Page 89 of Third Time Lucky

‘Chocolate cheesecake with fire-roasted homemade marshmallow topping,’ he says, opening the box to reveal a stack of marshmallows he made.

‘You made marshmallows from scratch?’

‘Yep, and we’re roasting them first.’

‘Smore’s cheesecake!?’ I ask, absolutely giddy over this.

‘S’mores cheesecake, exactly.’

He skewers a marshmallow onto a metal roasting stick and hands it my way before making one for himself. We hold them over the flames as they sizzle and turn golden brown while we rotate them over the intense heat. The fire licks at the edges, leaving behind a smoky trail.

‘I haven’t done this since I was a kid.’

‘Me either,’ he says, pulling his flaming marshmallow from the fire. He blows it out, then carefully slides it from the skewer and onto the top of one of the cheesecakes, handing it to me.

I exchange my roasting stick for the dessert, and he does the same to the second one.

‘Are you ready for the big reveal?’ he asks nervously, offering me a fork.

As if he needs to be nervous – the man is a culinary master. I take a bite, and my taste buds are met with an explosion of flavors – the sweetness of the chocolate perfectly balanced with the slight crunch of the graham cracker and the gooey marshmallow topping. Sweet baby Jesus, it’s heavenly.

‘Wow,’ I manage to say with my mouth full. ‘You have truly outdone yourself, sir.’

I can’t help but chuckle at his genuine surprise. The man may be a master chef, but he still has moments of self-doubt like the rest of us.

He takes a bite, exhaling contentedly. ‘Holy shit, I really did.’ His gaze is curious as he shoots a look my way, a slight smirk creeping up on his face. ‘Would you say it’s… orgasmic?’

‘Oh my gosh, I should have known that would come back to bite me!’ I say with a laugh.

‘Curious minds want to know…’ he teases.

I take another bite, closing my eyes and nodding my head. ‘Toe. Curling,’ I confirm.

He smiles wide – clearly proud of himself.

‘Tell me something I don’t know about you,’ I say, changing the subject.

He laughs, knowing exactly what I’m doing.

‘Hmmm. Something you don’t know,’ he says, tilting his head as he thinks it over. ‘After high school, I went into the CIA.’

I shoot him a glance. ‘The CIA?’

‘The Culinary Institute of America, in the heart of Napa Valley.’

I laugh at his clever wordplay, shaking my head in amusement.

‘You had me going there for a second,’ I admit, taking another bite of the delicious cake he crafted.

He grins mischievously, clearly pleased with his little joke. ‘Well, a little mystery adds flavor to life, don’t you think?’

‘Mitzi says something like that.’

‘I never asked why you live with her?’ he questions.

‘After Vegas, she had a very small TIA that I blame myself for because of all the chaos.’

He lifts an eyebrow.

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