His brow furrows and his eyes hold a measure of sadness when he says, “I’m worried about that too, Kins.”
I blink, a little surprised by that. “You are?”
“I’ve met your father.”
I nod. “Yeah…”
“You want to do good things with it. You’re responsible, and giving, and work harder than anyone I know. I don’t know why he can’t see that.”
“He doesn’t want to. He’s punishing me for rebelling against what he wanted me to do with my life.”
“It’s your life, Kins. I hate that he dangles that trust fund like a carrot, so he can control you.” His eyes search my face. “What if we found another way, a way where you don’t have to feel indebted to him.”
“I’ve been to the banks. I have zero collateral.” I give a very unlady-like snort. “My father certainly won’t co-sign a loan.”
“I figured as much.” He sits on the small window ledge and pulls me between his legs. “Will you let me help you?”
My breath stalls. Is he suggesting what I think he’s suggesting? I give a fast shake of my head. “Cason, no—”
“Hear me out.”
I try to back up but he holds me to him, squeezing me with his legs as my hands disappear into his, his rough calluses scraping against the back of my fingers. “No, Cason. No. Never.”
“You want to make it on your own. I get what you’re saying. I also know how much you want to give back and help the community. This location is perfect for what you want to do, and I don’t want to see you lose it. We can consider it a loan if you want, until you’re in the black, but I am your husband so I’m not really sure how that will work,” he says making light of the situation. I flick a glance over his shoulder to peer into the window. “Let’s go in and you can think about it.”
I nod, even though in my heart, I know I won’t take him up on it. He’s doing enough for me as it is. He opens the door, and waves to let me in first. My heart jumps into my throat as I examine the space, and the complete design for the restaurant comes to me in a flash. Before I can stop myself, excitement pumps through my blood.
“Oh, Cason, we can put the kitchen back there, there will be so much room, and think about all the tables we can have. I want it to be elegant, but homey, too, you know. I want it to be welcoming for everyone.”
“I think it’s perfect.”
My hands go to my chest. “It is perfect. I can even do a booth here, by the window so customers can look out onto the street as they eat.” My heart thumps, and I throw my arms around him. “Thanks for arranging this.”
“I have a good feeling about it, Kins.”
I squeal a little, letting the excitement pump through my veins. “This weekend, maybe I’ll start drawing up what I want to do.”
“Speaking of this weekend, we’d better hit the road if we want to make it there for the barbecue and bonfire.”
We head back outside, and I give one last glance over my shoulder to memorize the space before Cason locks up. There’s an extra spring in my step as we head back to the car, and I turn to look at Cason. My heart squeezes so tight in my chest, it brings tears to my eyes, and I quickly blink them back.
“Tacos for life,” I tell him.
“For me?”
I squeeze his hand. “Yes, for you. For being so sweet.”
“I just want to see you happy, Kins.”
“Thanks, Cason, and don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you’re sweet.”
He squeezes my hand back, and we climb into his car. I rest against the seat and close my eyes to envision my very own restaurant as he drives us to the grocery store for supplies for his cottage. Once we’re loaded up with enough food to feed an army, we head to the beach. I sit up a little straighter when he pulls into the driveway, a gorgeous beachside cottage rising up before us.
“This is yours?” I examine the beautiful two-story beach house, painted in seafoam green, with numerous plants in the window boxes. We had a cottage growing up, but barely spent any time there. Someday, if I work really hard and my restaurant is a success, I hope to have a place like this to go to.
“Yeah. Do you like it?”
“I love it. Did you plant those flowers?”