that one service we had together. I don’t want it to be our last.”
He beams and says he accepts.
My hand falls from his body to the string of my bikini bottom. I tug it loose, and the fabric on one side falls away. “Besides, now that we’re not working close to each other anymore, I want every opportunity to see you. Cooking together at Travaasa meets that requirement.”
Callum takes the other string in his hand and pulls, freeing my lower half of all fabric. “So what will we whip up, Chef Nikki? Some British-Filipino fusion dish that will blow everyone away?”
“Maybe.” Sliding my arms around his neck, I wag my eyebrows at him.
We stand completely naked, but I’ve never felt warmer. It’s the heat of Callum’s body, the reassurance of his words, the look in his eyes.
With his hands cupping my face, he leans in for another kiss. It’s softer this time, but still teasing, still tantalizing, still full of feeling.
“What do you have in mind?” he says, his whisper skimming across my lips.
“Hmm. Let’s see. We could do a mash-up of blood sausage and dinuguan, this really yummy dish made with pork blood.”
Callum hugs me tight against him. “Sounds interesting.”
“Or we could have a fry fest. Throw in a few lumpia or turon with a basket of fish-and-chips. Voilà. Fusion food like you’ve never tasted before.”
Chuckling, he takes me by the hand and leads me to the water. He twists his head at me. “I don’t care what we cook. I’ll do anything as long as it’s with you.”
“Really? Even let me name all of Lemon’s kittens ridiculously cute names?”
He mock frowns. “How ridiculously cute?”
“Like, so cute it hurts. I want to name the gray one Lulu, the white one Chowder, and the gray-and-white one Sushi.”
His head falls back as he laughs. “Almost all food names. Brilliant.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “Yes to all of them.”
Inside my chest swells. I wait until we’re in waist-deep water, then press my body against his. His hands fall to my waist, and I wrap my legs around his lower half, letting the salt water current make me practically weightless.
A wave hits us, and we tumble under. But Callum’s got me, his hold tight, secure. The biggest wave could hit us and I wouldn’t budge. I’m in his arms, the safest place I could ever be. As I grip onto him, he pushes us above the surface and we take identical gasps of air. We open our eyes, sputtering and laughing at once.
I cough on a gulp of salt water that managed to seep into my mouth. With the back of my hand, I wipe my mouth, then kiss Callum once more.
“You taste salty,” I say.
He laughs. “You do too.”
“I love salt.”
He squints down at me, the eager look in his eyes as bright as the sun against the horizon. “Do you?”
I nod. “I didn’t used to.”
In my head and in my heart, everything is different, and I’m overcome at the joy of it all. I press my shaky hands against Callum’s warm, wet skin. I still. Instant calm. Instant home.
I lick my lips. Salt in the air, in the water, on me, on Callum. It dances on our tongues. As I breathe in, the delicious burn sets in. Still I want more.
Leaning up, I lick his lips.
“Funny how things change,” he says.
He captures me in a kiss. Still so much salt. Still so good.
“It really is.”
Epilogue
One Year Later
What did I tell you about the walk-in?” Callum hovers over me, his toned chest lifting slightly with the gentle breath he takes.
“I don’t remember.” I take a step forward until we’re chest to chest and squint up at him.
For a second all he does is frown, but then the corner of his mouth lifts up in the naughtiest smirk. “Liar.”
I shrug, biting my lip to keep from cracking. We’ve played this game before so many times—in person, on the phone, over text. He always, always knows when I’m full of it. And I love it.
It’s hell trying to keep a straight face when he calls me out. This little game we play is my favorite thing about the crazy early mornings we pull nowadays. I absolutely loathe the 6 a.m. daily wake-up time of this past month, but I love this part.
Even though we’re standing in this restaurant walk-in refrigerator and the temperature is just a few degrees above freezing, the heat radiating from Callum’s body warms mine. He wags his