Page 77 of Juniper Hill (The Edens 2)

She looked more beaten down than she had on the day she’d arrived.

“They didn’t even ask about Drake.” Her chin quivered. “They’ve never even asked me his name.”

“I’m sorry.” I used my thumb to catch a tear. “I’m so sorry.”

“They are ugly, aren’t they?” Memphis stepped away and walked to Drake, dropping on her knees at his side. Then she held his hand, drawing comfort from his tiny fingers. “We don’t need them, do we?”

No, they did not.

“I forgot his diapers.” Her shoulders fell.

“I’ll go get them.”

“I can.”

“No. You stay.” I was too pissed to stay still and needed the task to calm down before Memphis and I had a conversation.

I marched to the loft, the scent of Memphis’s soap in the air. There was an empty laundry basket on the counter so I swept it up and filled it to the brim. Diapers. Formula. Shampoo. Clothes. If I had to move her into my place one laundry basket at a time, so be it.

When I made it home, Memphis had moved to the living room. Drake was sucking down a bottle and she was curled into the corner of the couch, shrinking into the cushions.

Fuck those people.

“What are their names?” I asked, setting the basket down and taking the seat beside her. “Your parents. What are their names?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“So that when I curse them, either in my head or out loud, I can be precise.”

She gave me a sad smile. “Beatrice and Victor.”

Fuck Beatrice and Victor. “What am I missing, Memphis?” Because there had to be more to this story. Why had she declined her mother’s calls? Why had her mother kept calling? Why had they come to Montana to try and drag her back to New York?

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “But if I had to guess . . . I’d say they found out about Drake’s father.”

“You ready to tell me about that?”

“No,” she whispered. “Not yet.”

“Soon, honey.”

Dread crept into her expression.

A knot formed in my gut.

Another woman with secrets.

I guess I did have a type.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

MEMPHIS

Knox rapped his knuckles on the bathroom door, then walked to me at the counter, setting down a steaming mug of coffee. “Here, honey.”

“Thanks.” I put my brush down and gave him a smile through the mirror. My hair hung in damp strands down my back and the plush white towel I’d cinched around my chest was so big it hit me at the knees.

He dropped a kiss to my bare shoulder and gave me a look that said today wasn’t going to be the relaxing, stress-free Sunday I’d hoped for. Our Saturday hadn’t been a lot of fun either.