Page 146 of Lennox Lane

“The land is yours to build on. I know the market expansion was already in motion, but make it bigger—maybe an actual grocery store. Add the day care you talked about for parents who need to work, attend interviews, go to appointments, or volunteer without worrying about where their babies are. There’s enough land to build the emergency housing units, start the community garden, and anything else you think will best serve the community. You own the land to make it happen,” he let Lane know.

Lane’s tears came so fast she could barely see him as he turned to the next page. “There’s a development fund already seeded, meaning there’s no debt. You can get straight to the work and don’t have to deal with all the politics when the donors aren’t your friends,” he finally finished.

She shook her head as she sobbed. Nothing was pretty or graceful about the tears Lane shed. This was the crying that came when a dream stopped being something she had to beg others to pour into and became something other people helped hold up with ease. Lane tried to cover her face, but her emotions continued to pour out. Lennox pulled her into his arms, and she went without hesitation. Lane didn’t have any jokes or armor masked as witty banter. She wrapped herself around her man and cried into his chest while his arms held her steady and her best friends celebrated with her.

“You did this?” she whispered.

“We did this,” Lennox said before continuing, “I handled the building, but we all agreed to purchase the land and create the expansion fund.”

“All of you?”Lane asked, lifting her head as she looked at her friends with a wet face.

Cadence nodded. “Every day you make sure hunger is one less thing people in Stonebridge have to worry about, we’re just making sure nobody can take this from you,” she assured Lane.

KC’s voice was warm. “You’re our family, Lane. Family always puts their money where their mouth is,” he added.

“And before you say something mean to avoid feeling loved, just know you can let your guard down with us,” Tariq joined in as he wiped his eyes dramatically with a tissue.

When her tears had finally stopped, Lane reached for Lennox again, letting both hands grab his face as she kissed him everywhere she could reach—his lips, cheek, jaw, nose, neck; it didn’t matter.

“Baby,” Lennox laughed softly, holding her waist.

“No,” Kiss. “You don’t get,” Kiss. “To love me,” Kiss. “Like this,” Kiss. “And not expect me to,” Kiss. “Love on you,” Kiss. “Like this,” Kiss.

His eyes closed for a second, like every scattered kiss was undoing him. Lane pulled back just enough to look at him, hands still on his face. She stood there wondering if it was possible to fall deeper for him.

“You bought my dream a home,” she whispered.

“No,” he said, “You built the dream; we’re just making sure it has room to grow.”

Before Lane knew what was happening, everyone gathered around her and wrapped her up in a group hug. Lane laughed through the tears, allowing the warmth of love and support to surround her. She had walked into The Full Plate Project expecting disaster. Instead, she found a future where her man asked for her heart without trying to own it. Her friends had invested in her mission without trying to control it, and the building housing the project built on her pain, purpose, hunger, and hope now belonged to the community she loved.

“You’re still on my shit list for scaring me with that text,” she reminded him, making him laugh before adding, “and the daycare better have nap mats that don’t feel like prison mattresses.”

“Preschool prison is insane,” Tariq cackled.

Lane laughed as fresh tears slipped down her face and Lennox wiped them away with his thumbs. “Happy?” he asked softly.

Lane looked around the room once more, then at the man who had finally learned that loving her meant asking, not taking and standing beside her versus trying to steer and building with her instead of over her. Nothing felt better than being inside the dream she had built and the future her man had just made big enough for every possibility.

“I’m better than happy,” she said, “I’m home.”

Lennox took Lane home because the celebration wasn’t over; there were some things joy needed privacy to become. Lane barely remembered the ride back to his place, only that his hand stayed on her thigh, moving slowly. The way he kept glancing at her like she might disappear if he looked away too long made her thighs clench. By the time they made it inside, words and patience had become useless.

Lane reached for him first, needing him immediately. Lennox met her with a hunger that didn’t feel like taking, but like a path to reverie. Like two people who had been running toward each other through every bad decision, old wound, and petty get back finally arriving at the same door—healthy and happy.

They loved each other all over his house. On the wall near the entry because Lane had kissed him so X-rated that Lennox had lost what little sense he had left in the bedroom where he laid her down like something precious and made her feel chosen from crown to heel. In the shower, steam curling around them while water slipped over their skin and laughter broke through the heat when Lane threatened him for getting her hair wet after making her knees weak.

Lennox took care with Lane—every touch tender. His hands moved through the soap and water, caressing her shoulders as they eased down her arms, along her back, and across the places where life had once taught her to flinch. Lane no longer had to decide if she’d trust Lennox with her vulnerability; she leaned into it. Her palms moved over his chest and arms as she washed him in return. Lane loved exploring Lennox, committed to learning the man beneath the menace and peeling back his layers until he was stripped of the money and the myth of The Midnight Ledger.

Finally making it to bed, Lane lay wrapped in Lennox’s arms with her cheek against his chest and one leg tangled with his beneath the sheets. His skin was warm under her fingertips and his heartbeat steady. She traced lazy circles over his chest, watching her fingers move over him in the low light. The room was quiet but not empty. It was fulfilled. The kind of quiet that held everything they had survived and everything they were still becoming.

Lane looked up at him. “Robot?”

His hand moved along her spine. “Hmm?”

“Are you happy with me?” She asked.

“Happiness doesn’t do what I feel for you justice,” Lennox answered, looking down at her like the question had offended his entire soul. Then his face softened. “Happy is too small. I know God is real because He put it on your heart to love me in a way I’ve never been loved before,” Lennox said. “Not easy or blind, you love me with truth. You make me answer for myself and still leave room for me to become better. You look at the parts of me that were built in my father’s house and somehow still believe I can be more than what raised me.”