Page 75 of Juniper Hill (The Edens 2)

“What the hell?” I hustled to get my boots on.

By the time I opened the door, Memphis had come down the stairs to stand in front of the man, her shoulders stiff. Her expression was blank and as cold as the November morning. Her eyes narrowed. Her lips pursed.

The SUV’s passenger door opened as I came down the sidewalk and a woman dressed in an ice-blue pantsuit stepped out. Her heels teetered on the gravel as she walked to stand at the man’s side.

It was only when she looked over her shoulder—not at me, but at Drake—and pulled the sunglasses off her face did I recognize the resemblance. The brown eyes. The blond hair. The pretty nose and lovely chin.

Her mother.

My free hand balled into a fist.

“You’re unwelcome here.” Memphis’s voice carried strong and clear.

Damn straight they were unwelcome.

“Unwelcome?” The man I assumed was her father scoffed. “Enough of this act for attention, Memphis. We are leaving. Today.”

“Safe travels.” Her voice was as flat as her gaze.

I walked past her parents, taking a stance behind Memphis. It wasn’t easy, but I kept my mouth shut as her father looked me up and down with a sneer. When the mother stared at Drake like she was about to snatch him, I spun him away.

“I’ve been calling,” her mother said, her eyes still locked on the baby.

“And I haven’t answered.” Memphis shifted, putting herself in front of Drake.

That was who’d been calling. For months and months. Persistent, wasn’t she?

“Get in the car,” her father barked.

“No.” Memphis’s lip curled. “You have no say in my life. Leave.”

“You call this a life?” He curled his lip and glared at the loft. “You’re living above a garage. You’re cleaning rooms. You’re living on minimum wage.”

“That’s—wait.” Her spine, already stiff, became a rod of steel. “How do you know where I’m living and where I’m working?”

“Do you really think I’d let you just leave?”

Memphis scoffed. “You had me followed.”

Her mother dropped her chin. Her father raised his.

Months ago, right after she’d moved here, I’d seen that flash of headlights on the road one night. I’d thought it was someone who’d been lost. But maybe it had been whoever they’d sent to follow Memphis.

“How long did you have me followed?” Memphis asked.

Her father didn’t so much as blink at her question. It was clear he didn’t deem her worthy of an explanation. “We’re leaving. Get in the car.”

It was Memphis’s turn to blink.

“You signed a noncompete clause,” her father declared.

“Your point?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“You’re working at a hotel.”

“Is that what you’re worried about, Dad? That I’ll share company secrets? I’m a housekeeper. And Quincy, Montana, isn’t exactly the market for a Ward Hotel development.”

“I could take you to court.”