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Put Me in Detention(78)

Author:Meghan Quinn

“It’s infuriating, actually. She has told me constantly to give you a chance.”

“Maybe you should listen to your friend.” I quirk a brow.

“Maybe you should offer me the annulment I asked for several weeks ago.”

“Ehh, don’t really feel like letting go of you, especially when I know what you sound like when you come.”

Her cheeks redden. “You can’t possibly base a marriage off the sound of someone orgasming.”

“Clearly, you’re not paying attention to the way you sound. Trust me, one moan from you would cause any man to push you down the aisle to the altar.”

“Aren’t you charming?”

I smirk. “I can be.”

I have a mouthful of the soup and, damn, it really is good. When I catch her studying me, I ask, “Did you miraculously figure out how to cook overnight, or are my assumptions correct when I say you were trying to poison me to death via charred food?”

She shrugs. “I really don’t know how to cook, besides a few things. But did I possibly make sure things were over-seasoned and overcooked every night? Yes. But before you say anything, I suffered right along with you.”

I chuckle. “Your dedication to getting me to leave is commendable.”

“I learned early in life—you do what it takes to get what you want.”

I nod. “And it seems your recent goal is to get my dick.”

She nods, eyes trained on me.

“And what are your plans to get that?”

“If I told you, it would give everything away.”

I stir my soup and ask, “Is one of your tactics to actually be nice to me?”

“Might be.” She offers me a smirk. “Is it working?”

“Slightly,” I answer, because it’s true.

This feels like a turn of events, like the massive hill I’ve been climbing is finally starting to even out and I can have a reprieve soon.

But no matter how much I want her, I won’t give in until she gives me what I want, until she surrenders. She might be playing nice right now, but that doesn’t mean she’s stopped. That doesn’t mean she’s put an end to this battle. Which means I still need to stay on guard.

We spend the rest of the dinner exchanging glances, but not really talking. I clean up the kitchen as usual, but instead of her retreating to the bed, she sits on the counter and watches me while she plays a playlist of Taylor Swift songs on her mobile.

Done with the dishes, I wipe my hands on a towel and then hang it over the oven handle. I turn toward Cora. She reaches out and I allow her to pull me between her legs. She locks me in by crossing her ankles against my back. I rest my hands on her hips and take a deep breath.

Stay calm, man.

Her hand goes to my hair and she plays with the ends of it. “Are you going to go to the pool party?” she asks.

“I think so. The invitation told me I was required. Are you going?”

“My invitation told me I was required as well.”

“Did yours come from Romeo?”

She shakes her head. “It came from Stella.”

I scratch the side of my jaw and ask, “Do you think they’re trying to do some sort of Parent Trap thing? You know, when they bring us together in the hopes of making a love connection?”

“I feel like I should be disturbed that you know that movie.”

“I have two sisters. I grew up watching Lindsay Lohan movies with them.”

“Two sisters?” she asks. “What are their names?”

“Cleo and Agnes.”

“Agnes?” she says in shock.

“Yeah.” I chuckle. “We call her Aggie. She, uh, she was named after our grandma, unfortunately.”

“Sheesh, middle name that.”

“That’s what we’ve all said, but she wears the name with pride, because our grandma was probably the most amazing person you’d ever meet.”

“Tell me more about her,” Cora says.

If we’re going to finally talk, finally share, I decide that we need to be more comfortable, so I scoop her up and take her to the bed, where I sit and prop some pillows behind me so I’m leaning against the headboard. I situate her on my lap and say, “That’s better.”

Her hand falls to my chest and she casually drags her fingers over the short-clipped hair sprinkled on my pecs.

“So, tell me about Grandma Agnes.”

“Well, she’s the one who showed us how to make tea properly. She’d have scolded you until you were a puddle of nothing if she saw the way you attempted to make tea.”

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