Page 63 of Ghost Of You
I grin wickedly. “I’ll save it for home then. But be warned, you’re mine the moment we walk through that door.”
She licks her lips, and I can practically see the images flashing through her mind—images that send all my blood rushing south, making my pants suddenly feel much tighter.
“Anyway,” she says, shaking her head to clear it. Spoilsport. “What are you picking?”
“Cookie Dough,” I reply. “Anything chocolatey, I’m all in.”
She shakes her head, her smile contagious. “I should’ve known.”
The waiter takes our order and returns with a bottle of white wine, pouring it into our glasses before settling the bottle into a bucket of ice. He did give us a weird look when we ordered all the starters, but I assured him that anything we don’t finish, we’ll take home. No food left behind tonight.
Laelia lifts her glass, and I can’t help but notice the lipstick stain she leaves on the rim. It’s a familiar sight, one I’ve seen on countless coffee mugs at home and every takeaway cup she gets when we’re out.
As we toast, I feel my nerves slowly easing, the wine working its magic. But I keep myself in check—I can’t afford to get too tipsy. This proposal needs to go off without a hitch, and the last thing I need is to trip over my words or worse, fall flat on my face.
Laelia takes a sip of her wine and sets her glass down, her fingers lightly tracing the rim. “You’re really going all outtonight,” she says softly, her eyes locking onto mine with a warmth that makes my heart flip.
“Only the best for you,” I reply, reaching across the table to take her hand. The contact sends a jolt of reassurance through me, reminding me why I’m doing all this. It’s for her—for us.
She squeezes my hand, her thumb brushing against my knuckles. “You know, you didn’t have to do all this to impress me,” she says, her voice teasing yet tender. “I’d have said yes to breakfast in bed too.”
I chuckle, leaning in closer. “Maybe, but this? This is a night we’ll remember forever. And besides,” I add with a grin, “you deserve the best.”
Her smile softens, and in that moment, I know—tonight is the night. My nerves are still there, but they’re manageable now, drowned out by the overwhelming love I feel for the woman sitting across from me.
The waiter returns with our starters, and as the plates are set before us, I give Laelia’s hand one last squeeze before releasing it. “Bon appetite,” I say with a grin, trying to keep things light even as my heart races.
Laelia smiles back, picking up her fork. “Let’s see if this place is still as amazing as I remember.”
We dive into the food, and the moment I taste the King Prawns, I’m in heaven. The flavours are rich and perfectly balanced, exactly as I hoped. Laelia’s eyes widen as she tastes the Mushroom Al-Forno, a small moan escaping her lips, which doesn’t help my concentration.
“Good?” I ask, watching her closely.
“Incredible,” she says, closing her eyes as she takes another bite. “I could eat this every day and never get tired of it.”
I chuckle. “We might have to, with how much we ordered.”
We swap bites, each dish better than the last, and I can’t help but laugh at the sheer joy on Laelia’s face as we devour thestarters together. The food is so good it almost distracts me from what’s coming next. Almost.
“Okay,” she says, leaning back in her chair, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Confession time. Why did you really choose tonight for this fancy dinner?”
I pause, the question hanging in the air. My pulse quickens, and I feel the weight of the ring box in my pocket, a tiny but significant pressure. I know I can’t dodge this one much longer.
Taking a deep breath, I lean forward, meeting her gaze. “Because tonight is special,” I say, my voice filled with emotion. “Because I wanted to do something that shows you just how much you mean to me. And because there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a long time. So, Laelia…”
Just as I reach into my pocket to pull out the ring box, a sudden clatter interrupts me. My gaze darts to the side, and I see the candle on our table wobbling precariously. Time seems to slow as the candle tips over, its flame catching the edge of the tablecloth. In an instant, the fire ignites, and the flames begin to spread rapidly across the table.
“Oh my God, Killian!” Laelia exclaims, her eyes widening in horror as she scrambles back.
Panic surges through me. I fumble with the ring box, trying to stand and move away from the growing fire. The flames leap from the tablecloth to the centrepiece, consuming the bouquet of roses and sending thick, black smoke billowing into the air.
A waiter rushes over, his face pale with alarm, and grabs a fire extinguisher. “Everyone, please remain calm!” he shouts, his voice cracking under the pressure as he starts spraying the foam, attempting to douse the flames.
The once-romantic ambience is replaced by chaos. Other diners are standing up, some shouting, others trying to help. The fire alarm goes off, adding a high-pitched screech to the cacophony of voices and panicked movements. The restaurantstaff scramble to contain the situation, but the fire has already done its damage.
Laelia stands by my side, her hand clutching mine tightly as we watch in stunned silence. Her face is a mix of shock and disbelief, and I can’t help but feel a sinking dread. The carefully planned moment I had envisioned is disintegrating before our eyes.
As the flames are finally extinguished, the damage is clear. Our table is covered in foam, the bouquet of roses is nothing more than a smouldering mess, and the restaurant is now the centre of attention for all the wrong reasons. The smell of burnt fabric and smoke fills the air, mixing with the lingering scent of wine and dinner.