From a Wrong Turn to Mr. Right novel Chapter 193

Even though her voice was barely above a whisper, in the stillness of the night, Olivia Bennett’s words seemed to echo.

She pressed her lips together, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

She waited a couple of seconds, but there was no reply.

Olivia tilted her head back, peering into the darkness.

That’s when she realized Ethan Carter was already fast asleep, his breathing deep and even, eyes gently closed.

She watched him for a while, her gaze softening. After a moment, a small, amused smile tugged at her lips.

It was funny, really. And a little exasperating.

———

The next morning.

When Olivia woke up, Ethan was still out cold, lying there without so much as a twitch.

She didn’t want to disturb him. Carefully, she lifted his arm from around her waist and slipped out of bed as quietly as she could.

After brushing her teeth and washing up, she headed downstairs.

Susan, their housekeeper, had already set breakfast on the table and rushed over when she saw Olivia come in.

Olivia glanced at the single plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon. “Oh, by the way, Susan, Ethan’s back. Can you make sure to set out breakfast for him too, starting tomorrow?”

Since Adelina Lane had been staying with them recently—and was usually up late, or grabbing a bagel and fruit on her way out—Olivia hadn’t bothered to remind Susan, who’d gotten used to just making breakfast for her.

Susan’s eyes widened. “Mr. Carter got home last night?”

Olivia nodded. “Yeah.”

Susan smacked her forehead in regret. “I had no idea! I didn’t make anything for Mr. Carter. Is he not coming down with you?”

“He got in from a business trip and he’s exhausted. Still sleeping.”

“I’ll go whip something up for him right now,” Susan said, bustling toward the kitchen.

Olivia called her back. “Don’t worry about it. No idea when he’ll wake up anyway. Didn’t you say you had errands to run today? Don’t let me hold you up. When he’s up, I’ll just make him some pasta or something.”

It was perfect timing, really—they’d both been craving spaghetti last night but never got around to it.

Susan frowned. “Are you sure?”

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