The Older Man She Craves Can Hear Every Naughty Word In Her Head Chapter 02
“No, I didn’t say anything.”
I had never spoken in such a sweet, coquettish voice in my life.
I felt secretly disappointed when he pulled his hand away.
What’s the harm in holding my hand for one more minute? Ugh!
Sure, he looks a bit more mature than what Mom described… but damn, he’s hot.
If I’d known he was this good, I would’ve run over here earlier!
The man noticed none of the servants reacted strangely, and a faint frown of confusion settled between his brows.
He introduced himself. “Miss Merriweather, I’m Theodore’s father. Atticus.”
The second he spoke, my world crashed down around me. I was utterly stunned. “F-Father?”
“Right. You didn’t show up yesterday. Theodore left suddenly for a research project abroad and won’t be back for a while.”
The comments burst out laughing:
[No way. Did the extra mistake the male lead’s dad for the lead?]
[I’m laughing so hard my hemorrhoids are about to burst!]
I was falling apart too!
I forced a smile. “It’s okay. I’ll wait for him. I can explore Westfield Heights in the meantime.”
The truth is, my family is breathing down my neck! If this marriage doesn’t work out, they’ll tear me apart when I go home.
Atticus paused for a moment. “If you don’t mind, Miss Merriweather, you can stay here.”
The servants carried my luggage upstairs.
I collapsed onto the bed in my new bedroom, my heart pounding wildly.
God is treating me like a poor toy, messing with me on purpose!
The comments were laughing hysterically:
[Love finds a way… to in-laws!]
[Congratulations, congratulations to you!]
I ground my teeth in frustration. “Ugh! Stop singing!”
The comments were shocked: [The extra can see us? No wonder the plot is changing!]
“Don’t call me extra!”
[Okay, okay, Freya.]
I was devastated.
“Do you think I have a chance to become the male lead’s stepmom?”
[We can help with other things, but this is impossible.]
[Atticus has been single for 35 years. He’s all work and no romance. Theodore is his late brother’s son.]
It was the worst answer possible.
I squatted on the floor and drew circles.
[What are you doing, Freya?]
“Picking up the pieces of my broken heart.”
The comments erupted in laughter: [Hahaha! Don’t be sad. The younger male lead is actually pretty great.]
I wiped away my tears. “I’m loyal to older guys!”
A warm scent drifted from the kitchen.
I snuck downstairs and saw Atticus making soup.
He can make soup too? See, this is why silver foxes win every time.
Look at those biceps, those strong, veiny forearms. I can’t even imagine how good he is at cooking!
I thought I was being quiet, but he noticed me right away.
“Miss Merriweather, didn’t you want to explore Westfield Heights? Harry, the driver, is waiting at the gate.”
“Okay.”
Atticus wasn’t this distant when we first met. Did I hit a nerve somehow?
I’ve held back so much, and I still didn’t make a good impression. So sad.
“Miss Merriweather.”
Atticus called out to me, and I turned around blankly.
“Be sure to come back for dinner tonight.”
My bad mood vanished instantly. “Okay!”
Yay, coming back for dinner! Mood: instantly fixed.
I floated with joy, tripped over the carpet, and stumbled forward.
“Ah!”
“Watch out!”
Atticus caught me steady.
This was our first time this close. His broad chest and strong, veined forearms surrounded me completely.
He smells so good, like osmanthus or gardenia, I can’t tell! I’m so happy I could faint.
Atticus released me instantly, his face darkening as he put distance between us. “Miss Merriweather, you may go.”
I snapped back to reality and left the Parker Estate reluctantly.
When I returned that evening, the table was laid with a grand feast.
I took only tiny bites with my cutlery, screaming inside.
Acting modest is so hard. How do those heiresses do it, eating like birds? I want to gorge myself!
“You’re not eating much, Miss Merriweather. Is the food not to your taste?” Atticus asked suddenly.
I froze and then shook my head frantically. “No, no! It’s perfect!”
I took a big, convincing bite of honey-baked ham.
He nodded. “Good.”
I wanted him to believe me, and somehow I switched straight into my gluttonous, spoiled mode.
It wasn’t until I finished getting ready for bed and lay down, seeing the comments flood in [Here comes the glutton], that I covered my face in despair.
“I blew my elegant image on the first day. I’m done for!”
The comments couldn’t hold back: [It’s not like you need Atticus to like you. He’s not the male lead anyway.]
I broke down even more and let out a low, cow-like moo.
