Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 248(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 248(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Professor Miller went about as gray as the hair that was peppered throughout his head.
“I mean to be completely honest. I’m not one to talk,” Lucca admitted his own gray area that the beginning of his and Chloe’s relationship fell into. “Once might be forbidden true love … but eight is a downright felony. You’d think by the seventh you might have learned your lesson, Professor Miller.”
Swallowing hard, the professor knew he had been cornered. “Any relations I had were with former student—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He waved him off, saving the spiel for the dean or court. “You’re a real standup guy who waited till after they graduated.”
“While maybe not the most ethical, I haven’t done anything illegal, Mr. Caruso.” Miller picked up his briefcase and went to leave, but the moment he got too close, he chickened out.
Lucca took the final step, closing any remaining distance and letting the professor know just how close he wanted to get by getting on a first-name basis. “I’d suggest a change of scenery, Andy.”
Nervous, Andy stammered, “I-it’s the middle of the semester. W-where do you expect me to …?”
Lucca suddenly reached out, causing his words to drop off as he smoothed down the slightly wrinkled-up shoulders of his button-up shirt. He could practically feel the vibrations of the professor’s bones rattling from the simple touch. Finally, he picked off the piece of lint that had driven him fucking crazy since he had spotted it ten minutes ago from all the way up the seats.
“Don’t care where as long as the beautiful scenery isn’t that of my fiancée.” Hell, if Lucca was trying to go back to the old ways and be stared at as if he were in the Godfather, he might as well make the Italian leather shoe fit … “Capiche?”
SIXTEEN
I TOLD YOU I WOULDN’T WHACK HIM
“Shut the door behind you, Chloe.” Lucca used the same tone of voice he always used with her—gentle and soothing, as if pacifying a child.
The thought had any hesitations about confronting Lucca put aside. If they were going to get married, she had to make it plain and simple that she wasn’t going to tolerate his interference in certain areas of her life.
She closed the door and came to stand in front of his desk. “I shut the door. Now answer my question.”
Lucca raised a brow. “No kiss?”
She moved around the desk to kiss his waiting mouth, knowing what battles she could and would never win. Like when she went to move away yet found herself sitting on his lap. “Lucca …”
“Do you want an answer or not?”
This time, when she tried out Maria’s death glare, it failed. She supposed Lucca was immune to it after growing up with the originator of the glare. Finally, Chloe quit struggling to get off his lap.
“I haven’t done anything to Professor Miller.”
“Then … how did you know I was asking about Professor Miller?” Chloe knew she had him now, and worse, Lucca knew it, too.
“I meant, I didn’t lay a hand on him.” When Chloe tried the infamous glare on him again, he continued, “Nor did any of my men.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. There was no fooling her this time.
“Then what exactly did you do?”
He thought for a moment, clearly weighing his words of how to best put it. “I might have strongly advised him to find another job.”
At first, she wanted to
cry
scream
run …
Hell, Chloe wasn’t sure how she felt anymore, but what she did know was that none of that was going to work against a man they called the boogieman.
“Lucca, you know how much I love you. I mean, you really know. There was no need for you to break the trust I have in you just because you didn’t want me around Professor Miller. Did you even consider another option? One where you were honest about your feelings?” Chloe guessed he hadn’t from the brooding expression he was giving her. “You know you could have asked me to drop out of the class, right?”
“Why would I ask you to drop out of the class?” He picked up a lock of her shiny black hair to twine around his finger. “You weren’t the person at fault.”
“Neither was Professor Miller …” Chloe’s gray eyes drifted to the motion, too easily entranced. She drew her eyes back to his and stayed strong, like Maria had coached. “He never spoke to me unless it was related to the class, Lucca. You took an argument I had privately with Adalyn and blew it out of proportion. Then you mocked that you wouldn’t do anything to him.” She had added the last part hoping it would drive her point home.
Unfortunately … it did not.
He lightly tugged the strand of hair wrapped around his finger. “I wasn’t mocking you. I told you I wouldn’t whack him, and I didn’t.”