“. . . kind of finicky, truth be told . . .”
Rosie tuned back in to what the realtor was saying. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking loose the gorgeous illusion in her head. “Can you repeat that?”
Emma smiled knowingly and toed aside some left-behind debris, advancing toward Rosie. “They got some early interest in the building. Some credit issues popped up for the first applicant or it would already be sold. Nevertheless, after those bites we received right off the bat, the owner decided to increase the price.” She gave Rosie a commiserating eye roll that said she didn’t agree with the decision, but couldn’t do anything about it, either.
And then she rattled off a new number that made Rosie inwardly blanch.
“I see,” Rosie croaked. “I’m afraid that’s out of my—”
“She’ll take it,” came a gruff voice at the front door.
Rosie sucked in a breath and turned to find Dominic leaning against the wall, arms crossed. A badass hiding in the shadows, watching her. “When did you get here?” She shook her head. “What do you mean, I’ll take it?”
He pushed off the wall and came closer, hitting her with enough heat in one look to rival the power of a thousand suns. “You want it?”
“Yes,” she whispered, turning her back so they could have something that resembled a private conversation. “It’s . . . perfect. It’s everything I’ve been seeing in my dreams.” When his features softened and pure, unfiltered adoration stared back at her, she stepped closer, sighing over the welcoming embrace of his heat. “It’s too expensive. We can find someplace else. Maybe they’ll even come down on the price at some point.”
Dominic tipped her chin up. “Rosie, look at me.”
She searched his face, her heart racing faster at the amused tilt of his lips.
“We got this. Okay? This is your place.”
Call her naive. Call her greedy. Call her whatever you wanted. She needed to hear those words, to live in that reality so badly in that moment, that she didn’t question her husband. If Dominic, a careful planner to the extreme, told her they could afford the building, then she believed him.
“Oh my God.” She leapt into his arms and released a watery laugh, feeling so amazingly whole when he laughed, too, free and unrestrained. “Oh my God, is this happening?”
Dominic stroked a hand down her back, taking a deep inhale near her temple. “Cash sale. Where do we sign?”
Emma sputtered a little. “W-well, there’s an application process, but I ran Mrs. Vega’s credit before driving here and I can say with confidence that . . . well, you’re paying cash and her credit is outstanding, so I’ll just make a quick call to the owner and—”
The front door of the restaurant burst open and Stephen stomped in with a long piece of plywood over his shoulder. Travis took up the rear, winking at Rosie as he passed.
“We’re just going to get a head start patching those floorboards in back,” Stephen explained to the realtor. “Water damage, you know. It will only get worse if not handled immediately, and then we’d have to renegotiate the sale, right? No one wants to buy a property with that kind of hassle attached.”
Before Emma could answer, Bethany danced in surrounded by a cloud of dust motes, already flipping through a book of paint samples. “I’m seeing textured gold and pops of white,” Bethany mused, throwing Rosie a wink. “Congrats, big shot.”
Wes filled the doorframe. After sending a long look at Bethany’s back, he tipped his cowboy hat at Rosie. “Obliged to return the favor, Mrs. Vega.”
Georgie ducked under Wes’s arm and entered with a bright smile. “I’m just here to entertain. Construction karaoke! Who’s with me?”
So many emotions coursed through Rosie—disbelief and gratitude, to start—that it took every ounce of willpower to remain upright. It helped that Dominic’s arms were banded around her like steel beams and he wasn’t showing signs of letting go anytime soon.
“You’re going to kill it, Rosie,” Dominic murmured into her ear. “They might be our friends, but they wouldn’t be here unless they knew what you’re capable of.”
She eased back a little, letting him kiss the tears from her face. “And you?” Rosie whispered. “More than anyone, I need to hear that you think I’m capable.”
His thumb smoothed over the arch of her eyebrow, his gaze running a lap around her face. “You’re going to rule this world, just like you rule mine.”
There was so much quiet confidence in his voice, she must have imagined the flicker of trepidation there. Still, she started to question if he needed to talk, to tell her something, but hard rock started blaring in the space, interspersed with the sound of a hammer, and Dominic’s quick grin chased her worries away.
“This is my restaurant,” she breathed.
He planted a kiss on her forehead. “This is your restaurant.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dominic couldn’t stop staring at Rosie.
All seven of them—Dominic, Rosie, Travis, Georgie, Bethany, Stephen, and Wes—sat in a circle in the middle of the empty restaurant scarfing down pizza like it might be their last. Rosie had disappeared twenty minutes ago and returned with boxed wine, to the resounding cheers of everyone who’d spent the day laboring. She was already playing hostess, and, damn, it suited her. Cross-legged on the floor, dust in her hair, jacket long since discarded, she lit up the whole place. Forget decorating, she was going to be the attraction.
Dominic ignored the churn in his stomach that had been there since the morning. When he’d walked back into the hotel room, he’d hovered between two choices. Tell her about the house or keep it to himself. Seeing her this happy, it was hard to believe he’d made the wrong decision, but his conscience seemed hell-bent on making him question himself. He finished his Solo cup of cheap wine, setting it down in between himself and Rosie. The action caught her eye and she raised an eyebrow, asking without words if he wanted more. Dominic shook his head slowly and reached over to thread their fingers together.
“You’re celebrating. Have another,” Dominic said, leaning over to speak in her ear and press a lingering kiss on her cheek. “I’ll make sure you get back to Bethany’s safe.”
“Thanks,” she replied after a moment, her eyelids significantly droopier. There might be an animated conversation taking place all around them, but they could have been the only two people in the room. As much as he appreciated the support their friends had shown his wife today, he wouldn’t mind being alone with Rosie. No, he sure as hell wouldn’t mind that.
Wouldn’t be long before he’d have to share her every night. That thought made his shoulder perform a jerky roll, but he disguised the motion by refilling Rosie’s cup.
A lull in the conversation had the group taking a collective breath.
“So, Rosie,” Stephen said around pizza crust. “Do you have a name for the place yet?”
Dominic held his breath as Rosie pressed her lips together, hands folding and unfolding in her lap.
“I’m not totally settled yet, but I was thinking . . . Buena Onda. The rough translation of that is ‘good vibes.’” She smiled over at Dominic, almost shyly, like he didn’t worship every word out of her mouth, every idea in her head. “The kind I want this place to have.”