Page 36 of Finding Forever

“And so goddamned innocent. How the fuck are you so innocent? When you’re sitting there fucking pregnant with my fucking?—”

His excessive use of profanity tickled her, since it seemed to be an indication of how unsettled he was right now. And it was revelatory to see a man as controlled as Cade, so frazzledand out of sorts.

“Bundle of parasitic cells?” she finished tartly and he glared at her.

“And then there’sthat…” He pointed an accusatory finger at her. “One minute you’re shy and retiring and fucking ghosting out of any room I happen to walk into and the next you’re sassy and mouthy and so goddamn brave. Find a personality and stick with it, will you? So that I know how the fuck to manage you.”

“Maybe I can’t be managed,” she said with insouciant shrug, loving that she had him on the back foot a bit. He looked and sounded so frazzled, she couldn’t help but be entertained by the exchange.

“Abernathy did… for fifteen damned years.”

That sulky comment wiped away any and all amusement as the thought of Cade controlling every aspect of her life the way Granger had, stole Fern’s words and breath from her in an instant. She hunched her shoulders defensively, instinctively making herself as small as possible, the way a prey animal would when a predator circled close by.

“Fuck.” The word, snatched from beneath Cade’s breath was curt and filled with contrition. “Fuck, Fern, I shouldn’t have?—”

She felt the mattress depress as he sat down next to her but kept her eyes averted, not wanting to look at him, not wanting him to see the terror in her eyes. She felt his tentative touch on her arm and flinched so violently he immediately snatched his hand back.

Better to be small, quiet—a mouse. Better to escape notice than to be seen as a nuisance. Or worse, have him notice her and want to control everything she had. Everything she was.

“Fern, I’m sorry. That was a fucking crass, tactless thing to say.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, wanting him gone. Wanting to be alone and out of sight. She’d let him see too much of the realher. She hadn’t been cautious enough. She didn’t know him. They’d established that over and over and over again. And while she trusted him to a certain degree, she didn’t know how far to extend that trust.

“I think I’ll take a nap now, if you don’t mind. I’m tired and—” She ran out of words and smiled sadly, before saying, a catch in her voice, “I have work to catch up on.”

She heard him swallow and he muttered something foul beneath his breath before pushing himself up to stand beside the bed. He stared at her for a long, long moment before sighing. The sound was laden with exhaustion.

He left seconds later.

“Fern?”Cade called through his wife’s bedroom door. He hadn’t heard a peep from her—nor seen any evidence of her existence—in hours. “I’ve ordered a couple of pizzas. You must be hungry.”

She hadn’t eaten since breakfast—which technically didn’t qualify as eating, since she hadn’t really touched her food. And then had thrown up the little that shehadeaten.

“Thank you. I’ll have some later,” came the muffled reply and he glowered at the closed door.

“You should keep your strength up,” he said, then—hoping it would guilt her into eating something—added, “For the—uh—fetus.”

The door cracked open a fraction of an inch and one gray eye peeked at him through the crack.

“Did you get one with pepperoni?” she asked in a small voice.

“I got a meat lover’s deep dish. I figured you weren’t vegan or vegetarian since I’ve seen you eat meat. I also got a seafoodspecial. And a chili con carne. I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for.”

The door widened even further.

“Seafood?”

“Yes,” he said in a quietly coaxing voice, feeling like he was gentling a skittish wild rabbit. “Mussels, calamari, prawns, the works.”

“Maybe I’ll have a couple of slices,” she said, the door opening even wider. She was still wearing the T-shirt of earlier, but had dragged on one of those awful, shapeless skirts with it. This one was dark blue with fucking accordion pleats. She was barefoot, and her hair was still down, it had dried in silky ripples, glinting like precious metal every time the light caught it. It fell to just past her waist and Cade wanted to gather up fistfuls of the luxurious stuff and bury his face in it.

His mouth went dry and he stepped back out of sheer self-preservation while giving the appearance of allowing her the room to pass him.

“Don’t you have any leisure wear? Like pants or shorts?” he asked in a humiliatingly croaky voice as she passed him and padded toward the kitchen. God, she smelled fucking amazing too. Nothing fancy, just softly fragranced soap and shampoo—almond and honey—and yet he couldn’t recall smelling anything quite so heady ever before.

“Not really. My stepsisters really embraced the whole ‘nun-couture’ thing. Strictly knee length—or longer—skirts and blouses, with sensible shoes. Only theverybest quality of course.”

“Naturally,” came his dry rejoinder as he moved to follow her.

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