Upstairs is another living area and a kitchen. There’s a half roof of slanted windows that let in more light. Here, someone has left an old brown-leather chesterfield sofa and a battered wood coffee table. I’m shown a small bedroom tucked toward the back, and then we’re going up again to another level that houses three big bedrooms and three baths. There is a rooftop terrace with a trellis but the rest is fairly bare.

John shoves his hand into his jeans pockets and walks around. “A couple of potted plants and maybe some bougainvillea or wisteria on the trellis, and you’d have your own oasis.”

“It’s more than most people get in the city,” I say neutrally. He’s not buying this place, so why is he showing it to me?

“True.” He casts a critical eye at the one of the pavers, and kicks a lose pebble to the side. “But I always thought the character of a place is more important.”

“Well, of course it.” Honestly, he’s acting so oddly, I’m getting unnerved.

Taking my hand again, he guides me back down to the living area, and then lets me go, only to take up pacing the floorboards. I watch him for a minute, confusion growing within me.

“You don’t like it? Or did you want a second opinion?” I glance around. The townhouse is cozy but bright, and not so big that a person would feel lost in it. There’s a sense of permanence about it. “It’s beautiful. Homey.”

He eyes me carefully. “I’m glad you think so.”

“So you are buying it,” I counter, not understanding that soft, almost hopeful look in his green eyes. “You should. It’s perfect. All the privacy you’ll ever need but it feels like a home.”

John steps away from the window. “I did buy it. But not for me. I bought it for you.”

“Me?” I stare at him. I must have heard that incorrectly. “I don’t … You bought it for me?”

“Yeah, you.” The corners of his lips curve slightly. “This house is yours, Button. If you like it, that is.”

“I … You …” I blow out a breath. “You can’t buy me a house, John!”

He lifts his chin, his expression set, determined. It’s the same look he wore on that long-ago day when I bumped into him on the stoop and insisted that he was stalking me. The same day I started to fall for him. “But I did. It’s yours.”

“I can’t accept a house from you.” My voice echoes off the empty walls, sounding slightly panicked and completely shocked. “It’s too much. It’s a freaking house, for Pete’s sake.” Not just any house. A freaking townhouse in New York City. On a private street. I don’t have to be a realtor to know this place probably cost upward of ten million dollars.

Ten million. My head feels light. I flop down on the leather sofa and practice deep breathing.

John shrugs as he slowly walks closer. “Stella, I’m a rock star. We’re kind of known for our impulsive buys and grand gestures.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want this gesture.” I laugh shortly. “And I thought the couture dress you sent me was too much.”

He smiles then, wide and unrepentant. “You look sexy as hell in that dress.”

“Well, I can’t wear a house.” My head is spinning. “My god, John. A house? I don’t need you to buy me presents. I just want you. You’re all I need.”

His smile falls, and he kneels by my side. “Hey, don’t freak out.”

“Kind of hard when you’re giving me gifts I can never repay in my lifetime.”

Gently, he rests his big hand over mine. “The point of a gift is that you don’t have to repay it.”

“John … A house?”

His lips quirk, and I know he’s fighting to keep a straight face. “I understand that, to normal people, it’s an outlandish thing to get someone. But we both know I’m not normal. Not anywhere within the area code of normal.” He squeezes my hand. “I know you don’t want me for my money. This isn’t about that. I want you to have this house.”

“But why?”

For a second, he searches my face as though he’s trying to see if I’m kidding or just plain clueless. “Because you have always wanted a home. That’s what you told me. Remember? ‘A house on a little street, where it’s private but close to everything. An older house with character and charm, and a rooftop garden to plant tomatoes and flowers, and I can soak in the sun’.”

Oh, God. I did say that.

“This …,” he stretches an arm out in the direction of the room, “can be your home. You never have to worry about losing it because it’s yours outright. I’ve added all tax payments into the mortgage, which goes directly to me. You’re safe now, Stells. Always.”

Oh. Hell.

His hair refuses to lie straight, instead sticking up in wild angles along the top of his head. I smooth my palm over one, and he closes his eyes, blinking slowly, his whole body leaning into the touch.

“So,” I say, none too steadily, “does this house come with you in it?”

He goes completely still. Jade-green eyes hold mine, giving nothing away. “No. It’s yours. No strings attached.”

“And if I want you in it?”

Did I think he was still before? He’s frozen now, tense and staring. He licks his lips before speaking. “Then I’ll be here with you for as long as you will have me.”

“I mean, it’s a pretty big house.” My fingers comb through his hair just for the pleasure of touching him. “I couldn’t possibly use all this space alone.”

His body slowly relaxes, leaning toward mine. “I could probably convert one of the rooms into a practice space.”

Both of us are speaking lightly, like this is all idle conversation. It’s anything but.

“You could.” I trace the shell of his ear, loving the way he shivers. “But what if I wanted babies?”

A light comes into his eyes that I haven’t seen before. It is free and bright and beautiful. “Then, Stella Button, it would be an honor to try and help you make those babies.”

I can’t stop my grin. “You’d really want that? Children? Family life?”

I’m not even sure I want that right now. But I have to know what he’s thinking about us, about the future. He doesn’t seem daunted. He looks happy, hopeful.

John runs his hands up my thighs and holds my hips. “I want everything with you, Stells. Everything and anything. You want kids, we’ll have kids. If you don’t, then we’ll have each other alone. That we are together is what matters.” His grip tightens. “That is my dream. You and me. It’s what gives me peace.”

Hot tears well in my eyes, and John thumbs them away as they roll down my cheeks. I’m a mess with him.

“I want that too,” I say. “Buying me a house is a beautiful, if somewhat shocking gesture.”

He laughs low and soft, only now appearing the slightest bit chagrined.

I lean in closer, touching his jaw. “But it’s not a home if you aren’t with me.”

John presses his forehead against mine. “I love you, Stella. I don’t want to go through this life without you. Please believe that. Please believe that I’ll try to do better. I’ll try to—”

I kiss him quiet. It’s a soft kiss, a press of lips to lips, but John groans deep in his throat and takes over, grasping the back of my neck to hold me in place as his mouth opens over mine. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how good it is to kiss him. The visceral punch I feel through my body still takes my breath.