Memphis deserved a hell of a lot better for her family.
Luckily, I had the best one around.
“I was thinking about my sister today while I was driving to get Drake,” she said. “We used to go shopping together before every Christmas. It was the one thing we always did and enjoyed.”
“Spending money,” I teased.
“Yes.” She giggled. “She hasn’t spoken to me in months. I didn’t even realize how damaged our family was because we were all so good at keeping up appearances.”
“I’m sorry.” I pulled her into my side, kissing her hair.
“I’m not.” She touched Drake’s shoe. “He deserves better.”
“You both do.”
She smiled. “You’d better get going on these cookies.”
“Shit.” I laughed and gave her the baby. Then I worked with fury, mixing the dough and rolling it into balls while the oven preheated.
Memphis helped me clean up in a flash and as I stowed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, the door opened and Mateo poked his head inside. “Your lady is here.”
“Would you mind bringing her back?” My heart hammered as I spoke.
“Sure. Smells good in here. Did you make cookies?”
Memphis laughed.
“Yes. And you can eat them all.” My stomach was in a knot. “It’s just a few pictures but . . . damn. I wasn’t this nervous when Lester was coming to eat. What is wrong with me?”
“This article is a huge deal.” Memphis walked over, handing me Drake. Then she reached up to fix my hair. “When I worked in the city, I oversaw a lot of photo shoots. Everyone would get nervous. It’s normal.”
“Did you just make that up so I’d feel better?”
“Nope.”
“Stay. Don’t go anywhere, okay? I want you to be here.”
“Then we’ll stay.”
The door opened as I brushed my lips against hers. I broke away and looked up, ready to greet the photographer. Except the woman walking in behind Mateo was no stranger.
“Gianna?”
Memphis tensed.
What the hell was Gianna doing in Quincy? In my kitchen?
“Hey, Knox.” Gianna’s gaze held mine for a moment, then strayed to Memphis and Drake. She swallowed hard and forced a smile. “Good to see you.”
“You’re Gianna?” Mateo had rolled a large case in for her.
He set it on its wheels, then crossed his arms over his chest.
He looked to me and I gave him a slight headshake before he decided to toss her into a snowbank for breaking my heart years ago.
Gianna stepped out of the way as Mateo frowned and strode from the kitchen. Then she looked up and tucked a lock of her sleek black hair behind an ear.
“I didn’t realize you were the photographer,” I said. The magazine had simply said they were sending their photographer. I hadn’t asked for a name. Not in a million years would I have expected Gianna to step into my kitchen.
“I, um . . . I started with the magazine a couple of years ago.” So she’d known exactly where she was headed. She’d chosen to come here. Why?
The oven’s timer dinged and Memphis reached for Drake.
“I’m going to give you a minute.”
“You don’t—”
“We’ll be back.” Before I could protest, she had Drake in her arms and was out the door.
Shit. I rubbed my beard, then took the cookies from the oven, setting them aside before facing Gianna again. “Why’d you come here, Gi?”
“It’s been a long time.”
I nodded. “It has.”
“I tried calling you a few times.”
“Yeah.” And I hadn’t answered.
“When I saw your name for this assignment, I thought . . .”
She glanced at the door where Memphis had disappeared.
“You look good. Happy.”
“I am happy.”
“That’s great. Really great.” She burst into action, shrugging the camera case off her shoulder. She unzipped it and pulled out the camera she’d always carried with her everywhere. “I saw a few places in the dining area that might be great. And this space too. I’d like to get some different angles and shots. Maybe even have you make something.”
“All right.” I watched as she inspected the kitchen, avoiding eye contact.
Gianna. For years, I’d wondered what I’d say if I saw her again. If my reaction would be full of anger or resentment. But as I stared at her, I was just . . . relieved. Life had been rocky for a while, but I ended up exactly where I’d needed to be— home in Quincy, waiting for Memphis.