Page 34 of Finding Forever

“I heard Abernathy’s voice,” he said, his voice rough. Jesus, he sounded like he’d swallowed rocks for breakfast and chased them down with a bottle of Glenfiddich.

“I was catching up on my messages,” she told him, lifting the phone to show him, then going an even deeper shade of pink as she very quickly lowered her hand. “Granger is very unhappy.”

“So that wasn’t a phone call?” he clarified.

“No, of course not.”

“He was shouting.”

“He always is.”

Cade eyed the soft-spoken fae-like creature sitting in the middle of that huge bed and felt an irrational surge of rage at the thought of Abernathy raising his voice to her.

“Not at you. Not anymore,” he told her. “Block him. If he wants to discuss this matter any further, he can contact me.”

Fern did notlike the implacable way Cade had commanded her to block Granger.

“That will only enrage him further,” she argued. “If he knows I’m entirely complicit in this matter, that it was my idea, he might back off.”

He gave her a look of such pitying condescension she very nearly flinched away from it.

“You truly believe that hearing it wasyouridea would makehim back off? When he’s been bullying you your entire life? If anything, it’ll make him come at you harder, he’d never accept being bested by someone he doesn’t respect. Telling him it was your idea is the last thing we should do right now.”

“But I want him to know,” she whispered, her voice tight with fury. “I want him to know it was me.”

His expression remained inscrutable, but his jaw flexed as he seemed to consider his next words.

“Okay, Fern, he’ll know it was you,” he conceded with a curt nod. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“But…” How to verbalize exactly what she was feeling without seeming too?—

“You want to see his reaction, don’t you?” he said, a tiny thread of amusement running through his voice as he said exactly what she’d been thinking. “That’s bloodthirsty as hell, lass.”

She lifted her chin defiantly and shrugged, striving for nonchalance as she said, “I think I deserve that much at least.”

“Well, do me a favor and don’t listen to his fucking messages anymore, okay? They’ll only upset you and possibly make you ill again. What with your constitution being out of whack because of the… the—” He made a vague circling gesture with his open hand. “The thing.”

“The thing?” she repeated, tilting her head quizzically, amused herself now at his clear discomfort. “You mean the baby?”

He grimaced.

“I mean, it’s hardly that at the moment, is it?” His brow pleated.

“What wouldyoucall it then?”

“I’d rather not…” Oh, he really looked a little hot under the collar now. Back in a navy-blue Tom Ford suit, with a pristine white shirt and a striped gray and blue tie, he should have exuded confidence. Instead, he tugged at the collar as if it was choking him and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “What I think doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

“It shouldn’t,” he corrected her abruptly. “We’re merely strangers forced together under a set of extenuating circumstances.”

“That’s true,” she acknowledged. “But I’d still like you to answer.”

“So that you can get all offended about it?”

“What makes you think I’d do that? Like you said, we’re strangers, you don’t know how I’d react.”

“Look this pregnancy business is a complication I’d much rather not deal with right now. For me there’s no joy or excitement or anticipation. What you think of as a baby, I see as an inconvenient bundle of parasitic cells that’s only making you ill.”

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