He poured.

Then he set the bottle aside and ordered, “Here.”

I was a foot and a half away.

I went there.

His arm curled around me, my free hand went to rest on his shoulder and he lifted his glass.

I did too.

He touched his to mine and caught my eyes. “Proud of you, baby, workin’ your ass off findin’ ways to make life better.”

I smiled into his eyes. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

I noticed his glass going up, I brought mine up too and we drank.

When Knight was done, he immediately put his to the chest then slid mine out of my hand and it joined it. Then he shoved his hand in the pocket of his trousers.

“Hand, babe, palm up,” he muttered.

I lifted my hand, palm up.

His hand came out and he dropped a set of keys into my palm.

My breath left me as I stared. Then I stared harder.

I thought they’d be for a car which I couldn’t accept, I loved him but he’d already done enough for me. But they weren’t.

I already had the keys to his house.

I felt my brows inch together as my eyes went from the keys to him.

“What –?” I started and he turned fully into me. I had to close my hand around the keys and put it to the chest as he pulled me to him using both arms.

“Notice,” he stated confusingly then went on. “Monday. The bossy bitch who likes to spend money is on stand-by. I’ll give you her card, you call her, sit down with her, tell her your vision but if you don’t want black, don’t mention red.”

I shook my head, still confused. “Pardon?”

“Once she does her gig,” he continued, not answering me but still talking, “she’ll inform me. The firm who does my marketing for the club will pull together a strategy. You want a one-woman show, it’ll be small. You wanna hire staff, they’ll do it up.”

“Knight, what are you talking about?”

“Own most of this block, babe, had a shop close down. Opposite corner. Those keys open the front door. That’s your new spa.”

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

My chest seized, I pulled out of his arms, hard, heart beating, harder.

“I can’t accept that,” I whispered then finished, “And I won’t.”

His brows snapped together.

“What?”

I shook my head. Overwhelmed. Happy he’d want to do that. For me.

But it was not going to happen.

“I’m sorry,” I said louder. “That was rude, honey. What you’ve done is sweet. I appreciate it. But I can’t accept.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Why the f**k not?”

“I just…” I faltered. “I just can’t.”

He studied me then he crossed his arms on his chest.

“Why, Anya?”

“I… you wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” he ordered.

I pulled in a breath and looked across the room.

Then I thought maybe he would understand.

I looked back at him.

“It has to be me. It has to be mine. I have to do it on my own.”

“Love you, babe,” he said, throwaway. My stomach clenched and dropped and my heart squeezed because he meant it but said it in a way like I already knew it. “Love you,” he repeated. “But that’s f**ked.”

I powered through the fact that he loved me.

Loved me!

And I stuck with the current matter at hand.

“Knight, honey, you did this all on your own.” I flicked a hand out to indicate the club. “Can’t you get me?”

His head cocked to the side and he said, “I did not f**kin’ do all this on my own.”

I blinked.

Then I asked, “What?”

“Babe, do you have any clue how much it costs to set up a place like this?”

I totally didn’t.

“No.”

“A f**kin’ lot,” he told me. “I had a silent partner. He was the capital, I was the face. He existed to drive me up the f**kin’ wall. I did all the work. He shoved his nose in, f**ked things up. Repeatedly. He did not get the concept of ‘silent’ no matter how often or what tactics I used to explain. Couple of years in, I was done with him drivin’ me up the wall. I made moves, took over, forced him out. Hostile. Though, I was thorough and he was half ass**le, half idiot. Didn’t put up much of a fight. Now I own the club outright and he lives in Costa Rica with three local women who, sources say, regularly get in catfights not for his attention but for his generosity ‘cause he’s still got more money than sense. One of his bright ideas for this place was female mud wrestling. He’s havin’ the time of his life.”

I felt my lips quirk and I asked, “Female mud wrestling?”

“Like I said, the dude is half ass**le, half idiot.”

I started giggling.

Knight didn’t find anything funny.

“I’m tired of you crawlin’ out of bed three hours after I joined you in it. I’m tired of classes and client nights and Saturdays which means I cannot have dinner with my woman but once a week. And bottom line, I’m not gonna sit back and watch my woman work her ass off when I can do something about it. You need to lose the day job.”

“Knight –”

“You can’t not accept because that’s unacceptable,” he cut me off. “You put notice in, no more than two weeks, Anya. And you spend your time with that bossy bitch who likes to spend money and move your clients to days. And your nights, before I have to take off, are spent with me. You design the spa you want. You decide how you’re gonna play it. We market it to get you clients. And I cover all that and your rent and living expenses until you get that show on the road.”

“Knight –”

“This isn’t a discussion.”

“Knight!” I shouted.

“What?” he clipped.

“Okay, but I have twenty thousand dollars saved for when I was gonna start my spa and I handle my rent and living expenses until I get that show on the road. And you keep track of what you spend and when I start turning a profit, we’ll set up a schedule for me paying you back.”

This was the wrong thing to say and I knew by the hard look that settled on his face.

“You don’t pay someone back for a gift, Anya.”