Page 103 of Juniper Hill (The Edens 2)

“Not yet. We’ve got some shots to do in the kitchen.”

“Oh.” She sighed. “So that’s . . . her.”

“It is.”

“She’s beautiful.”

I nodded. “She isn’t you.”

“Knox.” Her shoulders fell. “If you need time to talk, I can just go home. Stay in the loft tonight.”

“Memphis.” I hooked my finger beneath her chin, making sure she was locked on me as I repeated my sentence. “She isn’t you.”

She fell into me, her forehead crashing into my sternum. “I didn’t know if maybe you still wanted—”

“You.” I kissed her hair. “Only you.”

Memphis was honest about her doubts. With Drake. With me. She told me how much she missed her confidence, but it was there. It had always been there. A woman without a backbone of steel wouldn’t have moved across the country. She wouldn’t have hit the reset button on her life.

One of these days, she’d realize it too.

Until then, I’d cover the gap.

Drake whimpered and squirmed. He wasn’t a fan of the puffy coat.

“And you, boss. I want you too.” I slid the zipper down on the parka and set him free. Then I put my hand on the small of Memphis’s back and steered her to Knuckles.

Gianna was taking her test shots when we walked into the kitchen. Her eyes traveled to me, then Drake, then our interlocked hands before she finally looked at Memphis. “Hi, I’m Gianna.”

“Memphis.” Spoken with a look as cold as the current temperature. My girl was not a fan and she wasn’t going to fake it.

I fought a smile.

Gianna squirmed.

“We’ll go hang in the office,” Memphis said.

“No, stay.” I rounded the prep table, standing in front of the lights that Gianna had staged. “Ready?”

“Yes. Shift to your left a bit.” Gianna took twice as many shots in the kitchen as she had in the dining room. She didn’t try to make small talk or drum up a conversation. The only words she said were orders for me to change positions.

Twenty minutes in, she checked the view screen on the camera. “I’m not crazy about these. The kitchen is too . . .”

“Clean,” Memphis answered for her, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Yes.” Gianna nodded. “It needs a mess.”

I grinned at Memphis. “How about dinner? Mac ’n’ cheese?”

“Have I ever said no to your mac ’n’ cheese?”

I winked and got to work.

As I went about boiling water and hauling ingredients from the walk-in, Gianna blended into the background. Her camera’s shutter clicked in a steady stream as I made my woman her favorite meal.

“I think I’ve got it,” Gianna said as I dished Memphis a bowl.

“Want to stick around and eat?” I asked.