Juniper Hill (The Edens #2)(4)

But we’d made it. Somehow, we’d made it.

“Let’s go check out our new spot.” I kissed Drake as he squirmed—he had to be hungry—then shifted him to the cradle of my arm. With one hand, I hefted out the next duffel in the stack, but I’d forgotten how heavy it was. The nylon strap slipped from my fingers, the bag plopping to the ground. “Ugh.”

“I’ll get it.” A deep, rugged voice sounded from behind me, then came the crunch of boots on gravel.

I stood, ready to smile and introduce myself, but the second I spotted the man walking my way, my brain scrambled.

Tall. Broad. Tattooed. Gorgeous.

Why had I kept driving last night? Why hadn’t I stopped at a hotel with a shower?

I was in no place to crush on a guy. The new Memphis—mom Memphis—was too busy getting formula stains out of her shirts to preen for men. But the old Memphis—single, rich and always up for an orgasm or two Memphis—really, really liked sexy, bearded men.

He bent and picked up the duffel before grabbing the largest suitcase from the trunk. His biceps strained the sleeves of his gray T-shirt as he carried them both toward the garage. Narrow hips. Sinewed forearms. Long legs covered in faded jeans.

Who was he? Did he live here? Did it matter?

Drake whined and that sound snuffed the laser beam that had been my gaze on this guy’s sculpted ass.

What the hell was wrong with me? Sleep. I needed sleep.

Before anyone could catch me staring, I dropped my chin and rushed after him, pausing long enough to snag the diaper bag from the backseat.

The metal on the stairs gave a low hum with each step. The man had almost made it to the landing when Eloise popped out.

“Good, you’re helping.” She smiled at him, then waved us all inside. “Knox Eden, meet Memphis Ward. Memphis, this is my brother Knox. This is his house.”

Knox set down the bags and jerked up his chin. “Hi.”

“Hi. This is Drake. Thanks for renting us your apartment.”

“I’m sure another spot will open up in town.” He shot Eloise a glare. “Soon.”

The tension rolling through the loft was thicker than traffic on East Thirty-Fourth from FDR Drive to Fifth Avenue.

Winslow studied the honey-colored floors while Eloise narrowed her gaze at her brother.

Meanwhile Knox did nothing to disguise the irritation on his face.

“Is, um . . . is this place not for rent?” It would be on par for my day to arrive somewhere I was unwelcome.

“No, it’s not,” he said as Eloise said, “Yes, it is.”

“I don’t want to cause any trouble.” My stomach churned. “Maybe we should find another place.”

Eloise crossed her arms over her chest, raising her eyebrows as she waited for her brother to speak. She was too pretty to be intimidating, yet I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that look.

“Fine,” Knox grumbled. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Are you sure?” Because it sounded a lot like he was lying. I’d heard my fair share of lies as a New York socialite.

“Yeah. I’ll get the rest of your bags.” Knox breezed past me, the scent of sage and soap filling my nose.

“Sorry.” Eloise put her hands on her cheeks. “Okay, I need to be honest. When you called and said there weren’t any apartments around town, I did some checking too. And you’re right. Nothing is available in your price range.”

I groaned. So she’d pawned me off on her unwilling brother. I was a charity case.

Old Memphis would have refused charity.

Mom Memphis didn’t have that luxury.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not,” Eloise said. “He could have told me no.”

Why did I get the feeling it was hard for people to tell her no? Or that she rarely accepted it as an answer? After all, that was how I’d driven out here.

After an hour-long Zoom interview, I’d fallen in love with the idea of working for Eloise and I hadn’t even seen the hotel premises. She’d smiled and laughed through our conversation. She’d asked about Drake and complimented my résumé.

I’d taken this job not because I aspired to clean rooms, but simply because she was the anti-Father. There was nothing cold, ruthless or cunning about Eloise. My father would hate her.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked.

“Absolutely. Knox just isn’t used to having people out here. But it will be fine. He’ll adjust.”

Was that why he’d built a home full of glass? Out here, he didn’t need the privacy of walls. The location gave him seclusion. And I was intruding.

We didn’t have a lease agreement. As soon as a vacancy in town came open, I doubted Knox would mind losing my rent check.

He came striding up the staircase, the thud from his boots reverberating through the loft. His frame filled the doorway as he walked inside carrying another three bags.

“I can get the rest,” I said as he set them on the floor. “And I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know we’re here.”

Drake chose that moment to let out a screech before nuzzling toward my breast.

Knox’s mouth pursed in a thin line before he retreated down the stairs.

“Can we help you get unpacked?” Winslow asked. “I’d much rather stay here than head back out on patrol and write speeding tickets.”