"What do you mean, what do I think?"
"About the space. It's pretty great, right? The floors are original, and the painting guys were able to get done so quickly." He takes long strides, saying something about the origins of the building, and I walk behind him.
"I don't need a new lease, Killian. The insurance company hasn't even begun to pay for my equipment that was –" I stop short when he leads me into the kitchen.
It's… fantastic. It's the most fantastic thing I've ever seen. The floor is black-and-white tile, and there are appliances. So many appliances. Gleaming, brand new, top-of-the-line appliances. There are even two walk-in freezers and a brand new refrigerator.
"Holy shit." I'm practically walking on air as I race through the kitchen. "I looked at this fridge when I was shopping for a new one. Do you know what this is? It's like the best model there is. It's so fucking expensive. Oh my God. There's food in the fridge, and there's flour and how the hell did you find a lease with all of this stuff in it in West Bend? Who was in this store before? It's like my dream kitchen!" I take a breath, because I'm so damn excited that I must be talking a mile a minute. Then I stop short, directly in front of Killian, my heart sinking as I realize. "There's no way I can afford the rent on a place like this."
"I know." Killian takes my hand and puts a set of keys in it. "That's why it's yours."
"I don't understand."
"I bought it. It's yours. Well, it's not yours quite yet. The deed will have to be transferred to you, and the accountant says we need to talk about taxes or something, but those are details. The point is that it's yours."
My head is spinning. "What are you talking about?"
"I bought it for you," Killian says.
"You bought me a bakery," I say, my voice flat. "You bought me a bakery?"
"Yes."
"With all of this – the kitchen and everything – you did this?" My blood pumps loudly in my ears.
"Yeah. I rushed everything in from Grand Junction and it really came together. I went and looked at what you had in your kitchen at the bakery and just got better versions of everything. And more of them."
"Are you insane?"
44
Killian
"I was hoping for something more along the lines of – 'This is so awesome, Killian!' The way you reacted before, when you first walked into the kitchen."
"Have you lost your mind?" she says, her voice rising.
"Look. You needed a new bakery, so I bought one." That came out more flippant than I intended it to.
"Oh, you just bought one? You went out and bought a bakery? With all of this stuff?" She puts a hand on her hip, her other hand gesturing wildly, her breasts rising and falling under that t-shirt as she yells at me.
I want to tell her that it's over I'm not fighting with her. I'm taking her back to my cabin where she belongs. Or to her house. Wherever. I'm not picky. "Yeah. I bought a bakery."
"Did nothing that I said sink in, about how you waltz into my life and start throwing your weight around, trying to rescue me when I don't need your damn rescuing?"
"I heard what you said," I tell her.
"No! You obviously didn't, because you went and bought me a damn store. Who does that?"
"I heard what you said about not rescuing you. I just didn't care."
"You just didn't care?"
"No."
Lily's nostrils are flaring again, her face flushed and I want my mouth on hers. "I don't know what kind of craziness this is, or why you want me to be indebted to you, but –"
"I'm not trying to get you to be indebted to me. Now you're being insane. It's a gift."
"People don't gift each other stores, Killian! They give each other flowers, or a gift card, or maybe a sweater –"
"A sweater? Who gives you a sweater? That's a terrible gift."
"That is not my point! My point is that no one gifts someone a bakery. No one normal, anyway." She pauses, her chest heaving, and thrusts the keys to the store at me, shoving them hard against my chest. "Take back your keys. And these appliances. And all of this stuff."
"No," I say, my voice firm.
"What do you mean, 'no'? I'm not accepting this."
"Yeah. You are. I'm not taking the keys back. You need this place and you're going to stop being so stubborn and listen to reason. I'm giving it to you, free and clear. You can date me or not. Fuck, you can hate me, for all I care. But I'm giving it to you for purely selfish reasons."
She looks up to me with her jaw set, and I want to kiss her more than anything. I'd forgotten how it felt when I first met her, how she looked when she'd stand so close to me in the kitchen, angry at me for interfering with the bakery. And making lewd comments. And ogling her. "I'm not being stubborn," she says. "I don't want to know what selfish reasons you have for this insane gesture because, so help me, if you tell me it's to get back in my pants –"