Holly Winslow: "..."
She lifted the cup to his mouth, let him take a sip, and smugly tilted her chin up. "Still sweet?"
Mortir Quincy’s expression remained unchanged. After swallowing, he said, "Sweet. Just seeing you makes everything sweet."
"And you taste even sweeter."
Holly Winslow: "..."
’I’m not a bottle of SunnyD.’
She vowed to get even. Setting down the cup, she said, "How about eating shit? Is that sweet?"
Mortir Quincy: "..."
’Is she cussing out, or herself?’
He couldn’t help but laugh. He raised a hand to rub the top of her head, his voice full of affection. "If it has to do with you, it’s sweet."
Holly Winslow, realizing she’d just insulted herself: "..."
She shivered in mock disgust and scooted a little farther away from him. "You’re just a smooth-talker. It’s a good thing you’re getting out of here tomorrow. I don’t think I could stand a few more days of this."
Watching her stick out her tongue, Mortir Quincy’s eyes crinkled at the corners. ’No need for a few more days,’ he thought. ’She won’t be able to take it by the end of tonight.’
After dinner, Yara Nolan found Holly Winslow. He wanted to ask if she could do him the favor of picking up Robin Roland, since it wouldn’t be good for him to ask for ti off so soon after starting his job.
He looked a bit embarrassed. "Ms. Sumrs, could I trouble you to pick up my mom tomorrow? It’s her first ti here, and she doesn’t know her way around."
Holly Winslow knew Robin Roland was coming and replied happily, "Aunt Roland is coming? That’s great! What ti tomorrow?"
"A little after nine."
"Oh, okay. I’ll go pick her up tomorrow."
Holly Winslow paused, then added with a grin, "Young Yancy, you don’t have to be so formal next ti."
She wasn’t the type to be kind to just anyone, but she always rembered it when soone showed her even the smallest bit of kindness.
Yara Nolan looked at her for a few seconds, a new sincerity in his eyes. He nodded. "Okay."
Afterward, Yara Nolan went back to his bedroom to read. The three of them sat on the sofa watching the financial news. Holly nudged Mortir and whispered, "You need to tell Dad you’re going back to work tomorrow."
Mortir nodded. "I will. Let’s wait until Dad’s done with the news."
Hearing this, Holly was suddenly reminded of her past life. The second ti Mortir had co to visit Wyatt Winslow, he had also watched the news after dinner.
Wyatt Winslow had told Mortir to take the remote and watch whatever he wanted, but that rascal, in an attempt to suck up to his father-in-law, had watched half an hour of news with him.
Because of that, Wyatt Winslow had started to accept him, just a little, as his son-in-law.
Thinking of this, she glanced at Mortir beside her.
’Scholar Quincy really knows how to handle his father-in-law.’
Half an hour later, the news broadcast ended. Wyatt Winslow took off his glasses and stood up to get so water.
When he sat back down, Mortir suddenly spoke up. "Dad, I have to go back to work in B-City tomorrow. Holly will stay here with you."
Wyatt Winslow looked at him and nodded with a quiet "Mm," saying nothing more.
Wyatt Winslow was a man of few words and wasn’t one for pleasantries.
But he showed it through his actions.
The next morning at seven, he went out and bought fruit, cookies, and other snacks for Mortir to take with him. He feigned a casual air. "I bought too much. Take this with you."
Seeing him push up his glasses, Holly couldn’t help but smile. ’Dad, you always co up with such obvious excuses.’
’That’s right... such an obvious excuse, and I never even noticed it in my past life.’
’I missed out on so much of Wyatt Winslow’s kindness.’
Mortir, of course, didn’t refuse his father-in-law’s kind gesture. He said obediently, "Thanks, Dad."
It was almost ti to leave for work. Wyatt Winslow and Yara Nolan left, and Holly prepared to go to the train station to pick up Robin Roland.
She linked her arm through Scholar Quincy’s, a wide grin on her face as she wheedled, "Honey, it’s on your way. Can you drop off at the train station first?"
Mortir stroked her head, his voice low and magnetic. "Drive you? I can carry you there if you want."
"Consider it a reward for how hard you worked last night."
Holly, who had "worked hard" last night: "..."
She blushed.
She gave him a light kick, then tilted her head back. "Fine, then. Carry to the train station."
When that rascal Mortir actually carried her downstairs, she: "..."
By the ti they ran into the third group of neighbors they knew, Holly wanted to crawl inside his shirt. "Quincy the Puppy, put down!"
"Give a kiss first." That shaless rascal took the opportunity to make a demand.
Holly Winslow: "..."
Half a minute later, she tilted her head up and gave him a quick kiss.
...
By the ti Mortir dropped her off at the train station, it was already past 9:10. He couldn’t stay any longer, as he had a company eting at five that afternoon.
Holly waved at him through the passenger-side window, but then she suddenly rembered sothing. "Honey, wait a second."
She quickly pulled the two thousand she’d withdrawn last night from her pocket and put it on the passenger seat. "Honey, here’s this month’s allowance and living expenses."
Mortir leaned over, bracing himself against the passenger seat, his handso face turned to her. "So much? Aren’t you afraid I’ll go fooling around?"
Holly didn’t fall for his trick, nodding magnanimously. "Go ahead. Just make sure you earn even more money to bring back so I can buy new purses."
Mortir Quincy: "..."
He couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching out to pinch her cheek. "You little devil. Your husband has to go away for work, and you’re this happy about it? I guess last night wasn’t so tiring for you after all."
"Well then, I’ll just consider it two hours you owe . You’ll make it up to next ti."
Holly Winslow: "..."
’That Mortir is so audacious.’
She bared her teeth. "I’ll be charging a make-up session fee. Twenty thousand an hour."
Mortir considered it seriously. "Honey, are you sure about that?"
"I’m afraid I’ll make you cry."
Holly Winslow: "..."
Seeing her blush, Mortir raised an eyebrow. He cupped the back of her head, gave her a hard kiss, and glanced at her flushed lips before settling back into the driver’s seat, satisfied. "Sealed. I’ll be back to renew the seal when I get ho." He even winked after he said it.
Watching the car’s rear end disappear down the road, Holly: "..."
’Renew the seal, my ass.’
She didn’t dare to et the eyes of the people around her.
’That son of a bitch Mortir,’ she thought. ’Launching a sneak attack is one thing, but leaving here to face the stares of the entire train station is another.’
"Mommy, I just saw that man kiss that lady like this," a three-year-old child said, looking innocently at his mother while mimicking Mortir’s gesture.
The mother glanced at Holly, then picked up her daughter and walked away. "Yoyo, don’t copy that, okay? That’s not a nice thing to do."
Holly Winslow: "..."
’Quincy the Puppy, you are so dead.’
She lowered her head and jogged to the station’s arrival gate, then called Robin Roland. "Aunt Roland, where are you?"
"Holly? Oh, we’ll be at the station in about ten more minutes."
Right after Robin Roland said that, the signal started to break up. Holly listened for another ten seconds or so before hanging up.
About ten minutes later, Robin Roland erged carrying several bags, big and small. Holly spotted her imdiately. Her hair was always twisted up in the back with a large black clip, the strands at her forehead pulled back taut.
She had a small, round face, and her naturally slender, curved eyebrows gave her a gentle appearance.
She had seen photos of a young Robin Roland at the Roland family ho, and she had been quite beautiful.
"Aunt Roland."
She walked over to help her with the bags.
Robin Roland looked surprised to see her for a mont, then hurriedly said, "Holly, don’t worry about it, I can manage. I can’t believe Young Yancy called you to co get . I could have found my way."
She knew how heavy the bags she’d packed were. She was used to carrying them, but it was too much for a young person; the straps would dig into their hands and leave red marks.
Holly took two of the bags anyway. They were indeed heavy. She glanced at the remaining items in Robin Roland’s hands. "Aunt Roland, how can you possibly carry all of this by yourself?"
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