He finishes with a soft kiss on the inside of each thigh. When he looks up at me, that smug smile remains.

“You were saying something about breakfast?”

•   •   •

Breakfast was a mistake.

Breakfast, which was a relaxed full English at his favorite pub in Marylebone, hooked me. Callum in his hometown is downright charming. Conversation flowed easily, and I didn’t want it to end.

So it didn’t.

We took a walk at Hyde Park, then stopped at a bakery for almond croissants, then he offered to show me around Marylebone the rest of the day. And I couldn’t say no. Because who the hell could say no to a hot English guy who’s dynamite in bed, an excellent meal companion, and who looks at me like I’m the only woman on his radar?

And that’s exactly why I’m sitting across from Callum in the supposedly delicious Max’s Sandwich Shop, which looks more like a hipster dive bar.

An animated, mad scientist–looking guy in glasses nods at us from behind the counter, then takes our order. We grab a table for two in the corner.

“You’re going to love the ham, egg, and chips sandwich,” Callum says. “It’s Finn’s favorite.”

“Is that what inspired the ham, egg, and chip toasty on your menu?”

He whips his head around to peer at the counter, which is empty.

“The guy who took our order headed back to the kitchen,” I say. “Is everything okay?”

“I just didn’t want him to overhear and think I’m stealing his recipes. He might ban us from eating here, and then I’d never be able to eat the greatest sandwich ever made again.”

I roll my eyes. “Come on. It can’t be that good.”

“Just wait.”

“Honestly, the sandwich you serve is amazing. Your idea to put a layer of fries between the ham and the egg is mind blowing.”

“That was Finn’s idea actually. And you’ve eaten our food?”

Heat crawls up my cheeks. “It was a moment of weakness.”

He narrows his eyes at me.

“Okay, fine. I wanted to know what I was up against, so I asked one of our customers to order food from your truck and bring it to me. Want to know why I despised you for so long? Because one bite of that sandwich and I knew we were in trouble. You and your brother serve incredible food.”

The grin he lets loose is so sweet, it borders on boyish. “I’ll be sure to tell Finn,” he says.

I cross my arms, fighting to keep my pout from being too obvious. But then Callum leans across the table and grabs my hand. He laces his fingers through mine, and I forget to breathe.

“Your food is mind-blowing, Nikki.”

I pick at a loose thread in my jacket. “What dishes have you tried?”