I press against the front of his shorts and lick my lips at the hard feel. Mischief dances across his face. Any awkwardness from the moment prior is gone. We’re back to playful and horny.

“What would you like?” he growls.

I scrunch up my face in mock indecisiveness. “What are my options?”

He leans down, softly pressing his lips to my neck. “Anything and everything,” he whispers.

My answer is wordless. It’s just me tugging him by the shirt to get his mouth to mine. After a minute of rabid kissing, I finally voice my request. “Your bed. Now.”

In a split second, Callum bends down and tosses me over his shoulder. He heads in the direction of his bedroom. On the way, he slides his hands up my shorts, squeezing a palmful of my ass. I squeal and giggle.

“Whatever you say, petal.”

•   •   •

I dunk another basket of lumpia into the fryer, unable to wipe the smile from my face. It’s only been two days since Callum and I last hooked up, but our meetups have become my own personal sexy rewards program. Bust my ass during the day, act professional around all these customers, then when evening falls, I treat myself to a naked Callum making me howl into the wee hours of the morning.

One downside to my secret hookups? Lying to my mom about what I did in London and what I do with my free nights now. And where I’ve taken Lemon. Thankfully, she’s bought the lie that I’ve made some new friends who are curious to see what owning a cat would be like and want to try it out before making a final decision.

Leaning out the window, I hand the baskets to the waiting customers and see the napkin dispenser that’s usually on the ledge is now missing. Looking up, I spot Callum leaning out of his food truck to hand off an order. Then he catches my eye and winks. I turn away quickly before anyone can see me smile.

The missing napkin dispenser is payback for when I swiped all the malt vinegar bottles from the ledge of his food truck yesterday. Despite our secret hookup arrangement, we still have appearances to keep up. After a couple weeks of acting civil to each other, we realized customers would eventually notice our sudden change in behavior—and probably post about it online. And if the Maui Food Festival organizer caught wind of my and Callum’s new arrangement, we’d both be disqualified from the contest. So every few days we resume some small-scale form of fake fighting. I adore it. It’s a whole new form of flirting between us.