Chapter 99 Wiped Your Drool
Wentworth chuckled and pointed to the tissues beside them. "Already wiped the drool for you."
Matilda's face turned crimson as she buried it in her hands.
She knew she drooled in her sleep, but she'd never expected him to be thoughtful enough to clean it up for her.
Seeing her embarrassment, Wentworth laughed softly. "It's just a little drool. Not exactly a federal crime."
She peeked at him through her fingers with one eye. "Did I snore too?"
"Nope. And even if you did, it wouldn't wake me up." His smile was pure affection.
Seeing he genuinely didn't care, she slowly sat up.
Sleeping in a car wasn't exactly comfortable—there wasn't room to stretch out properly. For someone as tall as Wentworth, it must have been torture. He'd probably spent the whole night curled up like a pretzel.
Sure enough, when they got out of the car, she noticed his movements were stiff and his steps slightly off-kilter.
They definitely couldn't sleep like this again tonight.
After they'd both gotten out, Wentworth drove back to their original campsite.
The grass was soaked from the rain, mud clinging to their shoes with every step.
Wentworth found their tent behind the hill—the frame was completely snapped, totally beyond repair.
Several pots and plates had been damaged by the storm too, and one of Matilda's pairs of jeans had somehow ended up on top of the hill, completely out of reach.
Those were the ones Wentworth had helped her out of the night before.
Matilda watched him standing there with his hands on his hips, staring up at the jeans and sighing. The whole thing struck her as absurdly funny, and she couldn't help but laugh.
"What's so amusing?" Wentworth asked.
She quickly covered her mouth, shaking her head. "Nothing really. It's just... kind of funny."
Wentworth looked wounded. "I feel like you're laughing at me."
"I'm not, I swear! I'm laughing at the wind from last night." She tried to suppress her giggles but couldn't quite manage it.
Wentworth walked over and started tickling her. "You are totally laughing at me."
She laughed and tried to dodge him, but he kept after her, tickling her sides until she was gasping for breath.
...
At the little restaurant, Carol opened the front door to find Ethan standing outside.
Her expression immediately soured. "What are you doing here?"
Ethan clutched his stomach. "I'm starving. Wanted to grab some food."
"Nothing hot ready this early. There's a bakery at the corner—go get breakfast there." Carol turned to walk away.
Ethan quickly followed her inside. "Look, I'm sorry about last night. I was wrong to accuse you of anything. If it wasn't for you, I would've spent the night on the street."
"Wrong about what? Wasn't it you who said I had ulterior motives?"
"I didn't know it had rained. Didn't know I couldn't get back into the clinic." Ethan sneezed.
He'd been standing outside in the cold for two hours, and combined with his general misery, he looked pretty pathetic.
Carol studied him. She wasn't heartless, and she wasn't one to hold grudges either.
"So what do you want?" she asked.
"Can I sit down for a while?"
"Sitting's fine. But that room you slept in is basically a motel. One night plus service fee comes to fifty bucks."
"No problem." Ethan pulled out his phone to pay, then found a chair to collapse into.
Carol went back to her morning routine—wiping down tables, cleaning, calling the farm about food deliveries.
The cook and waitress arrived shortly after and started preparing breakfast. Today's menu was scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and hot coffee, plus a pot of beef chili that was still simmering.
Ethan had never been a fan of beef chili, but right now it didn't smell half bad.
He hunched over in his chair by the door, rubbing his hands together for warmth while watching the clinic, waiting to see when Matilda would return.
Carol's cook brought out a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. Seeing Ethan there, he asked, "Want me to make him a plate too?"
Carol glanced at Ethan, who clearly had something heavy on his mind.
"Hold off," she told the cook. "Let me see what his deal is first."
She walked over with her own breakfast, eating while she talked. "You're waiting for Dr. Spencer?"
There was a probing quality to her question.
Ethan stared at the clinic door, and suddenly tears started rolling down his cheeks. "We actually knew each other years ago. More than a decade."
"Childhood friends?" Carol raised an eyebrow.
Interesting plot twist. "So you followed her here? But you didn't expect her to already have someone, right?"
Ethan sniffled. "Yeah. I thought she and that guy had broken up. That's the only reason I came."
Carol let out a dry laugh. "Well, that was dumb. Once a woman falls for a good man, she doesn't give up easily—unless he's a total loser. And Wentworth's definitely not a loser. A man like that? A woman never forgets him. Even if she ends up with someone else, it's just settling."
Ethan smiled bitterly. "Is he really that amazing? Even you're singing his praises."
"Any woman with functioning eyes can see what kind of man he is."
"You like him too?"
"Me? I know my place, thanks."
Hearing this made Ethan feel even more defeated.
Seeing his expression, Carol scooped half her eggs and toast into a small bowl. "You want some of this?"
"Yes!" Right now Ethan was hungry enough to devour an entire roasted turkey.
"Five bucks."
"Deal." He immediately paid and wolfed down the food.
It was gone in minutes.
Carol pushed the rest of her breakfast toward him. "Want more? Another five."
He shook his head. "Then you won't have any."
"I've got more in the kitchen," Carol said.
Ethan paid another five dollars and took Carol's breakfast. Just as he was about to dig in, they heard a car outside.
He immediately dropped the plate and rushed to the door.
Carol followed him out.
It was Wentworth and Matilda returning.
Matilda was wearing Wentworth's jacket and coat—clearly they'd spent the night together.
The sight sent another sharp pain through Ethan's chest.
After Wentworth drove away, Matilda went to unlock the clinic's back gate.
"Matty," Ethan called out to her.
Matilda had been smiling since she got out of the car, but at the sound of his voice, the smile vanished instantly.
She turned around, taking in Ethan's disheveled appearance. "Ethan, where were you last night? You didn't sleep at the clinic?"
"I don't have a key. Once I left, I couldn't get back in."
"Sarah didn't give you one?"
He shook his head.
Matilda looked apologetic. "I'm so sorry. I assumed you had one. But if you were locked out, why didn't you call me?"
"Last night I..." He couldn't bring himself to admit he'd gotten drunk.
"I spent the night outside. It's fine."
"When Sarah gets here, have her make you a copy of the key," Matilda said.
Ethan nodded, then noticed her outfit—the coat was huge and long, almost reaching her ankles, but she clearly wasn't wearing pants underneath.