Marrying my secret admirer after my husband's fake death novel Chapter 90

ter 90

Chapter 90

Justin had never spent a night quite like this one, staring off into space and losing track of himself over and over again.

He could feel the blood rushing through his veins, rising hot to his face.

He really shouldn’t have taken that hot shower just now.

Maybe he ought to go back and take a cold one instead.

Half–asleep, Edith sensed warmth beside her and instinctively curled up into it, nestling herself against someone’s chest.

The subtle scent of cedarwood and pine drifted toward her, clean and comforting.

There were plenty of men who wore woody colognes, but somehow, the scent on Justin was unforgettable—so distinctive that Edith found herself inching closer, greedy for more.

Justin’s heartbeat sped up, thudding in his chest, as if a small, restless kitten had curled up in his arms.

Thump, thump!

That kitten didn’t rest quietly, either. She burrowed further into his embrace, mumbling something he couldn’t make out.

Justin frowned, patience thinning, and asked softly, “What did you say?”

It took three tries before Edith’s sleepy mumbling finally made sense to him.

“Thank you, Justin”

In the inky darkness, a fond smile tugged at the corners of Justin’s mouth. “You don’t have to thank me, Mrs. Hawksley.”

The next morning

The Hawksley family had breakfast ready. Benedict and Sarah were already seated at the table, waiting.

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Chapter 90

Edith hurried down the stairs from the second floor, cheeks a little flushed with embarrassment. She hated to keep the elders waiting.

Taking her seat, she quickly apologized. “Mr. and Mrs. Hawksley, I’m so sorry I overslept and kept you waiting.”

Justin, calm as ever, sat down beside her and spoke up before anyone could reply, “She didn’t oversleep–it’s my fault for not telling her you were waiting for her to start breakfast.”

Sarah waved it off with a gentle smile, pouring Edith a glass of fresh–squeezed orange juice. “No need to apologize, dear. You woke up at just the right time–let’s eat together and get to know each other a little better.”

Get to know each other?

The phrase sounded so foreign to Edith. In the Vance family, no one ever said things like that.

After all, Heather had always made her feelings clear: people without blood ties could never truly be family.

And if you weren’t family, there was no need to build any kind of bond.

They were all just housemates, living under the same roof for the sake of one shared person.

Benedict nodded kindly. “Edith, this is your home now too. There’s no

need to be so formal.”

Edith nodded obediently, sipping the sweet juice. “Thank you.”

Justin busied himself warming some toast for her, then asked casually, “Did you go yesterday because of that painting?”

Edith paused, caught off guard. Lying wasn’t her strong suit. “Yes.”

Justin’s sharp gaze picked up on the subtle tension in her voice.

After Benedict and Sarah had finished breakfast and left the table, he leaned closer, brows furrowed. ‘Did Bennett give you a hard time

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