I grinned to myself and finished my sandwich.

When all was said and done, another woman and I had received the highest praise on the hot chicken. She’d also gotten a good review on the rest of the food, but bottom line, aside from my shitty sides, I’d fucking nailed this.

As long as nobody ever asked me to repeat everything and expect the same results, I was good.

August thanked the participants and the audience for showing up, after which Clara announced that he was gonna take a quick break and then come back to sign books. And in a second, a bunch of people from the audience started forming a line at the entrance to the deck and fishing out their cookbooks from their bags.

“Anthony, you can come with me,” August said in passing. “I have some pointers for you so you can make a better mac and cheese.”

Fuck yeah.

I followed him across the deck toward the tent in the back, assuming pointers for mac and cheese was subtle talk for something much better. If he did give me pointers, I’d consider kicking his ass.

The tent was the size of my first apartment, with the exception that this festival tent didn’t have a toilet—or a shower hose attached to the sink, for that matter.

As soon as we were alone, he knocked my ball cap off with a flick of his fingers, pulled me close, and kissed me hard.

I smiled and locked my arms around his neck.

He felt so damn good against me. He kissed me passionately, managing to seduce me in seconds, and it was fucking with my ability to function. Our chemistry was already gonna make it difficult to leave in a week. Regardless of how close we got physically, I wanted to get closer.

“What’re your plans now?” He slowed down the kiss and nipped at my bottom lip.

“Food. I’m here to eat.” I cupped his face in my hands and stole a deep, hungry kiss. “I wanna know what my boundaries are with Camden and bringing him here.”

“Here to the festival?” he asked. I nodded. “No boundaries at all. He’s the one who’s too cautious about being seen in public when he’s a Little. He thinks I have fans waitin’ around every corner. I don’t.” He kissed me again and teased his tongue along mine. “For the record, Anthony, he and I are not married.”

I furrowed my brow and eased back a little.

He shook his head. “I knew his thoughts on marriage early on—he’s not a fan. But after we’d been together a couple years, he proposed an eternal engagement.”

I smiled and touched his cheek. “Eternal is a nice word.”