happened.”

I couldn’t forget it if I tried. “Is that what you want?”

“No.”

“Neither do I.”

Her entire body sagged. “I don’t want to be your mistake.”

Those words held so much pain. So much weight. She’d been someone else’s mistake.

If I had to guess, I’d say it was Drake’s father.

Memphis hadn’t offered that story. Considering she hadn’t told her own family and, to keep her secret, had given up a trust fund, I doubted she’d confide in me.

Not yet. Maybe if I made my own confession, she’d realize she wasn’t the only one with a story.

“When I lived in San Francisco, I was dating a woman. Gianna. We were together for about a year. And during most of that year, she was pregnant.”