He bites his lip, the smile deep in his eyes. “You’d make a disgustingly bad sub anyway. Although the gag is a very appealing thought.”

I laugh and drain my drink, motioning to his. “Come on. We’re going to order some more drinks. We might even order another dessert just to be really decadent. And for each cocktail we drink, we have to share an embarrassing story from our past.”

He groans but the twinkle in his eyes gives him away. So that’s what we do. We eat and drink and laugh until the waitresses are yawning and putting up chairs on tables. And I’m never once bored. The thought scares me because my feelings are already so strong for this man. Although looking at his face full of laughter, those kind eyes, and his hot body, I know I’m going to go full steam ahead anyway.

Chapter Eleven

Zeb

The knock on the door makes my stomach fill with butterflies but it doesn’t make me slow down in my rush to answer it. Just the knowledge that Jesse is on the other side makes my pace pick up.

I fling open the door and grin at him. “Somehow I thought that when I specified thirties dress you’d still come in that Sesame Street T-shirt.”

He grins at me, his smile wide and white. “Sesame Street wasn’t around in the thirties.” He pauses. “Or was it? You’d know, being a child of that era.”

He saunters past me, squawking when I grab and kiss him. He relaxes against me and for a few minutes I lose track of time. When I put him away from me, his eyes are heavy-lidded, and I can feel my lips tingling. “Hello,” I whisper.

He steps closer and hugs me. “Hello,” he says with a smile. It’s powerful at such close range, and I swallow hard before stepping back.

“You look great,” I say hoarsely. He’s wearing a white shirt with a dickie bow, grey flannel trousers, and braces. His hair is pulled back loosely in a high topknot.

He grins. “Do you like the shoes? Charlie and I found them in a vintage shop in Islington.”

I smile down at the two-tone brogues. “They’re fantastic.”

“Never mind me,” he says slowly. “Look at you.”

I shrug, feeling suddenly awkward. “You like?”

He nods, slowly walking round me, examining the pinstripe suit, white shirt, and black tie.

“You look gorgeous,” he says and unselfconsciously rearranges the bulge in his trousers. “Tell me you’ve got a hat.”

I grin and reach for the black fedora on the side table and put it on, tilting it at a rakish angle.

“If I hadn’t instituted a no-sex ban, I would so fuck you right at this moment,” he breathes.