Page 40 of Juniper Hill (The Edens 2)

I didn’t like to see Drake cry. But Memphis? It was like getting the wind knocked out of me.

“Hey.” I went to her side and fit my hand to her elbow. “What happened, honey?”

“I just . . .” Her shoulders sagged. “I had a bad day.”

Had something happened at the hotel? Was it about her family? Or Drake’s father? There were a hundred unanswered questions when it came to Memphis and her past, but Drake was crying and now wasn’t the time to dig.

So I reached past her for the package of diapers in the trunk, then strode for the door.

“Where are you going?” she called to my back as I walked toward my place, not hers.

“Taking these inside.”

“You’re going the wrong way.”

“Come on.” I kept walking straight for my house, where the scent of floor cleaner and laundry soap clung to the air.

As I made my way to the kitchen with the baby, the door closed behind me. I set the diapers on the island along with Drake’s seat, unbuckling him as Memphis’s footsteps sounded over my shoulder.

“This bad day. Did it rank in your top five?”

She came up beside me, watching as I lifted Drake from his seat. “No.”

“Good.”

Before I could settle Drake on my shoulder, she stole her son from my hands, cradling him in her arms. Then she breathed, a breath so deep and long it was like she’d been underwater for five minutes and was finally breaking through the surface.

She closed her eyes and peppered Drake’s forehead with kisses. His fussing stopped almost immediately.

How could she not see how much she settled him? Yeah, maybe they struggled at one in the morning. But that kid needed her like she needed him. Those two were destined to be together.

Watching them was like intruding on a ritual, a moment that they had each day, coming home and finding peace together.

I gave them a minute, heading to the fridge to uncork a bottle of pinot grigio and pour two glasses.

“You’re busy,” she said. “We won’t interrupt your night.”

I carried over her glass of wine. “Stay for dinner.”

“What are you making?” She hovered at the corner of the island, surveying the pasta and vegetables on the cutting board.

“Dinner.” I smirked. “You’ll find out if you stay.”

She rolled her eyes, a smile toying at the corner of her pretty mouth. But she took the wine and her shoulders began their slow creep away from her ears. “Thank you.”

“Make yourself at home.”

With Drake on her hip, she glanced around the space. “You weren’t at the restaurant today.”

“You noticed?”

She shrugged. “I usually park beside your truck.”

That, or she looked for me. Maybe as often as I looked for her.

I went to the cutting board and began chopping the spinach while she rifled through the diaper bag and took out a bottle with powdered formula in the bottom.

She eased past me for the sink, filling the bottle with water before shaking it up. Then she walked to the living room, taking a seat on the couch to feed Drake.