Chapter 292: Chapter 302: No, Only I Can Get My Wife Pregnant

Holly Winslow huffed playfully. "Hurry back to work. I’m fine. Teacher Winslow is indestructible." After speaking, she tilted her head and gave him a wink.

Suddenly remembering something, she reached into Mortimer Quincy’s pocket, pulled out his cash, and plucked out the two largest bills, unceremoniously commandeering his allowance. "I’m using your allowance to buy chicken. Any objections?"

"I couldn’t say even if I did."

Mortimer Quincy chuckled, amused. He lifted his chin slightly. "Take it all. Buy whatever you want to eat." As he spoke, he gave her all the cash he had on him, then glanced at her a few more times, clearly still a little worried.

Holly Winslow knew he’d been very busy lately. She beamed and patted his chest, then waved her hand. "Go on, get to work. I’m off to get something good to eat. Call me when you get off so I can start cooking."

Mortimer Quincy pressed his lips together again, saw her onto the bus, and only then took the elevator upstairs.

「At the office」

A colleague at the neighboring desk saw him sit down and leaned over. "Mortimer, where’d you go? The manager was just looking for you. He said you didn’t turn in the data analysis."

"Had to step out."

Mortimer Quincy got up and went to the manager’s office. When Kian Langdon saw him arrive, he gestured for him to come in. While marking up some documents, he asked, "Is the analysis finished?"

"Yes. I emailed it to you this morning."

"Oh, I didn’t see it. I probably wasn’t logged in. Never mind, you can go."

"Manager Langdon, I’d like to take a half-day off."

Upon hearing this, Kian Langdon stopped what he was doing and looked at him. He neither agreed nor disagreed. "Something urgent?"

Mortimer Quincy nodded. "Yes, a family emergency."

Hearing it was a family emergency, Kian Langdon considered it for a moment, then nodded.

’In principle, no one’s supposed to take leave right now, since the project isn’t finished yet.’

He said, "I was planning a company dinner for tonight. If you’re not here, we can postpone it until tomorrow."

Mortimer Quincy shook his head. "It’s fine. You guys go ahead."

Kian Langdon didn’t say anything more, just waved his hand, signaling for him to hurry home.

... 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Two stops away from the company, Holly Winslow, who was sitting by the bus window, suddenly saw their black car drive past. The license plate was the familiar "333".

She immediately sat bolt upright. Mortimer was at work, and she was on the bus.

’Was the car stolen?’

She hurriedly called Mortimer Quincy. As soon as the call connected, before she could even speak, Mortimer’s deep voice came through the phone. "Honey, get off at the next stop."

Holly Winslow froze for a second. "You’re not at work?"

"Shopping for chicken with my wife is more important," Mortimer Quincy said as he pulled the car over to the side of the road.

Hearing this, Holly’s eyes curved into crescents as she smiled, but she still said smugly, "Taking a day off is going to cost you your allowance."

’Her Quincy the Puppy was just so sweet, so sweet that sometimes she felt she couldn’t live without him.’

’In her past life, whenever she said things like this, Anna Willow and Iris Kensington would both say she was lovesick.’

’But she knew in her heart just how good it was. She knew she’d never find another Quincy the Puppy.’

A minute or two later, the bus reached the stop. Holly Winslow got off and quickly hopped into the passenger seat of their car.

She fastened her seatbelt and, beaming, waved at the man in the driver’s seat. "Hi, honey. Good afternoon."

Mortimer Quincy couldn’t help but smile. He reached out and pinched her cheek, mimicking her. "Hi, wifey. Good afternoon."

Holly Winslow doubled over with laughter.

It had been a while since they’d done a big grocery run. The two of them spent over an hour at the supermarket and bought a lot of things. In the end, Mortimer’s allowance wasn’t enough, so Holly chipped in.

After getting home, they rested for a few minutes before starting on the stewed chicken.

The chicken was whole. Mortimer Quincy tied on an apron and expertly began to chop it up.

’He’s so handsome, even the way he chops chicken is handsome.’

Holly Winslow admired him for a few seconds before she started washing the shiitake mushrooms and yams. Once the chicken was stewing, the two of them finally sat down on the sofa to rest.

Mortimer Quincy naturally pulled her into his arms, facing her and looking at her seriously. "Did a student upset you?"

Holly Winslow was often driven to tears by her students. It wasn’t really anger, but rather anxiety about their futures.

"A student didn’t do their homework. I said a few words, and their parent came to make a scene."

Holly Winslow wrapped her arms around his waist and pouted, feeling wronged. She blinked her almond eyes. "Honey, I feel so wronged."

Mortimer Quincy pressed his lips together, a flash of pity in his eyes. He reached out to stroke her head, but just as he was about to speak, he heard his wife’s voice. "A fruit platter would make it all better. And a milk tea would be even better."

’She’s even learned how to build up to asking for snacks now.’ Mortimer Quincy thought, "..."

He stared intently at "Teacher Winslow." "Having a husband is the best cure."

Holly Winslow: "..."

She held her palm up to him. "Alright then, give me my genius husband."

The "genius husband" raised an eyebrow, then leaned in and gave her a kiss. "Hang in there, wifey," he said seriously. "I’ll go get you a fruit platter."

Seeing that he’d forgotten her milk tea, Holly Winslow quickly added, "And the milk tea."

Seeing her anxious look, so afraid he’d forget, Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow and said meaningfully, "Wifey, if only you were this impatient at night."

"Your husband would be on cloud nine."

He really stressed the last part, his tone laced with a hint of roguishness.

’If it weren’t for his handsome face, he’d never be able to shake the "pervert" label.’

The impatient Holly Winslow: "..."

Seeing her silence, Mortimer Quincy gave her a satisfied look and handed her his phone, saying magnanimously, "Go ahead, order. I’m loaded. Wifey can order some cake or barbecue or something too."

Holly Winslow couldn’t help but laugh out loud. "Loaded, are you? I’m docking half of your allowance next month."

Then, she expertly unlocked his phone. "Hmph, in that case, I won’t hold back."

"I never ’hold back’ with my wife anyway."

"..."

Holly Winslow kicked him lightly. "You flirt."

She ordered two milk teas and some barbecue. After paying, she used her own phone to transfer 2,000 to Mortimer Quincy.

To top up his allowance.

A moment later, Mortimer Quincy brought over a platter of fruit and placed it in front of her. Then, he put on a recently released horror movie.

The two of them snuggled on the sofa and watched. In the black-and-white light, their leaning silhouettes exuded a gentle warmth.

When the delivery driver arrived with their food, the female lead in the movie had just seen a ghost and let out a scream, making him jump in fright.

Mortimer Quincy: "..."

He calmly took the delivery. "Thanks."

The couple snuggled on the sofa watching movies for two or three hours. By the time they finished, it was time to make dinner.

The chicken soup was already done.

Holly Winslow couldn’t resist having a bowl first. After finishing, she let out a "BURP" and was a little stuffed.

She patted her stomach and sighed, "I’ve eaten so much I feel pregnant."

Mortimer Quincy, who was rolling up his sleeves to chop vegetables, heard this. He looked at his wife’s satisfied expression and said seriously, "You’re not. Only I can get you pregnant."

Holly Winslow: "..."

’That damn Mortimer Quincy, his mind is always in the gutter.’

She bared her teeth. "Just chop your vegetables. Watch those paws of yours, or you’ll cut yourself and start going ’boo hoo hoo’." As she spoke, she mimicked a crying face.

"Like you do at night?"

Mortimer Quincy’s lips curled into a smirk, and he slowly repeated her last three syllables, "Boo. Hoo. Hoo."

Holly Winslow: "..."

’She was no match for this guy’s dirty mind. She decided to ignore him.’

She carried the chicken soup to the dining table, snapped a picture, and sent it to Wyatt Winslow: Dad, come have some chicken soup.

Then she took another photo of Mortimer Quincy cooking, to score him some points.

Wyatt Winslow replied quickly: Have lots. Is money tight? I can send you some.