The Unwanted Wife's Unexpected Comeback - Chapter 1187

Chapter 1187:

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After a brief shower, he returned to find Laney asleep on the bed in his lounge.

Checking his watch, Cliff said audibly, “When you wake up, it should be around lunchtime. What would you like to eat? I can book us a spot.”

Cuddling her blanket, Laney murmured, “I’d rather eat something you made.”

Cliff nodded in acknowledgment. “I’m going to head home for a while.” He paused and asked, “Are you scared to sleep here by yourself?”

“Not in the slightest.” Laney, a slight blush coloring her cheeks, asked, “Cliff, could I take a shower later? Would you mind if I borrow a shirt of yours?”

Cliff caught the playful gleam in her eyes and realized her intentions.

“I’m not into that fantasy.”

Actually, Laney hadn’t planned that far ahead.

Yet, Cliff found it hard to deny her request and left behind the shirt he had just worn for her. “I’ll be back in an hour. Call if you need anything,” he said as he left. Laney gave a compliant nod.

When he returned later, Cliff brought two dishes in a thermal container.

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Laney was up, busy with something in the bathroom.

Cliff stepped in silently, and by the time she noticed, she quickly ran to hide what she was doing. “I thought you said an hour?” she asked, flustered.

Cliff remained silent, his eyes briefly scanning the shirt behind her.

His scrutiny intensified as he looked back at Laney’s reddened cheeks. “I sped up because I was worried you might be hungry,” he explained as he entered the bathroom.

Laney felt suddenly exposed, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She made a move to push him away, urging, “Please step outside.”

Holding her cold hand gently, Cliff asked, “You never bother with laundry at home, yet here you are washing clothes by hand. What’s the secret?”

“Don’t ask,” Laney murmured, avoiding his gaze.

Driven by curiosity, Cliff gently lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Did you try it on? Why wash it if it’s not dirty?” Considering her tender skin, how could the shirt possibly get dirty?

Pressing further, Cliff warned, “Tell me, or I’ll find out myself.”

In a rush of panic, Laney blocked his attempt to reach past her. “I got it wet.”

Detecting a familiar sweet aroma, Cliff asked with a knowing tone, “Oh? And how did that happen?”

The shadows in the bathroom played against the dim light, giving Laney a surge of boldness she hadn’t expected. As she recounted the details of her touching herself in Cliff’s shirt, imagining it was him caressing her, her eyes never left his face, studying every microexpression that crossed his features.

Cliff’s gaze burned into Laney with an intensity that spoke of restrained hunger, causing her to unconsciously retreat a step backward. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to release his muscled arm, her fingers detecting the racing pulse beneath his skin—a testament to his struggle for control.

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