Page 88 of Juniper Hill (The Edens 2)

Knox and I hadn’t seen each other since I’d left for work this morning. We’d both been swamped with the influx of guests, and today he’d started prep for the Thanksgiving feast he’d be serving on Thursday.

But even though we’d gone the whole day apart, there was comfort in knowing that he was always close by. If I needed him, he was there.

The restaurant’s tables were set, a few already occupied. The kitchen was bustling when I pushed open the swinging door. Skip was at the prep table, mixing a bowl of corn pasta salad. Roxanne was standing beside Knox, reviewing a menu card. Everyone looked my way when I stepped inside.

“I just wanted to say hi.” I waved to the room. “I’m heading out.”

“One minute.” Knox held up a finger. “Don’t leave yet.”

“Okay.” I shifted out of the way so I wouldn’t get bumped if a waitress came through the door.

“How’s it going, Memphis?” Skip asked.

“Busy day. You?”

“Same.” He tapped the handle of his wooden spoon on the side of the bowl, then took it to the dishwasher. Like Knox and Roxanne, he was wearing a white chef’s coat and today he was in a pair of loose cotton pants with a cheetah print.

“New pants, Skip?” Normally he wore jeans. The wild, bold and baggy pants had always been Roxanne’s forte.

“Pretty snazzy, huh.” He did a little two-step shuffle, dancing my way. “Roxanne told me I couldn’t pull off her style.”

“Because he can’t.” She shimmied over in her pink camo pants. The bright color matched the streaks that ran through her blond hair.

Skip scoffed and struck a pose. “Can too.”

The easy banter between the restaurant staff always made me smile. They teased each other. They teased Knox. But beneath the laughter and the jests, there was mutual respect.

Knox praised his staff regularly. He gave them advice and taught them new techniques. And in return, they adored him.

I adored him. More and more each day.

“All good, guys?” Knox asked, unbuttoning his coat.

“Yep.” Skip gave him a mock salute.

Roxanne nodded. “All good. Get out of here.”

“You’re not working tonight?” I asked.

He answered by disappearing to his office, returning a moment later with his Carhartt coat and truck’s keys. “There’s a storm blowing in. I don’t want you driving alone.”

“Okay.”

His protectiveness was second nature. He was a man who took charge. But unlike my dad’s barked orders and inability to compromise, Knox did it with care, not control. Like the way he’d moved us into his house. He hadn’t asked. He’d simply filled my laundry basket, one trip at a time, until all that remained in the loft were my empty suitcases. If I’d balked, he would have taken everything back.

“Hi.” He stopped beside me and dropped a kiss to my forehead. “How was your day?”

“Hi. Good.”

“You didn’t come see me on a break.”

“Because I didn’t take a break.”

He frowned and put his hand on my lower back, steering me out of the kitchen. A man at a table along the wall waved. Knox jerked up his chin but didn’t stop walking. “Anything from your parents today?”

“Not a word.”

“Damn.”