Dr. Good - A Man Who Knows What He Wants

I look out over the glittering landscape of the city, and I have to agree with her. Even after all that happened – it’s been two days since the madness with Derrick and since the sex that changed my life forever – Kayla has been able to clothe herself in optimism.

I envy her ability to let go of everything that happened.

But then again, I’ve also been able to focus on the present more lately, focus on the way Miller feels against me when we collapse into bed together, focus on his hot breath as I take the lead and ride him to a mutual shivering finish.

I push those carnal thoughts from my mind, reminding myself they’re hardly appropriate when I’m sitting with his mother.

“It is lovely,” I agree.

Her smile gets even wider, her eyes twinkling with the same quality as her pearls. “And I think it’s only going to get better.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugs, a mysterious expression shaping her features, acting like the most innocent woman in the world. “Oh, I don’t know. I suppose you’ll just have to wait and see.”

A thought arises in my mind, spiraling through me, sending tendrils of love clawing through my body. I try to remind myself to be cautious, not to let my want stampede ahead of my reason, but the thought remains.

Could this be the day?

The day my man finally tells me he loves me?

We’ve had so many moments where I felt like one of us would say it, but then at the last second, we backed out, perhaps driven by fear that the other person wouldn’t say it back.

But it’s also possible I’ve imagined Miller being close to saying it, that this is all in my head and I’m going to embarrass myself if I make the first move.

“You know you’re making no sense right now, don’t you?”

She smiles widely, flashing her teeth in a way that reminds me of Miller. “Dear, when you get to my age, you don’t have to make sense. It’s one of the privileges of being so ancient.”

“You’re not ancient,” I say passionately. “You’re… experienced.”

She raises her iced tea with a broad smile. “Yes, that sounds much better. Let’s go with that. You’re a lovely girl, Macie. I can’t tell you how glad I am you came into Miller’s life.”

Emotion swirls around me, as I sink into the feeling that I’ve finally found a home, that I finally belong after so many years of searching.

“Thank you. I’m so happy we get along. You know, it could’ve been pretty awkward otherwise…”

She chuckles. “No fear of that, dear. You’re very easy to get along with. You’re going to make a wonderful mother.”

I smile, even as a blush tries to touch my cheeks.

Normally, compliments like this would drive me to make follow-up comments, diffusing the niceties, trying to throw shade on how kind she’s being.

But after all the changes Miller has inspired within me, I don’t feel the need anymore.

I let my thoughts linger on Kayla’s comment, about how today is only going to get better.

And I hope, I dream that I’m right.

I love you, Miller, I whisper silently.

But does he love me too?

I spend the day at my laptop, typing away with a speed I’ve never reached before. It’s strange, but knowing that I can always rely on Miller, knowing he wants me for who I am, knowing I don’t have to be so freaking anxious all the time makes it so much easier to focus on my work.

I’m not sure what the connection is, but as my fingers surge across the keyboard, I’m not about to question it.

I lose myself in the story, made easier by the fact that I imagine that the giant is Miller and I’m the woman he falls in love with.

The romance is so much easier to bring to life on the page when I’ve felt it, though crazily I do have to rein it back a little because nobody would believe how quickly Miller and I fell for each other.

If we told others, they’d undoubtedly call us liars, saying that getting this close this fast is impossible.

But it’s not.

It’s achingly real.

And I’m just so freaking grateful it happened to us.

I stop when I hear the door open behind me, swiveling in the chair to find my man standing at the door. He fills the doorframe, wearing a steel-gray suit that matches the captivating color of his hair.

His dark eyes glint as they move over me, his signature smirk touching his lips.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he says, striding across the room.

Even though we’ve had sex at least half a dozen times since we first consumed each other, I can’t help but feel my body stirring passionately at the sight of him, at the closeness of him.

He stops just short of the desk, standing over me with his jaw tight, glittering silver as the late-day sunlight shafts through the window and bounces against his five o’clock shadow.