“She invaded my kitchen on her vacation here that Christmas. I’ve never seen anyone make so much food in a few hours. We’ve kept in touch. I actually just sent her some recipes a few weeks ago. Including that one.” He pointed toward my plate. “Small world.”
“That it is.”
Though I hoped, for my sake and Drake’s, there was a bit that remained big. That over the miles between Montana and New York, I’d be able to put some distance between the future and the past.
Montana had an appeal for many reasons. This intimate, friendly community was one. Another was the lack of Ward Hotels in the entire state.
My grandfather had started the first Ward Hotel in his twenties. Over his lifetime, he’d grown his enterprise into a chain of boutique hotels before passing the business to my father. Under Dad’s rule, the company had quadrupled in the past thirty years. Nearly every major metropolitan area in the country had a Ward Hotel, and he’d recently begun expanding into Europe.
But there were none in Montana. Not a single one.
“I read Cleo’s interview, then saw the application for a housekeeping position and applied,” I said.
“And now you’re here.” Knox stopped plating and braced his hands on the table, locking his gaze with mine. Questions swam in his eyes.
Questions I wasn’t going to answer.
“Now I’m here and had better get back to work.” I stood from the table. “Thank you for lunch. It was delicious.”
“See ya, Memphis,” Skip called over his shoulder.
“Bye.” I headed for the door, glancing back one last time.
Knox’s gaze was waiting. His expression was almost unreadable. Almost. Suspicion was written across his handsome features. And restraint. Probably because he wanted my story.
But that confession was mine and mine alone.
I was halfway through the restaurant when my phone rang in my pocket. I dug it out, checking to make sure it wasn’t the daycare. It wasn’t. So I hit decline and stowed it away.
Sixty-three.
At this rate, it would be one hundred before the end of September.
Maybe by then, the calls would stop.
CHAPTER SIX
KNOX
“Thanks for dinner.” Griffin clapped me on the shoulder as we stood on the front porch of his house.
“Welcome.”
The macaroni and cheese I’d made Memphis last week had given me a craving, so I’d made a huge batch today with plenty to spare. Before coming to see Griff and Winn with a pan for dinner, I’d dropped one off at Mom and Dad’s place too.
“Nice night.” Griffin drew in a long breath. The scent of leaves and rain and cooler temperatures was in the air.
“Sure is.” I leaned against one of the wooden beams, glancing out across the land as I took a sip from my beer.
Surrounded by trees with the mountains in the distance, Griffin’s place was the reason I’d built my own. I’d wanted my own haven away from the bustle of town. Our styles were entirely different. Griff preferred a traditional look with an abundance of wood, while I favored the sleek, modern lines of glass.
Though our houses were different, the setting was the same.
Rugged mountain countryside. Evergreens with the year-round scent of pine. Sunshine and blue sky. Home.
A cry came from inside the house and Griffin straightened, turning toward the front door as Winn came outside with my two-month-old nephew, Hudson, fussing in her arms.
“Tag, you’re it.” She handed her son to his father. “He wants me during the day but only Griff at night.”
My brother nodded at his son. “We’ve got lots to talk about at night, don’t we, cowboy? And sometimes you just need a new set of arms.”
Hudson’s fussing ceased as my brother walked the length of the porch.
My heart twisted at the sight.
I loved Hudson. But his birth had triggered memories I’d done my best to forget these past five years. Memories that weren’t as buried as I’d once thought.
Griffin hadn’t known Gianna, nor had any of my siblings. Mom and Dad had met her once on a vacation to San Francisco, but that had been before Jadon. My family knew what had happened, but it was something I’d refused to discuss after I’d moved home.
No one knew how hard it was to be around a baby.
“Dinner was amazing.” Winn gave me a sleepy smile. “Exactly what I was craving.”
“Anytime.” I winked as she pressed a hand to her belly.
It was early in her second pregnancy, but I suspected before too long they’d all come to the restaurant more frequently. While she’d been pregnant with Hudson, I’d taken it as my personal challenge to feed my sister-in-law’s cravings.
“How are things at the restaurant?” she asked, sinking into one of the porch’s rocking chairs.
“Good. Busy.” Roxanne was running the show tonight. Wednesdays were typically slow this time of year, so when she’d told me to stop hovering and head home after lunch, I’d actually listened.
Griffin kept pacing with Hudson, murmuring words to his son that I couldn’t make out.
“It’s his voice.” Winn followed my gaze. “I think because it’s deeper. This time of night, Griff’s voice is about the only thing that will put him to sleep.”
“Makes sense.” It wasn’t always easy to see Griffin with his son, but that wasn’t something I’d admit to them. To anyone.
“You feeling okay?” I asked Winn.
“Just a little tired. But I think that will be the norm for a few years.”
Griffin strode our way. “Maybe by the time we have this next one, Hudson will sleep through the night.”
“That’s the dream.” Winn crossed her fingers. “How’s it going with Memphis?”
“All right. I don’t see her much.” And that had been by design. There was a reason that I hadn’t taken much time off lately. That I hovered at Knuckles. There was a reason that on my rare night away from the restaurant, I’d escaped to the comfort of my brother’s home and not my own.
Griffin and I had a bond formed from youthful years of hiding mischief and suffering the consequences when our parents inevitably caught us causing trouble. He’d been my best friend since birth. We knew each other better than most, which was probably why he hadn’t asked about Memphis. He could sense I didn’t want to talk about her.
What would I say? I was attracted to her. Every time she walked into the room, my heart stopped and my dick twitched. If that had been the end of the story, if it had been just a woman passing through town, I would have chased her that first night.
But she wasn’t a tourist here today, gone tomorrow. There was no escaping her, at work or at home. Then there was the kid.
Seeing Drake was harder than seeing Hudson. I wasn’t sure why but every time he cried, it cut right through my chest. Maybe it was because Memphis was dealing with it alone. She bore the brunt of his screams. She carried the weight on her slender shoulders.
But it wasn’t my business. It wasn’t my place to interfere.
I’d had enough dramatics for a lifetime and Memphis had drama written all over her pretty face.