I held Drake closer, breathing in his baby smell. Standing there, with my feet on the ground, I let myself breathe again. For one heartbeat. Then two. I let the soles of my shoes be warmed by the rocks. I let my heart sink out of my throat and return to my chest.
We made it.
Quincy might not be our forever home. But forevers were for dreamers. And I’d stopped dreaming the day I’d started ranking my worst days. There’d been so many, it had been the only way to keep moving forward. To know that none had been as awful as the first-worst day. To know that if I’d survived that one, I could endure the second and the third and the fourth.
Today marked the fifth.
It had started at a gas station in North Dakota. I’d pulled over last night to get some sleep. Twenty minutes, that’s all I’d wanted. Then I’d planned to get back on the road. Drake had been zonked and I hadn’t wanted to wake him up by hauling him into a seedy hotel.
Napping in the car had been a reckless decision. I’d thought I was safe beneath the parking lot’s bright lights. My eyes hadn’t been closed for more than five minutes when a truck driver had knocked on my window, licking his lips.
I’d sped away and, hopefully, run over his toes.
My heart had hammered for the next hour, but once the adrenaline had worn off, soul-deep exhaustion had burrowed under my skin. I’d been afraid of falling asleep at the wheel so I’d pulled over on the interstate to hop out and jog in place under the stars. I’d stretched for all of thirty seconds before a bug had flown under my shirt and left two bites along my ribs.
The sting had kept me awake for the next hour.
At dawn, I’d found another turnoff to stop and change Drake. When I’d lifted him out of his seat, he’d spit up all over my shirt, forcing me to give myself a baby-wipe bath. Any normal day, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. But it had been one more straw and my back was close to breaking.
During our last gas station stop, he’d started crying. With the exception of a few short naps, he hadn’t really stopped.
Hours of that wail and I was fried. I was weary. I was scared. I was nervous.
My emotions were battling each other, fighting to take first place. Fighting to be the one that pushed me over the edge.
But we’d made it. Somehow, we’d made it.
“Let’s go check out our new spot.” I kissed Drake as he squirmed—he had to be hungry—then shifted him to the cradle of my arm. With one hand, I hefted out the next duffel in the stack, but I’d forgotten how heavy it was. The nylon strap slipped from my fingers, the bag plopping to the ground. “Ugh.”
“I’ll get it.” A deep, rugged voice sounded from behind me, then came the crunch of boots on gravel.
I stood, ready to smile and introduce myself, but the second I spotted the man walking my way, my brain scrambled.
Tall. Broad. Tattooed. Gorgeous.
Why had I kept driving last night? Why hadn’t I stopped at a hotel with a shower?
I was in no place to crush on a guy. The new Memphis—mom Memphis—was too busy getting formula stains out of her shirts to preen for men. But the old Memphis—single, rich and always up for an orgasm or two Memphis—really, really liked sexy, bearded men.
He bent and picked up the duffel before grabbing the largest suitcase from the trunk. His biceps strained the sleeves of his gray T-shirt as he carried them both toward the garage. Narrow hips. Sinewed forearms. Long legs covered in faded jeans.
Who was he? Did he live here? Did it matter?
Drake whined and that sound snuffed the laser beam that had been my gaze on this guy’s sculpted ass.
What the hell was wrong with me? Sleep. I needed sleep.
Before anyone could catch me staring, I dropped my chin and rushed after him, pausing long enough to snag the diaper bag from the backseat.
The metal on the stairs gave a low hum with each step. The man had almost made it to the landing when Eloise popped out.
“Good, you’re helping.” She smiled at him, then waved us all inside. “Knox Eden, meet Memphis Ward. Memphis, this is my brother Knox. This is his house.”
Knox set down the bags and jerked up his chin. “Hi.”
“Hi. This is Drake. Thanks for renting us your apartment.”
“I’m sure another spot will open up in town.” He shot Eloise a glare. “Soon.”
The tension rolling through the loft was thicker than traffic on East Thirty-Fourth from FDR Drive to Fifth Avenue.
Winslow studied the honey-colored floors while Eloise narrowed her gaze at her brother.
Meanwhile Knox did nothing to disguise the irritation on his face.
“Is, um . . . is this place not for rent?” It would be on par for my day to arrive somewhere I was unwelcome.
“No, it’s not,” he said as Eloise said, “Yes, it is.”
“I don’t want to cause any trouble.” My stomach churned. “Maybe we should find another place.”
Eloise crossed her arms over her chest, raising her eyebrows as she waited for her brother to speak. She was too pretty to be intimidating, yet I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that look.
“Fine,” Knox grumbled. “Stay as long as you need.”
“Are you sure?” Because it sounded a lot like he was lying. I’d heard my fair share of lies as a New York socialite.
“Yeah. I’ll get the rest of your bags.” Knox breezed past me, the scent of sage and soap filling my nose.
“Sorry.” Eloise put her hands on her cheeks. “Okay, I need to be honest. When you called and said there weren’t any apartments around town, I did some checking too. And you’re right. Nothing is available in your price range.”
I groaned. So she’d pawned me off on her unwilling brother. I was a charity case.
Old Memphis would have refused charity.
Mom Memphis didn’t have that luxury.
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not,” Eloise said. “He could have told me no.”
Why did I get the feeling it was hard for people to tell her no? Or that she rarely accepted it as an answer? After all, that was how I’d driven out here.
After an hour-long Zoom interview, I’d fallen in love with the idea of working for Eloise and I hadn’t even seen the hotel premises. She’d smiled and laughed through our conversation. She’d asked about Drake and complimented my résumé.
I’d taken this job not because I aspired to clean rooms, but simply because she was the anti-Father. There was nothing cold, ruthless or cunning about Eloise. My father would hate her.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked.
“Absolutely. Knox just isn’t used to having people out here. But it will be fine. He’ll adjust.”
Was that why he’d built a home full of glass? Out here, he didn’t need the privacy of walls. The location gave him seclusion. And I was intruding.
We didn’t have a lease agreement. As soon as a vacancy in town came open, I doubted Knox would mind losing my rent check.
He came striding up the staircase, the thud from his boots reverberating through the loft. His frame filled the doorway as he walked inside carrying another three bags.
“I can get the rest,” I said as he set them on the floor. “And I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know we’re here.”