Evin's Fight (Southern Charmers Book 3) Ahren Sanders (all ebook reader .TXT) 📖

as soon as I get your name on it.”

“What do we need a building for?”

“It’s an investment I couldn’t pass up. Location is highly desired in the heart of Charleston. The tenant will have a prime spot.”

“Do you have a tenant?”

“Not yet, but there’s a lot of interest. So far, I’ve been able to remain anonymous. Pierce, Miller, and Warren are helping me with some general renovations.”

“Evin! Why’d you keep it from me? Everyone else knows.”

“I’ve been working on a surprise, and until about an hour ago, I wasn’t sure it would come together. Now it has.”

“What has?”

“Tomorrow morning, we’re cleared to show the building. I have a good feeling about this prospect.”

“I know nothing about being a landlord or choosing who should occupy space.”

He dips in, stealing a quick kiss. “You’ll learn tomorrow.”

Chapter 33

Evin

Poppy’s quiet, too quiet. It’s been ten minutes since she made a sound. She’s inspected every inch of the downstairs and is now examining the open space up here.

“Evin,” my name comes out breathy, “I know nothing about real estate, but this is phenomenal. Is it really yours?”

“It’s ours,” I correct her for the sixth time.

“It’s going to sound mystical… but I feel spiritual in this space. Like life-changing events are going to happen in this building. There’s an effervescence that’s speaking to me.”

I fight the urge to beat my chest in victory. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Seriously, these exposed beams and red brick, the windows and natural light—what is that you’re leaning on?”

“Coffee bar, beverage station, wet bar, whatever it needs to be.”

“Any idea what someone would do with this space?”

My brain is loaded with ideas. “Guess it depends on what kind of business moves in.”

“What’s through there?” She gestures behind me.

“See for yourself.” I open the door, wait for her to swing through, and resume my stance against the doorframe.

She spins and twirls, her jaw-dropping as she sweeps the area. “Holy shit! This is… this is… I don’t know what it is, but it’s huge.”

“It’s twelve hundred square feet.”

“That’s larger than my first apartment.”

“The square footage is equal to the shed.”

“What would someone do with this? Should we separate the top and bottom floors?”

“We could do that, but I think this would be a great apartment. It’s been rewired, plumbing is upgraded, and the kitchen needs a facelift.”

“There’s a kitchen?” Her eyes bulge.

“There is.”

“Do you think the prospective tenant is looking for a place to live as well?”

“Not full time. My sources explained they have unconventional business hours. Many late nights. The husband is a needy bastard and wants a fully functioning space so they don’t miss too much time together.”

“Huh.” She scrunches her nose, seeming to think about it, then shakes her head dismissively. “Guess that’s sweet.”

“Yes, sweet, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” I chuckle to myself. Nothing about my thought process was sweet when designing this space.

“This sounds more and more like a done deal than a prospect.”

“You are the deciding vote.”

“Any idea what these people want to do? It will crush me if they want to change any of the original charm.”

“I agree, that’s why my research was thorough. You must approve any structural changes.”

She squints, pursing her lips. “You know what they want to do and are holding out on me.”

“I have some drawings that Pierce and Miller came up with based on specs given.”

“Let’s see them.”

I press the remote button in my pocket, the retractable wall rising to reveal a temporary office and wall lined with sketches. She pivots on her crutches and hustles to the wall.

I know the instant realization sets in. “Evin?” her voice is ragged and quivering. “These are sketches of a dance studio.”

“They are sketches of your dance studio.”

She whips around, a dozen reactions crossing her face at once. “You bought me a dance studio?”

I don’t answer, letting her absorb the news.

“EVIN!” she screams, then repeats, “You bought me a dance studio.”

“I bought the building where you can design your dream studio.”

The crutches tumble to the floor and her hands fly to her face, but not before the emotions erupt. I’m on the move, getting to her as she collapses. She clutches to my shirt, a sharp pain shooting where her fingernails dig into the skin over my heart.

“You bought me my dream studio.”

She cries, pressing all her weight into me for support. Every few seconds, she rambles faintly. I can only make out a few things.

“… and then they laughed at me…”

“Dancing all my life…”

“… it hurt, but I knew what to do…”

I run my other hand through her hair, kissing everywhere on her head and temple. “Every ounce of hard work you put in, you deserve this.”

Her body convulses hard, rocking us both. After a while, her cries die down, replaced by hiccups and sniffs.

“Is there a bathroom up here? I need to clean up.”

I smile to myself. “There is.”

“Can you help me get my crutches?”

“Let me carry you.”

She nods. “That’s a better idea.”

I hoist her up, leveling her knee. She buries into my neck, her heated and damp face coating the skin.

The automatic lights come on, and I stop, bracing for the next reaction. Her breath hitches almost painfully. “Oh, Evin.”

I place her on the vanity, trying to lift her to face to mine. She shakes her head. “Tissue please.”

I wet a washcloth and slide it between us. “Baby.”

“Give me a minute.” Her curtain of hair hides her from view.

She swipes, then presses the cloth to her face. After a few minutes, she peers up and my heart stops. Her skin is splotchy and speckled, but her eyes are a glimmering hue of blue-green that I’d break my back to see every day of my life.

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

She twists to the mirror, frowning and tossing the cloth in the sink. “I’m a wrecked mess.”

“Never.”

Her gaze moves rapidly around the room. “This is exactly like my bathroom in Vegas.”

“I have significant memories there.”

“You did this?”

“We finished it yesterday afternoon.”

“The bathroom is what you were working on with Pierce and Miller?”

“Everything else