Page 87 of Finding Forever

He sat up, dropping his forearms to his thighs with his hands dangling between his knees.

“Hey,” he called, and despite the quietness of his tone, the word seemed to penetrate her spiraling panic and she stopped dead to look at him. “Come and sit down.”

He patted the sofa beside him and she stared at the empty spot for a moment, a concerned frown marring her smooth brow.

“Come on, Fern, you need to calm down, or you’ll be a bundle of nerves by the time we go on.”

Her shoulders and head dropped and she trudged over to him, her disconsolation evident in her body language.

She settled down beside him and he reached for the rucksack he’d brought along. She’d eyed the bag curiously when they’d left the townhouse in Knightsbridge but hadn’t asked about it.

“You haven’t eaten much today, you should have a snack,” he muttered, digging through the bag, before triumphantly producing an energy bar.

“They have snacks,” she said, indicating toward the laden tables.

“Uh huh, I told them about your peanut allergy but I don’t trust them not to have forgotten, so I’d feel better if you had oneof these instead.”

She stared at the granola bar in his hand for the longest time, as if not entirely sure what to make of it.

“It’s mixed berry and yoghurt,” she said, and he frowned down at the snack, not sure why she’d felt the need to point that out.

“Yes.”

“My favorite,” she said, her voice soft, hesitant.

Aah.

“Yes, Fern… I know.”

“Howdo you know that?”

“We live together,” he reminded her.

“It’s very thoughtful of you, but I’m sure Mike Holmes’s people know better than to forget something as major as an allergy. Besides, I can read labels, you know?”

“Not chancing it,” he maintained, inserting some steel into his tone, while continuing to hold the bar out toward her.

She pressed her lips together before reaching for it.

“Thank you.” She silently unwrapped her snack and took a bite, before saying, “It’s a miracle I lived this long without you there to monitor my sun intake and run peanut interference for me.”

The words, mildly spoken, were teeming with sarcasm and Cade fought back a grin at the little kitten scratch.

“I promised to protect you,” he reminded her. “It’s a full benefits package.”

She kept her eyes on the bar and picked a berry out of the granola with her nails to pop into her mouth, before muttering, “Notquitefull benefits.”

He gaped down at her downcast head in shock, not certain he’d heard her correctly, but seeing her cheeks pinken beneath the artificial flush the make-up artist had already put there, confirmed what he’d heard.

He coughed awkwardly into his fist and was about torespond with something ill-advised, when a fuss at the door distracted them from their conversation.

It was the young production assistant, followed by several other people. The assistant—Tim—was talking a mile a minute, his voice filled with a reverence that had been markedly absent when he’d spoken with Cade and Fern.

And when the small crowd parted, to reveal the couple who were just entering the room, Cade could see why.

Well at least the audience were going to be richly rewarded after having to endure his and Fern’s boring segment.

Cade’s eyes dropped to his wife’s face, wanting to gauge her reaction to the new arrivals and he found her staring with wide eyes, face filled with the same reverence he could hear in Tim’s voice.

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