Chapter 91: A Warm Embrace
Eula sank into his warmth on this cold night, grateful for his sturdy, comforting embrace that seemed to thaw her chilled heart.
She didn't resist, allowing him to hold her close while they carried their daughter out of the room. Together, they looked like a family.
The driver, having received Judson's message earlier, was waiting at the hospital exit. He stepped out to open the car door for them.
Judson got in with Angie in tow, and Eula followed from the other side, thanking the driver.
"Tom, I appreciate you waiting out in the cold this late."
With a friendly laugh, the driver responded, "Miss Lowe, no trouble at all. I'm Judson's driver, and it's part of the job."
Eula returned a smile and slid into the car.
Watching Judson cradle Angie, who now seemed so much more serene, she couldn't help but picture her daughter with her father.
Silently, Eula vowed to herself to find that lost ring and locate the man connected to it.
Despite her anger, she had to admit that the child was his after all. It was good for them to spend time together.
The first time Judson held the baby like this and saw her adorable face, he suddenly got where Eula was coming from.
The terror of loss, that had him panicked and acting without thinking the moment he heard she was ill.
It was three in the morning by the time he got home, and Judson carefully placed Angie onto Eula's bed, knowing that tonight, she'd have to share it with her daughter to keep a close eye on her condition.
After setting Angie down, Eula, exhausted, pressed her fingers to her temples.
Glancing at the clock, she noted it was just past three. It was late.
She tugged at his hand, “Judson, why don't you stay tonight? I can make up a bed on the floor for you.”
She immediately regretted her offer. Was Judson really going to sleep on the floor?
“I can sleep on the floor with Angie. You take the bed.”
Judson watched her slender, weary figure. So this was what caring for a child felt like—no wonder she was so thin.
The effort must make gaining weight nearly impossible.
After she made up the floor bed, she went to pick up Angie.
Judson wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, burying his head in the nape of her neck and inhaled her scent: a faint sweet fragrance that he found intoxicating.
Eula felt uncomfortable, the ticklish sensation at her neck, their closeness—it was not normal.
Judson wanted to suggest, "Let's both sleep on the floor."
He really wanted to hold her, especially when he was this drained.
But she was rigid in his arms, clearly rejecting him.
He let go of the thought, his voice tinged with a thin layer of amusement.
"You and Angie take the bed. I'll take the floor. No need to fuss—the child is sick."
Eula, hearing his words, agreed.
"Alright. Go freshen up. I haven't thrown away your toothbrush and stuff."
After saying that, she caught herself.
Why did it feel like he stayed here often, like a couple?
She shook her head, “Judson, go freshen up. It's late.”
His embrace made her feel uncomfortable all over.
As for Judson, holding her like this made him want to kiss her—her lips were like a spell, beckoning him, urging him to do more.
She attempted to step back, but he wouldn't let go, turning her to face him, his gaze deep as he slowly drew his lips closer to hers.
Eula’s eyes widened in shock as his lips neared.
