He absolutely hated it when Georgia Thorne called him Mr. Sheridan!
There was already an age gap between them. At the supermarket earlier, quite a few people had assumed he was an older relative.
"Elliot Sheridan, you're bullying me again!" Georgia Thorne paid no mind to his gloomy expression. "I'm a patient, and you actually made me help you carry things. My arms are so sore!"
Elliot Sheridan's gaze on her was profound. Georgia Thorne's cheeks were flushed red, and tiny beads of sweat dotted her smooth forehead, likely from chasing him just now.
Before he met Georgia Thorne, Elliot Sheridan had been with countless women, but they were merely companions, like Amanda Thorne had been.
Elliot Sheridan disliked coquettish women. They always struck him as phony; their pouting was always for a purpose—for clothes, jewelry, a house, or other, even more valuable things.
