“Then there was your vision of Pemberley. Like something out of a dream. It was hard to focus on anything at Fitz’s. I was crawling out of my skin, wanting to get back to the hotel to beg your permission to use it. And I was going to.” He smooths his hands down my arms. “But I didn’t want to get in your way if that design scheme ended up being what you wanted for your new Meryton. Then you had your plan. And it hit me, looking at what you’d put together, that this was the perfect opportunity for all of us. But I didn’t want to cut in on something if Charles wanted to strike out on his own.”

“What changed? Why are you asking me now?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” He frowns thoughtfully. “My work life revolves around spending other people’s money, Bennet. I want to build something of my own. The fact that it involved something so exceptional for this building?” His hands find the exposed skin of my back and my breathing goes tight. “You said it yourself. Pemberley means a lot to me. I wouldn’t trust it to just anyone. I’ve been waiting the better part of my life for inspiration. You’re it.”

The word “inspiration” weaves through my rib cage; it’s going on the list with “paperwork” and “absolutely.” I slide my hand along the stubble of his jaw, trying to ground myself. “And if we fail? This is your money, Darcy.”

“Every investment has risks. If we remodel and the concept flops . . .” He tips his head side to side, as though weighing the potential outcome. “Not ideal, but hardly ruinous. Pemberley would return to being a rental venue, and a particularly stunning one at that. You would still get to see your plan realized, and—”

“Will still have failed, once again putting my friends’ careers in jeopardy, and—oh, yeah—losing you and Charles and Andrea a bunch of money—”

“Which could happen in any scenario: here, anywhere else Charles found, the original Meryton. Where’s the optimism you had five minutes ago?”

I purse my lips. “What about Pemberley’s current bookings?”

He tucks his chin, considering. “We have a smattering the next few months. The majority are far enough out that their relocating shouldn’t be an issue.”

He’s really thought about this. “We’re going to have to look at that before we go any farther.”

His hands scoot to just above my rear. “I have everything in my office.”

But he doesn’t move. I don’t either. A smile makes its way across his face.

“What?” I ask.

“You said we.”

“If we’re doing this, then we are doing this,” I say. His smile widens and I press a finger to the tip of his nose. “I said if. I want everything in writing.”