Historic business preservation status.
Rent control mandate.
Corporate acquisition nullification.
"You got my building declared historic?"
"The bakery has been in continuous operation for seventy-three years." His voice is steady, calm, like he's reciting facts he's memorized. "Under municipal code section forty-two point seven, any business with continuous operation exceeding fifty years in the original location qualifies for historic preservation status. Once granted, the lease cannot be terminated exceptunder extreme circumstances, and rent increases are capped at two percent annually, adjusted for inflation."
I observe him, my mouth hanging open.
"You memorized municipal code."
"I memorized all of it." He shifts slightly, reaching into his other pocket. "I also filed a formal complaint with the city about the attempted illegal dumping. The developer's business license is currently under review. He will not bother you again."
"Lanek—"
"I am not finished." He pulls out something small, wrapped carefully in butcher paper. "I also learned that human courtship involves flowers. But I am a butcher, not a florist. So I made this instead."
He unwraps the paper slowly, revealing something so delicate and unexpected that it stops my breath completely.
A rose.
A perfect, intricate, impossibly detailed rose carved entirely from a single radish, the edges of each petal so thin they're almost translucent, dyed the exact shade of pink I use for my bakery logo.
"How..."
"I practiced for ten hours. I ruined forty-seven radishes. But I wanted to give you something beautiful. Something that came from my hands but honored your world. Something that proved I can create softness, not just wield violence."
The tears are falling freely now, hot and unstoppable, dripping onto the leather-bound document in my lap.
"It's perfect."
"You are perfect." He reaches up, cupping my face again, his callused thumbs brushing away tears. "You are fierce and strong and you do not bend. You demanded I be better, and you were right to demand it. I will spend the rest of my life learning how tobe the partner you deserve. I will learn your laws. Your customs. Your language. I will meet you halfway in all things."
"Not all things," I manage, my voice breaking. "Some things I need you to stay exactly as you are."
A slow, devastating smile spreads across his face, transforming his features from vulnerable to purely predatory in the space of a heartbeat.
"Tell me."
I take a shaky breath, feeling the solid heat of him beneath my palms. "I need you to keep bringing me perfect cuts of meat."
"Done." The answer is immediate, absolute.
"I need you to keep looming protectively over anyone who dares to insult my pastries."
"Easily." His grip on my waist tightens possessively.
"I need you to keep pinning me against brick walls in that alley and telling me I'm yours in that voice that makes me forget every single reason I should maintain professional boundaries."
His pupils dilate, and that low, rumbling growl vibrates through his chest again.
"Always."
"And I need you to stop kneeling on this cold floor and kiss me."
He surges up immediately, lifting me clean off the stool and into his arms, crushing his mouth to mine in a kiss that tastes like burnt meat pie and radish shavings and absolute devastating certainty.
