Chicho put her light jacket back on the hook and, after a beat, smiled brightly. “It’s crazy over here tonight. You all go, and I’ll see you back tonight, Liza.”

Park put his arm around Liza and pulled her into the night.

Within five minutes, Dorsey settled in the back oF the town car next to Liza. Dorsey reached over her to finesse a missing seat belt strap out of a crevice. Liza didn’t bring her jacket. She was either a notorious underdresser or she meant to torture him all night. If he looked down at this moment, he would be achingly close to her mouth. He couldn’t feel any puffs of air on his neck, so he knew she was holding her breath. Just two inches and a mile of courage separated his face from the graceful hollow of her neck. He wanted to kiss her there. Would she taste like cinnamon and sugar? Finally, he pulled the strap across her, and he saw her exhale shakily when his knuckles grazed her nipples, pressing out prominently through the fabric of the shirt.

“First things first: I’m sensitive to smells. Did you find out what was still smelling like horseshit?” Dorsey whispered, even though they were the only people in the car.

“I took my bra off just to be safe.” Liza kept her eyes on him. Dorsey looked down again at her hardened nipples—that red wine stain spread out over her taut peaks.

His throat went dry.

Park was saying his elaborate goodbyes, and, God help him, Dorsey wanted to ditch his friend. He’d begged this man to make the four-hour trip from New York to DC. Now Park has designated himself “bad cop,” and his only plan is cock-blocking Dorsey.

His voice was thick with desire. “I’m glad you took the proper precautions.”

Park opened the door to the town car and smiled. “Y’all ready for some proper food?”

Dorsey and Liza both nodded vigorously.

“My tongue was in jail,” Liza said.

“My spirit left my body,” Dorsey complained.

“I know a cry for help when I hear one,” Park said. “What stores are still open?”

Dorsey sighed. He wanted food, especially Park’s food, but not more than he wanted Liza alone in his bed.

Fifteen minutes later, they stopped at a grocery store and raided the aisles. Liza rolled her basket down the aisles and raced with Park to find the ingredients he listed. Dorsey laughed along with them. He wished he could make her laugh like that.

Liza counted all the items in the basket, carefully switching out Park’s ingredients for items on sale. “What are we making, Park?”

Park slapped her hands when she reached for his expensive rice. “Woman, don’t mess with a chef’s rice. We’re making arroz caldo.”

Liza gave up her item swapping with an eye roll. “What is it? Rice something?” Liza asked.