Chapter 70 The Little Trickster
That night, Eula dreamt of struggling to breathe after falling into water, a sensation of discomfort pervading her sleep.
She woke up the next day feeling absolutely exhausted. Opening her eyes, she found herself inches away from a chiseled face. His eyes were closed, his long lashes casting shadows that made his already deep eyes appear even more enigmatic.
Eula watched him, mesmerized by his handsome, peaceful expression. She mused how a sleeping man could also be a masterpiece – if women were sleeping beauties, then he was a Western landscape painting, he was that magnificent Grand Canyon.
It took Eula a moment to snap out of her reverie.
Shaking her head, she tried to shake off the enchantment, finding this whole situation incredibly strange.
Feeling the woman in his arms stir, Judson tightened his hold, pulling Eula closer, her lips gently brushing against his face.
Judson's eyes open, meeting Eula's gaze.
Noticing her kiss, he smiled slyly, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Were you stealing a kiss from me?" he accused playfully, as if she really was kissing him intentionally.
Eula sat up abruptly, her hand instinctively covering her mouth. "No, no, you've got it all wrong, I just..."
It was him who had pulled her into his arms, any contact was purely accidental, she wasn't trying to kiss him on purpose.
Seeing her flustered and fearful appearance only made Judson smile more radiantly, a stunning grin lighting up his face.
To Eula, this man was like a bewitching spirit, always leaving her feeling off-kilter, entranced, and completely out of control.
She ran a hand through her hair, trying to clear her head.
Judson furrowed his brow slightly. "What was that drink they gave me last night? I have a hangover."
Only then did Eula remember, this was her room. He had been drunk the night before, and she had taken care of him out of concern.
All the memories came flooding back to her as she glanced over at the bed.
When did she go into it? It seemed she had even snuggled up against someone.
Eula felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. How could she let herself act this way?
She had every intention of sleeping on the floor; she'd even made a makeshift bed. But somehow, she ended up on the bed instead.
So embarrassing!
Judson noticed her fidgeting, shaking her head, and messing with her hair.
She was adorably flustered, and he had to suppress a chuckle before asking her in a mock stern voice, "Fake booze?"
Eula waved him off, "No, it's the real deal, and top-quality at that."
Judson raised an eyebrow, "Hm! Missed dinner last night, did I? What about breakfast?"
There was something pitiful about the way Judson spoke.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, Eula said, “Judson, I'm truly sorry. My kids can be a handful. Please don't be upset. Breakfast is ready; you can eat after you freshen up."
She had already told Mary to prepare extra breakfast and make some warm soup to settle Judson's stomach.
Judson sat up, glanced down, and quickly pulled the blanket up to cover himself.
"Who took my clothes off?"
There was a flicker of fear in his eyes. Eula saw it—real fear and apprehension.
A grown man looking so vulnerable, was he afraid she'd done the deed with him?
"It was Mary, nothing to worry about. She’s old enough to be your mother; don’t give it another thought."
