After Betrayal - I Married a Handsome Tycoon-Chapter 11: Smoldering & Flamboyant

My love life?

’Heh, he sure wants to know a lot.’

Moira Sloan looked back at him, a glint of cunning flashing in her bewitching eyes. "Sure."

Connor Quinn said, "Mm."

The next second, Moira Sloan put down her chopsticks and leaned back. She crossed her slippered legs, her fair, delicate toes dangling and swaying under the table. "I had a boyfriend for seven years. He was the CEO of a publicly-traded company. We had a great relationship. I really liked him, and he really liked me."

Connor Quinn’s expression didn’t change. "Why did you break up?"

Moira’s swaying, slender calves stilled. She raised an eyebrow at him, not realizing herself that her gaze held a hint of malice. "He left for an arranged marriage."

Connor Quinn said, "I see."

After hearing Moira’s story, Connor Quinn remained perfectly calm.

He showed no signs of being bothered, nor any insecurity when compared to such an accomplished man.

’This isn’t the effect I was going for.’

Moira was a little dissatisfied.

She had wanted to make him back off, but now it seemed she had genuinely just shared her relationship history.

But Moira wasn’t one to be trifled with. Picking up her juice glass with a delicate flourish of her fingers, she feigned nonchalance and asked Connor Quinn, "What about you, Master Quinn?"

Connor Quinn asked in a neutral voice, "My love life?"

Moira replied nonchalantly, "Mhm."

Connor Quinn said, "Never dated. No relationship history."

Moira didn’t believe him. "None, or you just don’t want to talk about it?"

Connor Quinn said in a low voice, "Really, none."

A smile bloomed on Moira’s face. "Then you’d be getting the short end of the stick with me."

The implication was, ’I hope you find someone better.’

After a statement like that, most men would feel too embarrassed to continue and would surely think of backing off. But Connor Quinn wasn’t most men. He just heard him say in a low, earnest tone, "It’s not a loss. I can learn from your experience."

Moira was speechless.

The two went back and forth.

Jean Hale watched from the side, inwardly pleased.

She could tell that Moira didn’t have any romantic interest in Connor Quinn for the time being, but she could also see that Connor Quinn was very fond of Moira.

In any case, of the two people she was trying to set up, it was better for one to be interested than for both to be cold.

After dinner, Connor Quinn took the initiative to do the dishes.

Moira was lounging on the sofa with a fruit platter, eating her post-dinner fruit. Jean Hale poked her and gestured with her eyes toward the kitchen. "Where are you going to find a man as hardworking as Quinn these days?"

Moira was unconcerned. "It’s hard to find a capable and accomplished man, but there are plenty of able-bodied men who can do housework."

Jean Hale said, "Being able to do it is one thing, being willing to is another. You think all men will share the housework after marriage?"

Moira pinched a strawberry with her fair fingertips and took a bite. Her red lips, glistening with juice, were irresistibly alluring. "If he’s neither capable enough to provide for the family nor willing to take care of the home, why would I marry him? Did he save my life or something?"

Jean Hale glared at her, about to give her a piece of her mind, but Connor Quinn emerged from the kitchen after cleaning up, interrupting her. "Grandma, the kitchen’s all clean. It’s getting late, so I’ll be going now."

Jean Hale genuinely liked Connor Quinn. Although his personality seemed a bit stiff, the details showed he was a considerate person.

She was intent on getting the two of them to give it a try, so she snatched the fruit platter from Moira’s hands and said with a cheerful laugh, "Perfect! Moira has to go back too. Quinn, you two can walk together."

Moira, who was being forced to leave, was dumbfounded. "!!"

Leaving West Alley, Moira Sloan and Connor Quinn walked side by side. The dim yellow streetlights stretched their shadows long behind them.

One tall, one shorter; one firm, one gentle.

Though they were practically strangers, their shadows intertwined with a surprising intimacy.

Moira had no interest in stringing men along. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, kicked at a small pebble with the toe of her high heel, and said bluntly, her red lips parting, "Connor Quinn, you’re not my type."

At her words, Connor Quinn stopped. "My type?"

Moira smiled. "The secretly passionate type."

Connor Quinn lowered his gaze, his brow furrowing slightly. "Then what type do you like?"

A half-smile played on Moira’s lips, making it impossible to tell if she was serious. "The openly passionate type."