Page 6 of Finding Forever

Cade believed that was why his dad—while griping about it occasionally—had not seemed overly concerned when first Gideon, then Nox, had drifted from the family and the business to pursue their own interests. He’d done it too and it had served him well throughout his life. That said though, Gideon was never returning to the business. He was making a name for himself as an artist. He’d even won an award last year for his work on a best-selling graphic novel.

Nox, in the meantime, had fallen completely off the radar.He hadn’t had any meaningful contact with anyone in the family in eighteen months. They knew he was safe, living mostly in isolation in the Western Cape, but even knowing his brother was alive and physically well, Cade still worried about him. This prolonged absence was uncharacteristic to say the least. Despite there being only five years between the four siblings, Cade and Nox had gravitated toward each other when they were kids, while Gideon and Kenny—the younger two—had always been inseparable.

All four of them had been pretty close but there had always been that older vs younger rivalry. But now Cade had lost his closest friend and he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to feeling abandoned and betrayed and so pissed off that Nox’d had the freedom—like Gideon and Kenny before him—to simply fuck off and follow his selfish bliss or whatever. Cade didn’t have that luxury. Someone had to pick up the slack around here. Be the responsible one, the one who didn’t simply abandon their heritage, their business… their father.

He scrubbed a tired hand over his face and scanned the documents in his hand for the umpteenth time. Looking for any possible loopholes in what needed to be an ironclad contract. No back doors for Abernathy to slime his way back into Lambecrete.

His father was barking orders into his phone and Cade wondered which hapless exec was at the receiving end of his temper this time. Probably Larsson. That kiss-arse had been trying—and failing—to fill Nox’s shoes as Chief Financial Officer of HC&E. At least their dad had not yet gone so far as to officially replace Nox, but Larsson had been his go-to finance guy since Nox had started with this absentee son bullshit.

It was even worse than when Gideon had gone off to pursue his art studies. At least Gid had attempted to maintain contact with the family—despite their less than warm reception of his overtures—and they’d always known their youngest brotherwas not interested in the business anyway. Gideon had shunned his inheritance and trust funds, while Nox had thrived on his work and had always thoroughly enjoyed the lifestyle that went hand-in-hand with being a Hawthorne.

Cade shook his head, irritated that his mind wasn’t in the game. All he’d done was recall some cringeworthy sex with a woman he’d prefer to forget—another shudder—after which he’d sat steeped in melancholy over his brother’s absence. The car rolled to a stop in front of a line of smiling faces and an older man stepped forward to open the door for his father.

“Welcome to The Glasshouse, Mr. Hawthorne,” the man greeted with a formal bow, before stepping aside, as his father—big and bullish—pushed his way out of the car.

The man’s smile never faltered as the older Hawthorne rudely muttered “Glasshouse, so fucking original.”

Cade sighed, and nodded politely at the younger man who’d opened his door and was offering a similar welcome.

This was going to be a long fucking weekend.

Abernathy was being an obstructive twat.Ostensibly dealing with an emergency, he’d instructed his staff to offer them full use of “the facilities” and had promised to be back in time for dinner. Which left James Hawthorne fuming and Cade gritting his teeth, wondering how to keep his affronted father from simply upping and leaving. God knew, he didn’t want to start this dance all over again, not when they were so close to sealing the deal.

At the same time, Cade knew exactly how his father felt. They were busy men; they didn’t need to be fucked around by a mouth breathing tool on some dick measuring power trip.

His father had appropriated a sunny solarium type room and had set up shop there. He was presently surrounded by hiscore entourage of executive assistants, attorneys, a couple of VPs, and getting some work done.

Cade, who was finding it hard to focus, had left them to it. He’d retreated to his room, changed into a pair of black swimming trunks, and was currently making use of thosefacilitiesby doing laps in the Abernathy’s Olympic-sized pool.

Well, he wastryingto. He’d no sooner completed his fourth lap than a couple of women in skimpy bikinis started splashing around in the shallow end.

He tried to ignore them, powering past one, only to have the other step directly into his path. He nearly plowed straight into her but managed to stop before hitting her and surfaced with a violent explosion of water that drenched both women in the process. The high-pitched giggles and squeals grated on his nerves, while he stood there, shoulders heaving as he fought to catch his breath.

“Oh my God, sorry. I didn’t mean to get in your way like that,” one of them screeched, pressing a hand to her chest in a move designed to bring his attention to her surgically enhanced, barely covered assets. Her pink bikini top was fighting valiantly to keep those puppies restrained, but it appeared to be a losing battle.

He wasn’t particularly interested, but they were hard to miss when they were practically being thrust in his face. He jerked his eyes to the side, to find another—similarly underdressed—pair of tits aimed in his direction.

“Hiiii,” the owner of said breasts purred—her voice a shade less grating than Pink Bikini’s. “You must be Niall Hawthorne. I’m Allegra Abernathy.”

“And I’m Antonia Abernathy,” Pink Bikini chimed in.

“Right.” Cade nodded curtly, slicking his hair out of his face, annoyed to have his swim interrupted and not particularly inclined to stand here making small talk with Abernathy’s high-pitched, overly-keen daughters.

“Sorry to interrupt your swim,” the slightly less shrill one said, not sounding the slightest bit apologetic. “We’ll get out of your way, won’t we, Toni? Just sit over on the side and catch some sun, while you do your thing.”

Cade was torn, he wasn’t up to making the inevitable inane small talk that would follow his swim—he’d never been much of a talker— but he definitely needed the exercise to clear his mind and recover from the long flight. He heaved an impatient sigh and gave the sisters another abrupt nod before turning away to continue with his laps. Maybe, if he stayed in the water long enough, they’d get bored and wander off.

Fern stoodat her bedroom window and watched her stepsisters lounge by the poolside, shamelessly doing their damnedest to catch the man in the water’s attention. He’d been at it for half an hour now, propelling back and forth without stopping while Allie and Toni draped themselves appealingly along the edge of the pool. First, they’d sat with their legs in the water, kicking up little fountains of sparkling droplets, whenever he passed by. When that failed to draw his attention, they dragged a couple of loungers almost all the way to the edge of the pool and stretched out on those.

That was when the sultry application of sunscreen had begun. After they’d both slathered the shiny oil all over their fronts, they’d started to seductively rub each other up. The entire production had been pretty disturbing, considering they were sisters and not at all as in to each other as the bizarre, intimate stroking would suggest.

Fern was embarrassed on their behalf and when first Allie, then Toni, removed their bikini tops—Fern cringed. Meanwhile, Cade Hawthorne hadn’t so much as glanced at them after their initial attempts to strike up a conversation with him.

He was an impressive sight to behold. Almost machinelike in his relentless endurance, arms and legs pistoning powerfully as his large body knifed cleanly through the water. Fern could barely tear her eyes away from the play of muscle and sinew in his broad shoulders and strong back. She hadn’t seen this much of him during their encounter. His shirt had been half unbuttoned but not completely removed, and she now regretted losing the opportunity to run her hands over that smooth, beautifully muscled expanse of tanned skin. It had all been so new, so overwhelming, so shockinglyintimatethatshe still blushed at the memory two months later. The urgent whispers, and the soft, shocking touches in secret places.

She swallowed as she fought back the memory of how brazen she’d been. She’d grasped the hard length of him and had marveled at the girth around which she could barely wrap her fingers. A part of him that she’d never seen, but hadfelt,stroked, squeezed, and with which she’d become breathtakingly, closely acquainted.

Her breath hitched at the recollection of the shocking press of his hardness against—theninsideof—her yielding flesh. It had been revelatory. And like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

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