Page 94 of Finding Forever

He’d broken his promise to keep her safe and had driven her away. And all because he couldn’t fucking man up and admit to her—and himself—that maybe hewantedto feel something for that baby. That maybe he already did.

He shook himself.

“Get yourself together,” he snapped, furious that he was—even now—failing her. He needed to call their security company, mobilize his resources… figure out where she’d gone and bring her home.

In the meantime he was going to have to hoof it, look for her himself. He had no idea which direction she’d even taken. She still had their household credit card, she could’ve taken an Uber. Booked a hotel. A flight. Anything… he had no idea of where to start. He’d been upstairs feeling sorry for himself for nearly half an hour, she’d had quite a headstart. He tried not to let the panic overwhelm him and fought to keep his breath even as he grabbed his car keys and reached for his coat…

He stared blankly at the coat rack, hand hovering in mid-air.

Where the fuck was his coat?

Fern had leftthe house without any real destination in mind and in the end, she simply walked. It was close to midnight on a Thursday night. The streets were quiet but not empty, they were never empty in a big city like London. She wasn’t too familiar with the city—having lived here only briefly nearly ten years ago—and hadn’t had the opportunity to explore it much. And this was perhaps, not the best time to do so. It was cold and damp, and a light rain began to fall as she aimlessly walked from street to street. And while she’d had the foresight to grab Cade’s coat—in which she was swimming—she wasn’t wearing a hat or gloves.

She would have to turn back soon. She knew that, but she’djust needed to clear her head. And she’d hoped that a brisk walk would help her achieve that goal. Foolish of her, really. She didn’t know the city, the weather wasn’t playing ball, and all she was doing right now was getting wet and cold. Ruining Cade’s miles-too-big-for-her black cashmere coat in the process, and possibly making herself sick. Which, of course, wasn’t great for the baby either.

She sighed and her shoulders slumped in defeat. She had to return. Back to her desperately unhappy husband and her grim, soulless marriage of inconvenience. It had all seemed so easy and uncomplicated in the beginning. A straightforward exchange. Her freedom for Lambecrete. Three quick years and it would be done.

But she hadn’t taken into consideration how messy and convoluted human nature could be. How emotions, wants, needs, and desires could shift the parameters of a perfectly good arrangement.

She was contemplating that fact, when she trudged back up the path toward the townhouse, her frozen feet squidging uncomfortably in her—probably ruined—patent leather cream pumps. She was reaching for the door knob when the door swung inward and Cade stepped forward into the drizzle.

He froze when he saw her and his face—which was illuminated by the warm glow of the front porch light—went stark with some indefinable emotion.

“Fern?” he breathed. Then swore shakily. “Fuck. Oh, thank God!”

“What are you?—?”

Before she could finish her question, he enfolded her into his embrace and held her close. His arms tightening so much, they almost squeezed the breath right out of her.

He turned back toward the door and led her inside, still holding her protectively close. Uncaring of the fact that she was soaked and getting him all wet too.

Once he got her inside, he dragged his coat off her—a ruined mess—and dumped it to the floor, then held her at arm’s length to stare at her. He still had that same stark, almost relieved but also half-terrified, expression on his face.

He cupped her cheeks in his palm and for a very brief moment dropped his forehead to hers and just held her like that.

If Fern didn’t know better, she’d swear he was praying. Before she could figure it out, he dropped a hard, fierce kiss on her lips and stepped away from her, lowering his hands to her upper arms.

“You’re frozen solid,” he muttered, his voice gruff with suppressed emotion. “Come on, let’s get you into the shower and get some food in you. Then we can talk. Or you can sleep. Whichever you prefer, okay?”

She nodded, dismayed by the unexpected turn of events. She’d expected him to be asleep. She hadn’t for a moment believed he would come back downstairs after the way he’d stormed off earlier. She would’ve preferred he never knew of her ill-fated little foray out in the cold and dark. It would only reinforce his belief that she was somehow incapable of taking care of herself. Maybe have him start to wonder if Granger didn’t have the right of it after all.

He shocked her by scooping her sodden figure into his arms and striding upstairs uncaring of the fact that she was dripping on him and all over the floor as well.

“Put me down, Cade, I’m getting you wet.” Her sluggish brain formed the protest when they were halfway up the stairs already.

“I’ll survive,” he promised grimly, shouldering through her ajar door and taking her straight to the bathroom.

He deposited her gently on the floor.

“Into the shower immediately. As hot as you can stand it,okay?” He brushed her wet hair out of her face and stared at her intently. “Okay, Fern?”

“Okay,” she parroted obediently.

“Do you need help?”

She shook her head.

“Come right back down afterwards, you have to eat something. We don’t have to talk, but you need food.”

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