Dr. Good by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Seventeen

Macie

“This place is amazing,” I murmur, as Miller pulls out my chair for me.

Our table is on the upper balcony, a private area separated from the rest of the restaurant by a curtain, half-pulled right now so the waiters can come and take our order. Beneath us, the ballroom-style restaurant expands massively, with chandeliers glittering from the ceilings and a large stage where a jazz band plays soft ambient music.

“It used to be a theater,” Miller says as he walks around to his chair.

He looks dashing and powerful in his dark suit, his shirt open at the top to reveal a preview of his sculpted flesh. My body is still hot from all the craziness in the car, the banter and the emotion and the magic of it all, but it gets even hotter when he unbuttons his suit jacket, revealing the way his shirt clings onto his rocky abs.

“Yeah, I can tell,” I say, forcing my attention back to our conversation so I’m not just ogling him. “It’s really beautiful.”

He smirks, and I know what he’s going to say before he says it.

“Nah uh.” I giggle. “No cheesy lines, thank you very much.”

“What?” he says, laughing.

“You were going to say not as beautiful as you, right?”

I can’t believe I can summon the confidence to make this sort of assertion, to tell him that he was going to call me beautiful. I expect him to laugh at me, to call me deranged, to tell me I need to stop letting a few compliments flood my mind with confidence.

But instead, he chuckles and nods. “I told you, Macie. You can read me like a book.”

“Sir, madam,” the waiter says, appearing at the edge of our table like he freaking teleported.

He has a British accent and stands stiff-backed, proper in the extreme.

“Would you like to start with some drinks?”

“Sure.” Miller nods. “I’ll take an orange soda.”

The waiter turns to me. “And for the madam?”

“I’ll have the same,” I tell him.

“And we’ll need some time with the menus.”

“Of course, sir.”

The waiter bows and retreats.

“You could’ve ordered something stronger if you want to,” I tell Miller, once we’re alone again.

“I’ve never been much of a drinker.” He shrugs. “And anyway, you could’ve ordered something too. You’re twenty-one.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never been much of a drinker either. My aunt… well, I don’t want to speak ill of the dead. But the fact is she had a bit of a drinking problem. I guess a lot of people do in her socialite circle. She used to have a big glass of whiskey at two in the afternoon sometimes. I’m not judging her for it. But…”

“But you don’t want to be the same,” he says quietly, with understanding heavy in his voice.

“Exactly.”

“You don’t have to be ashamed of that,” he says. “You can still love a person, miss them, even if you didn’t like everything they did when they were alive.”

I smile, and then my smile grows wider and it’s like I’m going crazy.

My man – my man – chuckles. “What?” he asks.

“It’s just you, Miller. You’ve got this habit of describing exactly what I’m thinking. It’s scary. But scary-good.”

“Oh, really? I was looking forward to being scary-bad.”

I giggle and then the waiter brings our drinks, placing down the cleanest glasses I’ve ever seen, so they sparkle more than the chandeliers.

I turn to the menu, my eyes scanning the cuisine.

And then my belly rumbles.

A blush shoots up my neck and over my cheeks, my heart hammering with shame.

“I’m so sorry,” I say.

Miller narrows his eyes at me. “That’s it. I’m keeping a tally.”

“What do you mean?”

“Every time you say the s word, you get spanked.”

“What, sorry?”

He grins like a beast. “There’s one.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” I laugh.

“Not even a little bit. You have nothing to apologize for. Goddamn, so you’re belly rumbled. Who cares?”

“It’s not exactly the sort of thing a woman does on a date, is it?”

“I’m not interested in what random women do on dates, Macie. I’m interested in what you do on a date.”

“So you’re saying my rumbling belly turns you on, is that it?”

The sassy remark comes without me having time to think about it, to second-guess it, but right away I can’t believe I just said that.

“Damn right,” Miller says, chuckling.

And then it’s like I remember.

I don’t have to be ashamed. I don’t have to be self-conscious.

With Miller, I can just be.

“So what got your belly rumbling, eh?”

There’s a flurry inside of me when he says this, a whispering voice telling me he’s mocking me, but then I push that aside and I focus on what’s really happening instead.

We’re having fun. He’s teasing me playfully.

This is the sort of thing couples do.

“I was looking at the gourmet burgers,” I admit. “I know you’re supposed to order something super fancy when you come to a place like this, but these look absolutely delicious. I was thinking of ordering the flame-grilled barbecue one.”

“So do it,” Miller says. “In fact, that sounds delicious. I’ll get the same.”

“But then I was thinking…”

“Hmm?” he says when I trail off.

“Well, you don’t exactly want me stuffing a burger into my mouth when we’re on a date.”

“That’s another spank.”

“What?” I giggle in delight. “But I didn’t say the S-word.”

“Yeah, but you’re making excuses for being you, and in my mind, that’s the same damn thing. I told you before, Macie. I want you to be you. Whatever that means, that’s what I want. Because – and I know this is cheesy, but it’s the goddamn truth – you’re perfect the way you are. So, two burgers?”

I smile as his words whisper over me, making my skin tingle warmly, making every part of me light up with the confident assurances in his tone.

“Yes, that sounds nice.”

Miller gestures for the waiter and makes the order, and then he turns to me with that look he has, that way he has of gazing into me as though nothing else exists, as though a war could break out in the restaurant below and he wouldn’t even care as long as he could still gaze at me.

It makes me feel seen in a way I’ve never experienced before, always drifting through life as the invisible girl.

“Tell me about your book, Macie.”

I shrug. “I’m only a few chapters into it.”

“I don’t care if you’re one word into it. It’s your passion and I want to hear about it.”

I smile. I think I’m starting to get the message now.

Miller wants me for me, but it’s not like I can flick a switch and suddenly accept that. Even so, I have to try and stop these unfair sentiments from swirling through me, caging me inside a prison of self-consciousness.

Maybe with Miller, I can just be, for the first time in my life.

“It’s a fantasy romance about a woman who falls in love with a rare breed of a giant. They’re human-sized, but they still have the features of a giant. And, in this world, giants are used as servants and it’s forbidden for her to be with him. So they have to meet in secret… and I’m also trying to work in a plot about them helping this secret rebel organization, but it’s getting a little messy… what?”

I trail off as his smirk grows wider and wider.

“Nothing,” he says. “It’s just amazing to see how passionate you get when you talk about your work. Have you written much, then? When did you start?”

“I don’t normally talk about myself.”

“I don’t normally decide to make a stranger the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t normally feel like said stranger is casting a love spell on me. But here we are.”

“A love spell.” I laugh. “Maybe that’s something I should include in my book.”

“Maybe,” he says, his voice suddenly intense. “But the thing is, Macie, I didn’t need a spell to…”

Suddenly something crashes below us, and then a few people cheer and a few others make posh tsk noises.

I peer down to see a waiter has dropped something, his shirt covered in dark red sauce.

I turn back to Miller, desperate for him to finish what he was going to say.

Was he going to say he loves me, the same way I love him?

Even if it’s impossible.

Even if it makes us crazy.

But the moment has passed, and then our food is here.