I sink my hand into her hair, craning her head back. "That'll never happen."
"I know." She smiles at me. "It was just a passing worry, based more on my own history than on you. It didn't last long because I know you. You aren't that kind of man."
"No, I'm not," I agree softly. "I'll never just walk away from you."
"I've been worried," she whispers, her smile slipping.
"About me leaving you?"
"No. About what would happen between us once you bought the building. I was afraid it'd break my heart, and I'd never get over it," she admits. "I've never been a very gracious loser, especially when something matters, Lincoln. And I really hated the thought of losing you just because I couldn't get over it." She sighs softly. "I would have regretted pushing you away forever."
"I wasn't going to let that happen," I murmur, holding her gaze. "I think I knew I couldn't take the building from you the day I met you. I was sure of it when you got all fired up, telling me why you chose this place."
"I love it here," she whispers, her gaze earnest. "I was scared I'd resent you if you took it, but I don't think I would have. Maybe it would have stung for a while, but I think I would have gotten over it. You know why?"
"Why?"
"Because I'd rather have you. This place is a big part of my dream, but it just wouldn't feel the same if the price was losing you."
I press my lips to hers, my kiss soft. "Now, you'll have both, sweetness. That's what you deserve, you know. To have everything you want. You might not let me give it to you, but I'm going to try like hell anyway."
"I have everything I want already," she whispers against my lips, smiling. "This is the best day ever."
I smile because she isn't wrong.
"So, you aren't actually the devil," Jasmine says early the next morning, smirking at me with her hands on her hips. "Good to know."
"Thank you," I murmur to her, not for the compliment, but for telling me the truth. It was the push I needed to do what I already knew I needed to do. Like I told Lilah, I think I knew from the very beginning that I couldn't take the building from her.
Projects come and go. There's only one Lilah, and the way she loves this place means something. So do the history and significance of the building. I don't want to be the one to tear it all down. Sometimes, the best progress is learning when things are already exactly as they need to be and then doing what's required to help them flourish.
"You can thank me by making her happy," Jasmine says. "It's what she deserves." Her gaze drifts across me. "And if you don't, I know where you work." She bats her lashes at me. "I know where you sleep, too."
Somehow, the subtle threat is more impactful when it's delivered by someone five-two with ruby-red lipstick and a messy bun. Probably because she means it.
Jasmine Knudsen is a terrifying woman.
"Duly noted," I murmur, shaking my head.
"Jazz, are you harassing him again?" Lilah calls, poking her head out of the back, a smile on her face. I don't think it's reallyleft her face at all since last night. She's so damn happy, she's glowing.
"Who, me?" her best friend asks, her tone all innocence. "I would never."
"Uh-huh," Lilah mutters. "Just like you weren't the one who poured sugar in Kyle's gas tank. And slashed his tires. And left a flaming bag of shit on his steps."
"Wasn't me," Jasmine lies.
"Kyle?" I quirk a brow in question.
"The guy from college," Lilah explains.
"Ah, the asshole who didn't deserve you."
"Yeah, him."
I hold my fist out for Jasmine to bump, earning a surprised laugh as she bumps it with hers. "Good job," I say.
"Lincoln!" Lilah cries.
