Barclay's gaze turned cold when he heard the word "sweetie." He asked, "Are you saying that if she likes you, you won't mind?" Moira answered, "I respect her sexual orientation." After all, she didn't swing that way.

"What about me?" Barclay chuckled in exasperation, looking at Moira, who was acting so capriciously. "What am I?"

Moira blinked and instinctively replied, "My husband!"

Wasn't this a well-known fact?

Barclay teased, "Oh, so you aware I'm your husband."

Moira was puzzled. Was it her imagination? Why did she feel like Barclay's tone was a bit resentful?

Moira suddenly realized that she had been chatting with Cynthia the whole time and hadn't paid much attention to Barclay.

Thinking about this, she suddenly felt guilty. She quickly moved closer to Barclay, tiptoed slightly, and whispered in his ear, "It's okay, Mr. Covington. There weren't many people when we came in, so no one should have noticed! Don't worry. From now on, we'll be the super-duper affectionate couple!"

Tonight's attendees at Cynthia's birthday party were naturally not ordinary people.

The "affectionate couple" image of Moira and Barclay naturally needed to be maintained.

Barclay looked at Moira, who suddenly approached him. He subconsciously tightened his hand on her waist, wanting to pull her closer into his arms, but he was afraid of scaring her. In the end, he restrained himself.

The fresh flowery scent from Moira's body drifted towards Barclay's nose like an unprovoked temptation. But she seemed oblivious, even tiptoeing closer to him.

spoke, her soft breath brushed against his cheek. Barclay lowered his head, his lips brushing against her forehead. He looked at her calmly and said, "It's

feather brushing past her heart. Moira felt her

Barclay just kiss her? Did he kiss her in front of

light kiss on the forehead, so

cotton, soft and loose,

and could only answer nervously,

lot of attention,

as

many people subtly observed them. The way they whispered to each other as if no one else

the two of them, and

she had taken a step forward, and now they

clothing, Moira could feel the heat emanating from Barclay's

a bit hot, she

at her.

at him nervously

someked away, suddenly spotti

she knew. "Mr. Covington,

looks like your friend is here

Harvey's

He didn't care.

thought Barclay would

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