Page 180 of Falling for the Grumpiest Protector

"I am."

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Too much to think about."

He hands me a coffee. "Then let's give you something else." He unlocks the door.

The space smells like dust and fresh paint. Empty storefront. Concrete floor. High ceiling. Possibility. I step inside. And immediately see it. Not the empty room. The restaurant it could become.

"Private dining along the back."

Julian smiles. "I knew you'd put it there."

"Kitchen expansion through this wall."

"That's what the contractor suggested."

I study it. "No. Move it six feet."

"Maddy."

"We'll lose storage otherwise."

"We gain storage on the north wall."

"Not enough."

He pulls out his phone and starts making notes. I walk farther into the space. Windows along the front. Enough room for thirty additional seats without crowding. A long banquette. Private dinners. Wine events. Maybe Sunday brunch if Julian ever wears me down.

I turn slowly. This is good. Not theoretically. Not someday. Good now. And I want it. The realization comes cleanly. "I want the space."

Julian doesn't celebrate. He knows me better than that. "But?"

I look around again. "If we do this, what does it mean for me?"

"You'll need to be here."

"How much?"

He considers the question. "For the build-out? A lot."

"Weeks?"

"Probably months, Maddy. Not every day. But I can't do this without you."

Months. I look through the open doorway toward our restaurant. Yesterday morning I was kissing Javier at the farm and telling him I'd be back in a few days. "Okay."

"That's not a small ask."

"I know."

"And I'm not asking you to figure out the rest of your life right now."

I look at him. "Good. Because I can't."

He nods. I turn back toward the room. "Let's go through the contractor estimate."

At two, we sit down with the landlord. At two forty-seven, he leaves. The signed letter of intent is on the table between us. Not the final lease. Not yet. But enough. We've said yes.