by Sarah Smith
She turns around excitedly to face me. “Oh, that’s right!” She pats my hand. “You two go on home and do that. I’ve got everything under control here.”
We thank her and promise to be back before eleven when we open. When we climb in the car, I check my watch. “It’s just past seven right now, so that means we’ve got a little over three hours to film how to prep and cook chicken adobo wings for this episode.”
The commercial Mom and I filmed for Chic TV was a hit. Viewers loved it so much that Chic offered us a contract to film a dozen cooking videos to feature on their website this year. The only catch is that we have to film them all this month so the network can edit them and release them according to their strict production schedule. It means we’re waking up early every morning this month to prep and film before working our regular shifts at the restaurant. Last episode Mom and I cooked together, but with how busy the restaurant has been, I’m doing today’s shoot on my own. Sometimes when Mom doesn’t feel like being on camera, I’ll make Callum film with me. It’s a hectic schedule to keep, but the exposure is awesome. We get customers from all over raving about our webisodes.
But it’s even better because it’s one more thing Callum and I can do together.
He starts the engine and makes the quick drive back to the condo. “Don’t forget, we’ve got to plan the menu for our next dinner service at Travaasa in a couple of weeks.”
I set a reminder in my phone.
“Ted will have my head if we forget him in the midst of all this other stuff we’ve got going on,” Callum says.
“No way would I ever forget Ted. He gave me my first big break, and I plan to cook for him until he gets sick of me.”
“That won’t be happening anytime soon, petal. The guests at the resort love the dinners we serve. There hasn’t been an empty table on any of the nights we’ve hosted.”
Callum parks the car and shuts the engine off. He unbuckles his seat belt and leans over to kiss me. “I can’t believe I get to marry a famous chef.”
I nibble his bottom lip. “Believe it.”
He chuckles and we climb out of the car. Lulu scampers up to us and rubs against our legs the moment we walk into the condo. Lemon looks up from her sitting spot on the arm of the couch, then goes back to napping. Callum scoops Lulu up and greets her with scratches under the chin.
I turn around and nearly “aww” out loud at the adorable sight of sexy, muscular, masculine Callum cuddling our cat.
“You need to stop taunting me like that,” I say, pressing myself into him.
“Taunting you? How?”
He looks genuinely confused, and it makes my heart squeeze. He still has no idea just how sexy he is on the inside and out. And it makes me crazy in the best way.
He sets Lulu back down on the floor and pulls me into his arms.
“You’re just . . . I’m so lucky you’re mine,” I say.
We partake in another filthy, sloppy kiss, only this time nothing interrupts us. When we finally stop to breathe, he slowly peels his mouth from mine.
“No one on earth is luckier than me,” he says.
Inside I’m burning, which translates to some hard-core blushing on the outside. He cups my cheek with his hand.
“Let’s push pause on all this hot flattery talk and pick back up later,” I say. “We’ve got a camera crew coming over.”
* * *
• • •
Callum looks up from his laptop to me. “Naomi from Chic TV said our last cooking video was a hit. More than a thousand views the first morning it was up.”
He sets the laptop on the coffee table, then swipes up the remote control and flips on the TV.
I plop down next to him while holding a pink champagne bottle. “I think we deserve something special to drink for that.”
It’s nine at night, which means with work and filming, we’ve been going nonstop for fifteen hours. Now it’s time to unwind with our favorite pastime: sipping champagne while watching reruns of The Office.
I hand him the bottle. “So you’re going with the American version tonight. Interesting.”
He smiles at my teasing tone before tapping his bottle against mine. We take a sip at the same time.
“It’s grown on me,” he says.
We cuddle together, silent and content as we watch. Soon Lemon walks across the couch to his lap. He scratches under her chin.
“Just like old times,” I say, thinking back to our first “pink champagne while watching The Office” date when we were hooking up in secret.
Callum twists his head to look at me and wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer. “This is better than old times,” he says.
“Really?”
He nods before slinking his hand over mine, then thumbs the diamond of my ring. “It is. We’re official now. You’re my fiancée and I can be affectionate with you whenever I want. We live together, which means we can do this whenever we want.”
Lulu lets out a squeaky yawn from the other end of the couch.
“And we have double the number of cats we used to, so this is definitely a million times better,” I say.
He lets out a laugh that spooks both Lemon and Lulu from the couch. They scurry down the hall.
Again he pulls me into a kiss that’s so powerful and intoxicating, it leaves me dizzy. When his hazel-green eyes lock with mine, I feel like I’m free-falling into an abyss I never, ever want to climb out of.
“I love everything about this,” he says, his voice that beautiful mix of a growl and a whisper.
“Me too,” I whisper, gazing up at him.
I was wrong before when I said that our playful early mornings were my favorite. Everything I do with Callum is my favorite.
I burrow closer against his body, giddy that I get to call Callum James mine forever. “You. This. Everything. It’s all I ever wanted. You make me the happiest.”
My throat squeezes as I say the last word. But the ache is welcome. It’s every emotion I feel for Callum pulsing inside of me.
He squeezes me tighter, and I sigh in satisfaction.
“Petal,” he says, his own voice full of emotion. “You stole the words right out of my mouth.”
Acknowledgments
The tough part about writing acknowledgments is that words are never enough to express just how thankful I am to everyone who helped make this book possible. But words are all I have, so I’ll give it a try!
Thank you, Lexi Banner. You are more than a beta reader; you are a superhuman alpha reader whose feedback helps take my early drafts from dumpster fire to readable manuscript. I heart you.
To Skye McDonald, a million thanks (and glasses of whiskey) are owed to you for trudging through that messy early draft. All the red lipstick kisses to you, lady.
Stefanie Simpson, thank you for your friendship and support. I was so unsure about this story, but your feedback gave me confidence. I can never thank you enough for that.
D. F. Bowstrong, thanks for helping Callum sound like a real person and not a caricature. I bloody owe you one.
Thank you, J. L. Peridot, for your insight and your lovely words. They motivated me so much.
Thank you to the best agent on the planet, Sarah Younger (and your amazing interns!), for your never-ending support.
Thank you to my editor, Sarah Blumenstock, for helping make Simmer Down into the story it is today (and for thinking of that killer title).
To my husband, thank you for being my biggest cheerleader and believing in me always. I’m lucky to have you.
To my friends and family, thank you for loving me and being proud of me.
Thank you, Mom, for the memory of writing this book while I stayed with you. That time was a gift and I’ll cherish it forever. I hope I did Maui justice for you.
And last but never, ever least, thanks to all
of you who bought and read this book. It means everything to me that you enjoy reading my words.
Photo by Daniel Muller
Sarah Smith is a copywriter turned author who wants to make the world a lovelier place, one kissing story at a time. Her love of romance began when she was eight and she discovered her auntie’s stash of romance novels. She’s been hooked ever since. When she’s not writing, you can find her hiking, eating chocolate, and perfecting her lumpia recipe. She lives in Bend, Oregon, with her husband and her adorable cat, Salem.
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