Cordelia had spread out the boxers she’d bought for Ronan on the bed.
“For me?” Ronan noticed them immediately and asked Cordelia.
“Yeah, for you, Bud.” Cordelia couldn't help but use the nickname Victoria had called Ronan earlier that day.
“What did you just call me?” Ronan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do I look old to you?”
Cordelia, sensing his irritation, went over to him and gently rubbed his chest, making sure to meet his eyes. “You’re not old at all. That’s not me talking, it’s Victoria’s words from today. I just thought ‘Bud’ had a friendly ring to it, so don’t get upset, okay?”
Ronan wasn’t one to show his emotions easily. “So, she’s got herself a young guy now and thinks she can poke fun at you?”
“She didn’t mean anything by it, it was just a passing comment.” Cordelia kept soothing him, “Don’t be mad, alright? Let it go.”
Deep down, Ronan might have been sensitive about approaching forty—the very thing he felt insecure about was what got pointed out, and naturally, it bothered him.
“Besides, it’s not certain she’ll even keep up with him.” Ronan glanced at the brand of boxers, D.K., recalling that Emerson mentioned Daniella had bought the same brand for Harold earlier today. “Did Victoria get Harold the same brand too?”
“Yep. We went shopping together.”
A smirk appeared on Ronan’s lips. Logically, he hoped Emerson would win Daniella over so they could all focus on business, but he wasn’t averse to this harmless little drama. In fact, he found it amusing.
Both women had bought Harold the same brand of boxers. Whose would he choose?
“What are you thinking about?” Cordelia asked Ronan, who was standing next to her.
“Nothing. Wanna see me model them for you?” Ronan looked down at her, his gaze heavy with unspoken desire.
He didn’t need to say what he was thinking; Cordelia knew.
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