“It’s good, but not as good as the second.”

He stood before me, his arms folded. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it. Now we move onto my béarnaise sauce recipe. I’ll make mini-steaks to go with it.” He tried to take my plate, but I pushed his hands away.

“Hey! I’m not finished yet.”

Lee chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “No need to bite my head off. I just thought you might get full.”

“Ha! I’m a cop. I’m never full.”

“This is true. I should see about frying you up some donuts.”

I narrowed my gaze, still chewing. “Don’t be a dick.”

“You want my dick? Whoa, ease up there, serg. I’m not a piece of meat.” His cheeky wink held pure mischief as he bent to pull a pot out of the cupboard.

I scowled playfully at his comment, slightly annoyed by how easily he could get to me, and honestly, feeling a little turned on now that he’d switched up the conversation. I watched as he began melting butter in a saucepan and adding shallots. Already the smell was heavenly, and he hadn’t even put in the other ingredients yet. When he got some melted butter on his thumb, he stuck it in his mouth to suck it off, and without even realising it, I was clenching my thighs at the visual. When the steam made him too hot, he lifted his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow, exposing his abs. I swear, if anyone ever decided to make a cookery show about Lee, they’d get top ratings.

I put down my empty plate and took a sip of water. Yes, because I was thirsty, but also because I was too warm.

“The sauce looks great,” I told him, and he glanced up.

“Yeah? You should come over again tomorrow. I’m makin’ a Ruby Murray.”

“Oh, my God, you’re such a Cockney sometimes.” I mock-cringed.

Lee grinned impishly. “You don’t like it?”

“Danny Dyer doesn’t really do it for me.”

“You lie. All the ladies love a bit of the Danny. They want him to take them down the rub-a-dub and dip his Hampton Wick in their Morris Minors.”

I almost wheezed, I laughed so hard. “That’s truly awful. Please don’t ever talk dirty to me in Cockney again. It’ll put me off sex for life.”

Lee was laughing too, his face handsome as he raised his hands. “Okay, understood. We wouldn’t want to put you off sex.”

“And why’s that?” I asked, suddenly feeling flirtatious.

“Because you get the orgasm version of hangry. If I don’t make you come, you’re in a right mood.”

“Shut up! That’s not true.”

“Happened a few times, Snap,” he asserted teasingly.

“Oh, you’re a little liar.” My expression showed my annoyance, and he looked pleased as punch that he was riling me. Clearly, that had been his intention all along.

After we ate the mini steaks, and I told Lee which version of his béarnaise recipe I preferred, he grabbed two beers from the fridge and brought me upstairs where there was a rooftop terrace. It was only a two-story building, so you couldn’t exactly see for miles, but it was still nice. The weather was mild, and the sky was starting to darken.

Lee popped open the bottles, handed one to me, and took a long swig of his own. We sat side by side on folding chairs, our feet propped up on an old wooden bench.

“I like it here,” I said, breaking the quiet.

“Yeah? I’m gonna get some of those funky coloured lights and hang them over the fencing, set up a few outdoor heaters and get some deck furniture. Make a nice little outdoor dining area.”

“Sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into it.”

“If you’re gonna do something, might as well do it right,” said Lee, tipping his bottle to mine.

“I’ll drink to that.”

We sat in quiet for a few minutes, letting the nighttime city noises wash over us. Lee had pulled his chair up close to mine, so our shoulders were only inches apart.

My hair was up in a ponytail and my old T-shirt hung lazily off one shoulder. I was vaguely aware of a feathery sensation before realising it was Lee’s lips brushing just below my hairline. Letting out a low sigh, I tilted my head farther to the side to grant him more access.

“You know I love you, right?” he whispered, shocking me out of my reverie. My heart pounded, and I momentarily lost the ability to breathe. He’d told me he loved me once, while drunk beyond belief, but this was different. This time I knew it was true. Emotion clogged my throat, blocking my voice, and I felt wetness prick at my eyes.

“I know,” I finally managed to whisper.

“I understand if you can’t say it back yet. I just wanted to tell you how I feel.”

Involuntarily my mouth dropped open as I stared him. How could he ever think I didn’t feel just as strongly for him as he did for me?

“Lee,” I said, my voice scratchy, “I know I never admitted it, but I started falling for you a long time ago. It was impossible not to.”

I saw him hesitate, his face stoic as he watched me. I knew what he was waiting for. He needed me to say the words. After a moment that felt like forever, I managed to muster the courage.

“I love you, too,” I said, and he reached over to caress my cheek.

“Yeah?” he asked, his eyes searching mine like I might change my mind between one second and the next.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

In quick succession, he took both our bottles and set them down on the bench. Then he was back, his mouth devouring my neck, kissing and nipping in a way that sent tremors throughout my entire body. How was it that a few carefully placed kisses could reduce me to a quivering, breathless pile of need?