Branson chuckles. “Oh, I have plenty of ideas—”
A waiter appears from a side door, carrying two plates which he sets in front of us. “Braised spareribs and roasted heirloom roots,” he says with a polite smile. “Enjoy.”
I eye Branson, who’s watching me with a genuine smile. “My favorite meal? And here I thought you picked this place for the private room.”
“Oh, I definitely did… but I’m friends with the chef and he owed me a favor.”
I’ve never been a fan of big gestures, but the little ones, the thoughtful ones, absolutely do me in. I can’t contain the smile this time.
“How do you know the chef?” I ask.
“Same… social club.” He hesitates. I’m about to call him out for lying by omission again, but he holds up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say, but it’s probably easier if I show you.”
“Well, that’s not mysterious at all…”
Branson chuckles. “Trust me, some things are just better in a visual medium. What do you have against doctors?”
“What?” I frown at him. “Where did that come from?”
“The day you crashed into me, you were on the phone and ranting about not dating doctors. Lawyers and something else too, but since I’d really prefer you didn’t date them anyway, I just need to know what the medical profession did to you.”
“Oh, that. It’s not doctors exactly… Jesus, are we really jumping right into this?” I ask, stabbing a perfectly roasted carrot and bringing it to my lips.
“Question for a question.” Branson waits with an expectant expression.
“Doctors, in general, are fine. The ones my mother has been setting me up with since I turned 18… not so much.”
“Why was your mom trying to hoist you off on doctors? Is she looking for a discount or something?”
“No,” I grimace. “Anyone with money and a good family was fine by her. All she ever wanted was a socialite daughter and a powerful son-in-law. Obviously, I’m a bit of a disappointment.” I smile at him, but it’s forced.
Branson frowns. “Anyone who is disappointed by you needs their head examined.”
“Is that your professional opinion?” I laugh, warmth spreading through me. I don’tneedanyone to tell me I’m enough. I know I am… but it’s still nice to hear it.
“Absolutely. Let her know I’ll write her a referral first thing Monday.” He winks at me. We eat in silence for a moment. The braise is so tender, so delicious, that I moan out loud without thinking. Branson’s lips part, and he watches me chew, lust clouding his expression.
“Sorry,” I laugh awkwardly.
“Sweetheart, you never have to apologize for making that sound around me.” He clears his throat and shifts in his chair. “But if you make me stand right now, I will have to apologize,” he mutters, loud enough for me to hear.
I cover my mouth, doing my best not to choke on my food. “Don’t make me laugh while I’m eating.”
“No promises. It’s a nice change from the way you’ve been scowling at me.”
“You’re going to make me choke.” I squint at him, pursing my lips, but he grins.
“I lied. The scowl is adorable too. And listen, I’m not saying I want you to choke, but if you do, I volunteer to give you the Heimlich.”
I drop my fork and cover my face with my hands, groaning. “How do you make everything sound so dirty?”
Branson contorts his face into an expression of shock. “Alexandra Kaylock, get your mind out of the gutter. I was simply offering to come up behind you, wrap my arms around that luscious waist, and save your life, should the need arise.” He drops the act, his gorgeous mouth pulling into a devilish smirk as he looks down at his nearly empty plate.
“What’s that face for?” I ask.
“Nothing. I’m just having a good time with you.”
“Yeah… I am too,” I admit.