I wad up my napkin and throw it at him. “You are a total sap.” But I rise up in my seat and lean over the table to plant a kiss on his waiting lips. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

“Cute enough for you to just take my money?”

“So cute I refuse to take your money.” I turn my attention back to my pizza. “But you can totally pay for dinner.”

After another bottle of wine, Jack pays the tab and grabs our leftover pizza. We walk back to the brownstone, and I tense up when we pass the space. The possible brick-and-mortar location of Bridge and Blooms. And I definitely feel a little tug of possibility, but I’m grateful when we pass by it without Jack’s mentioning a word.

Back at home, we change into our pajamas and climb under the sheets of my bed, immediately wrapping ourselves up in each other. Jack falls asleep almost instantly, the bastard.

I spend the next few sleepless hours mapping every possibility in my brain. What I’d need for the shop. The associates I’d need to hire. The business plan I’d need to create.

When I break it up into small, doable-sounding tasks, the whole idea becomes a hell of a lot less overwhelming. At the very least, it might be worth sketching out a budget. Seeing how much I’d really need to spend up front. Calculating how much I’d need to bring in each month in order to break even, how much I’d need to turn a profit. These are all things I’m capable of doing. Shit, numbers and spreadsheets were my life up until a few months ago.

I finally disengage from Jack’s embrace, scooting over to the side of the bed so I can lie flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling. I know when the numbers shake out it won’t be impossible. The upfront cost will sound daunting, and it will definitely be risky, but when I truly break it down, and compare it to what I’ve been bringing in over the past few months, it won’t be totally out of the question. I’d be putting everything on the line, but if it worked, it could turn a big profit. The real question would be whether I can handle someone else’s owning a stake in a business that’s taken root—pun intended—inside my very heart.

“You okay?” Jack’s raspy mumble pulls me out of my thoughts.

I turn on my side to face him, unable to hold back a smile when I see his adorable sleepy face. “Just thinking.”

He reaches out an arm, draping it over my waist and pulling me back into him. “You know whatever you decide, I’ll support you. Whatever you need.”