The Older Man She Craves Can Hear Every Naughty Word In Her Head Chapter 08

The Older Man She Craves Can Hear Every Naughty Word In Her Head Chapter 08

The air went deathly still, so quiet you could hear a 

pin drop. 

“Mr. Parker, I didn’t say anything.” 

A flicker of panic crossed my face. 

Theodore nodded. “No one was talking just now. Dad, I told you to stop being so hard on yourself. Skip the 5 a.m. runs. Now you can’t even hold your cutlery steady. You’re hearing things! You should 

see a doctor tomorrow.” 

Atticus picked up his cutlery. “Get rid of that filthy thing in your tongue. Don’t let me see it again.” 

Theodore protested. “It’s a tongue piercing. Everyone my age gets them. It’s trendy…” 

Atticus’s gaze landed on me. “You feel the same way?” 

I flinched and looked toward Theodore 

instinctively. 

That one action turned Atticus’s face stormy. “Why 

are you looking at him? Fefe, I’m asking you.” 

Theodore braced himself and tried to change the 

subject. “Dad, when should Fefe and I get 

engaged? Next Tuesday sounds good…” 

The next instant, the glass shattered in Atticus’s 

hand. 

He lifted his eyes, his gaze icy. “You don’t get to 

call her Fefe.” 

When dinner was finally over and we were ready to rest, Theodore pulled me into his room. 

He lowered his voice, pale with fear. “I’ve never seen my dad this furious… Why do we have to go 

this far?” 

“So you and I don’t have to go through with the 

marriage alliance.” 

“Alright. Let’s keep going with your plan.” Theodore’s face twisted with distress. “My legs have been shaking all night. Miss Merriweather, you have some serious nerve.” 

I said nothing. 

He had already seen the worst of me. When you’ve got nothing left to lose, you’ve got nothing to fear. So yes, I had nerve. 

I left Theodore’s room and ran straight into a pair of red–rimmed eyes. 

The comments were terrified: [Holy crap, a creepy 

ghost man right there in the dark! Scared me to 

death!] 

Atticus stared at me. “It’s eleven at night. Why 

were you coming out of his room?” 

“We were just discussing something.” 

I thought to myself: If he knew I drew Theodore, 

he’d probably be happy for us. 

Atticus stepped closer, grinding his teeth. “About 

what?” 

“P–Piano…” I stammered out the answer. 

Inside, I kept adding fuel to the fire. Actually, 

Theodore and I are going to try on wedding 

dresses tomorrow morning. But I have to keep 

that a secret. 

Then I slipped away. 

Atticus stood there, his hands clenched at his 

sides so tight his nails dug into his flesh, feeling 

no pain. 

“Try on wedding dresses…” 

The next day, Theodore and I were about to leave when we found Atticus sitting on the sofa–he 

should have been at work. His eyes were clouded with darkness. “Where are you going?” 

“Miss Merriweather said the house feels stuffy. 

We’re going out for a walk.” 

“Is that so?” 

I nodded. “Yes.” 

Atticus stayed at the floor–to–ceiling window long after the car was out of sight, his body tight, on the edge of losing control. “Liar!” 

At the luxury bridal shop, I picked out several dresses excitedly. 

I tried one on and was about to step out to show Theodore for the act. 

I had just opened the door when a tall, broad figure stepped in. 

“Mr. Parker…” 

I didn’t get to finish. 

Atticus looked at me standing there in a wedding dress, my face full of eager anticipation. In an 

instant, his eyes turned red. The last taut thread in his mind snapped. 

That refined, scholarly man–right under his son’s 

nose–shoved me against the door and kissed me 

wild. 

“Didn’t you say you liked me? Why are you here 

wedding dress shopping with him?” 

“Are you trying to drive me insane? You bad, bad 

girl.”