Page 33 of Finding Forever

He’d held her hand all the way up to their building, which had been unexpected. He’d also been solicitous—while selfish with his words—and careful to maintain a slower pace, even when Fern had insisted she was fine. But the second they’d stepped into the lobby of the apartment building; he’d let go of her hand. Simply dropped it like it was the hottest of potatoes and strode ahead of her to the elevator.

They hadn’t spoken for the duration of the short ride up to the penthouse, the silence between them simmering with even more tension than Fern was used to from him.

And now—after delivering his curt, growly statement, he strode toward his room, once again leaving her standing at the front door.

“Well, this feels familiar,” she muttered to herself with an amused snort.

She was tired, the few hours’ sleep she’d had last night had in no way been enough. She decided she’d take a shower and have a nap, maybe he’d be in a better mood after his call.

After a long,satisfying shower, Fern curled up on the bed in just a pair of panties and a T-shirt and reached for her phone. She chewed on her lip as she considered the wisdom of switching it back on. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face the world yet, and deal with the consequences of her impetuous, desperate act.

Also depressing was the fact that she had no one to call, no one in whom to confide. The friend who’d once tried to help her escape from Granger was long gone. Scared off by the awful consequences of that act of kindness. Fern was alone in the world, with no one who cared about her welfare. The only people who currently gave a damn about where she was, were the ones who meant to do her harm.

She stared at the generic wallpaper on her lock screen, and with a few swipes and presses took her phone offdo not disturbmode.

The notification alerts immediately started going off,beepsfor WhatsApp,pingsfor texts,buzzesfor email… she had no other social media accounts, having no friends to follow or engage with.

She ignored all the notifications and instead opened up her internet browser and searched for her name and sucked in her breath in shock at the number of articles that popped up mere seconds later.

Well, Cade hadn’t lied, the cat truly was out of the bag. So many articles, some of them alluding to a whirlwind romance and a hasty elopement, others dwelling on what the union would mean for the Hawthorne business, other more salacious gossip rags digging into Fern’s background describing her as practically a nun who’d been all but raised in a convent.

A convent… Fern rolled her eyes. Her school had been far from a convent. The staff had been comprised of mostly secular teachers, peppered with a few nuns, religious sisters, and only one priest.

Most of the articles featured an image of Cade in a tuxedo, unsmiling and formidably handsome as he glowered directly into the lens of whichever photographer had captured the image.

The picture of Fern was less flattering, taken at some event or the other that her stepfather had likely insisted she attend. Her hair was up in a tight, high bun, she looked washed out without a smidge of make-up in sight and—worse—she was wearing a severe gray blouse and black skirt combination that made her look very much like the nun they hinted she’d been on the verge of becoming before being “swept off her feet” by Cade.

Fern stared at their pictures and felt a surge of depression. Nobody would ever believe the whole love at first sight nonsense on the strength of these images. Cade Hawthorne could have any woman on the planet and, when they saw that picture of her, people would wonder whyFern?

She’d never minded her appearance much. She’d cursed her sun resistant vampire skin, her lack of height and curves, but she didn’t mind the way her features were put together. Theywere ordinary, but they weren’t terrible. And her one vanity was her hair, thick, wavy, soft she loved it because it reminded her of her mother. Those evenings before bed when she’d knelt in front of her mum while the woman brushed her hair. Her mother had loved spreading the strands over her lap and remarking on the color.

So no, Fern didn’t mind how she looked, but she knew that as a match for someone like Cade Hawthorne, she fell woefully short. No wonder he hadn’t enjoyed sex with her. She glumly stared at the list of names on one of the more gossipy articles—women Cade had been linked with in the past. Models, of course, actresses, pop stars—he’d even dated pop iconLauraPrentiss for a short time for goodness’ sake—and socialites. The list was daunting. Redheads, blondes, brunettes, tall, short, slim, curvy, all ethnicities and races—the one thing they all had in common was staggering beauty.

And Fern while passable was no beauty.

She shook her head, annoyed with herself for going down this rabbit hole and closed the internet browser. For a moment she stared at the numbered red tags on her apps and briefly considered just deleting everything unread. But she knew cowardice wasn’t going to help her. She’d made her decision—she ought to stand by it.

With that thought firmly in her mind, she dragged her thumb across the screen, knowing that time had come to face the music.

Chapter

Nine

Cade stopped dead in his tracks as he heard a familiar voice echoing down the hallway toward him. A voice he’d ever expected to hear in his own home.

Fucking Granger Abernathy.

His voice was muffled and coming from behind the closed door of Fern’s room. It was clear that he was shouting and this pissed Cade all the way off. Fern had married him to get away from this fucker, so why in hell was she taking his calls?

He stomped his way to her door and without thinking, swung it open and stepped into the room.

He blinked in confusion, when he found her sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed, wearing nothing but knee-high socks and a T-shirt that was hiked so far up it revealed every inch of her pale thighs all the way up to her sage green panties.

“Uh…” He blinked at the unexpected expanse of silky skin on display before hastily diverting his gaze up to her face.

She was staring back at him in shock, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes wide… the flush creeping up her face added a bloom of delicate color to her cheeks. Her hair was wet and loose. Cade bit back a groan at the sight of it. It was so long it tumbled over her shoulders and down her back, with a good few damp inches left to pool on the bedcover around her thighs and butt.

“C-Cade?” She had her phone in her hand and she hastily lowered it to her lap, the move thankfully covering up her crotch area.

---