"I wanted to surprise you."
She kissed him on the mouth, on the cheeks, on the nose, and on the forehead, unable to stop the happiness from bubbling out. "You're the best."
He set her away from him and framed her face with his hands. "Then, let me give you the money to keep the shelter open."
As if doused with cold water, she exhaled heavily. Her mother had always taken pleasure in reminding her of her failures. She wanted to succeed on her own. While her mother was dead and she had no one to prove herself to, she still set out to obtain her dream and succeed at helping others.
"If I borrow money from you, I have no way of paying it back. The shelter doesn't bring in enough money, which is part of my problem." She inhaled deeply. "I just need to find—"
"What's the difference between taking a grant from the state and taking money from me?"
"I'm running a non-profit. I wouldn't have to pay back the grant." She shook her head. "I have no way of paying you back."
He tipped back his head and laughed. The deep sound of amusement was so startling coming from him, she couldn't even think of a response. She gawked.
"Bree, what do you think I do? I'm an investor. I know you've read the articles about me." He smoothed her hair off her face.
She pursed her lips. He dealt with a lot more money than she'd ever see in a lifetime.
"You can't make money off a shelter," she insisted.
He sobered. "Do you trust me?"
"Of course." She put her hand on his chest. "But do you trust me?"
"That's why I'm offering the money." His voice lowered. "I've seen you with those you're helping. You have reliable employees. Your only downfall is you're running a non-profit organization. It puts your back against the wall. Your funding comes from donations and grants. It's not your fault that money isn't flowing in your direction. I can give you money that you can pay back, if that's what you want to do—though I'll put it right into an account for you, so I don't know why you're fighting me on this."
She sighed. "But how would I make money? I can't and won't ask the homeless to spend money to use the shelter. That defeats what I'm doing."
He leaned forward and kissed her softly. "That's why I'm an investor. Let me find the way to make you money."
She raked her teeth over her bottom lip. He made it sound easy.
"I showed you where I came from tonight." He cupped the back of her head, forcing her to look at him. "You know the comfort of where we sleep. Let me make you money so you can follow your dream."
God, his proposal sounded so tempting. As much as she wanted the West-Central Homeless Shelter to thrive, she knew that if she reopened the doors, it would only operate on a month-to-month basis.
With Serge backing her financially, if she could turn a profit to guarantee that it would keep the doors open, she would help so many people—people like him and kids like Sia.
"Okay." She exhaled a shuddering breath. "I'll let you help me."
He kissed her hard while her head continued spinning over everything that'd happened today. "We'll get started first thing in the morning. You'll have the doors open tomorrow night."
She grabbed him, slowing him down. "Why? Why would you help me?"
He cupped her face in his hands. "Because I wish someone would've helped me when I was young, before it was too late. I never would've turned out this way."
"Don't say that." She shook her head. "I love you for who you are."
He kissed her again. "Let's go home."
"Home." She stepped over to the Harley. "I've been thinking. Maybe I should rent out my house since I'm rarely there. It's paid for. I could even use the income and invest more into the shelter."
"Now you're thinking." He sat on the Harley. "Get on, let's go."
"Okay. Okay. What's your hurry?" She climbed up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Because I want to see your round ass in front of me, instead of behind me." He started the motorcycle, cutting off her laughter.
