“We’re kind of a lot to handle. But you soften me?—”
“And you make me spicier,” I say, grinning harder after all. “No wonder it’s so delicious.”
She takes the bottle from my hand, her fingers brushing against mine, sending a flutter of need through me. Then she drinks, her mouth pressed to the place mine touched a moment before.
“We’re delicious,” she says with a smile.
I kiss her, and she tastes like pear.
“One might even say the perfect pear,” I whisper against her lips.
Her eyes twinkle. “I’m so happy you’re back I’m not even going to get on your case for making a terrible pun.” She leans over to set down the bottle. “You had something you wanted to tell me?”
I pull her close, and she turns her face up toward mine. Worry flickers in her gaze.
“Do you want to go back to San Francisco?” she asks. “Because I’ve been thinking about this a lot. If you do, I want to go with you. If you want me to.”
Shock renders me silent for a long moment as I stare at her. “You’d really do that?”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“And I don’t want to move to San Francisco. That’s not what I wanted to talk about. I…I want to buy The Ginger Station.”
Her lips part. “Cormac?”
“I want to buy it for you, not run it. I don’t know anything about breweries, but I do have some ideas that might help you run things more efficiently.”
“The BrewBot,” she says softly.
I laugh. “I should hope my work is more sophisticated than that now.”
“You’re saying this to someone who took weeks to make an even worse version of the claw machine.”
“I love it. No one’s ever made anything like that for me before.”
“You can’t buy a whole business for me, Cormac.” Her eyes are glassy with emotion, but she doesn’t wipe them or turn away. Thank God, she’s still here with me, hearing me out.
“I can. It won’t cause me any financial hardship.”
“I’m not Pansy.” She grips my shirt. “I don’t want to use you. I don’t want your money.”
“I know you don’t. I don’t really care about money either. I figure we should use it to make people’s lives better. I’m investing a lot of it in the foundation and some other charities, but I love you, Nora, and I want to makeyourlife better. Why’s that so wrong? From what I understand, The Ginger Station was your idea all along. Your dream. José’s not such a bad guy?—”
She lets out a strangled laugh and runs her fingers gently over my healing wounds.
“I mean, yes,” I continue, “he has an impressive right hook, but I get it. He lost you. He should be angry. But the business…you’re the one who needs to be in charge. You have it in your head that you’re not charming enough to take the lead, but that’s bullshit. Look at what you did for Ann and Nathaniel. Hell, you pepper-sprayed him in the face, and the next morning the man was eating breakfast with you. The business should beyours. You can do it.”
“What if you change your mind?”
I shake my head, cupping her jaw, taking in her beauty in the dusky twilight, on top of this roof, where we definitely shouldn’t be. “I haven’t changed my mind since we were teenagers. Why would I change it now? It’s like I told you. I’m going to choose you every day. Every day for the rest of my life.” I flinch, hearing the words. “That was probably too much, wasn’t it?”
She leans up on her toes, rubbing her lips lightly against mine before she kisses me. “I love you so much.”
“But you don’t want to say yes.”
Tears course down her cheeks. “I’m scared, Cormac. It’s so much to ask of you.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t ask.” I kiss her softly. “Let me do this for you. Let me love you, Nora.”
