Chapter 15: Finding Forever: Chapter 14

The following two weeks were uneventful. Cade and Fern barely acknowledged each other’s existence and only really spoke when they were out in public—at restaurants, or taking meandering strolls through popular marketplaces. Other than those rare outings, the happily married ruse wasn’t too demanding. When they were at his apartment, Fern was content to remain unseen, unheard… unobtrusive. It was not much different from her existence of the last fifteen years. Only, now she didn’t feel hunted, or afraid, or oppressed. In fact, Cade made no demands of her. He had no expectations of her. He was indifferent to her existence.

Friday morning, a full two weeks after their marriage, she received a phone call from Beth.

“Hi there,” the woman greeted, her voice shy and hesitant. “It’s Beth… uh Beth Hawthorne.”

Fern smiled at the unnecessary addition.

“Hello Beth, how have you been?”

“Crazy busy trying to stay on top of my contracts.” Beth was a freelance technical writer. “I wanted to get them all done before going on leave for Christmas. Gideon told me it was an impossible task, but I’m all caught up and thought the best way to rub his nose in the fact that I’m not only caught up, but ahead of schedule, is to take the afternoon off. I deserve it, right?”

Fern’s smile widened at the hint of defiance that crept into the woman’s voice.

“Of course, you do.”

“D-damned straight I do,” the other woman said with a soft chuckle. “So, I was wondering if you had some time to go on that shopping trip with me today?”

Fern, who had been lolling on her bed, absently twirling a strand of hair around her index finger sat bolt upright, as her heart thudded with excitement.

“Seriously?”

“I know…” The other woman cleared her throat awkwardly. “I know it’s last minute but⁠—”

“Yes!” Fern interrupted her, excitement fizzing through her veins. “Yes, I’d love that.”

“Oh. Well then⁠—”

“Where can we go for this? I mean I don’t… I’ve never…” How pathetic to admit, even to herself, that she’d never really been shopping.

“Why don’t we start at the Waterfront? And work it out from there?”

“Yes.”

“I can meet you at your apartment. Do you think Cade will be okay arranging a driver for us? If not, I’m happy to drive us.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. What time?”

“In about an hour?”

“I’ll see you then.”

They said their goodbyes and Fern hung up with a little squeak of excitement. She leaped from bed—still in her T-shirt and panties—and made her way to the massive closet, where her meager—unimaginative—collection of skirts and blouses hung and contemplated what to wear, excited by the knowledge that she’d soon have more interesting and fun choices.

She didn’t know what she liked yet, and it was daunting to even think about figuring it out but⁠—

Her thoughts ground to an abrupt halt as she remembered something. She groaned in dismay, as she chewed on her lower lip and contemplated her most immediate concern.

She had no choice, she had to speak to Cade about this, and that meant bearding the dragon in his den.

After a moment’s hesitation, she threw back her shoulders and padded from her room… once in the hallway her confidence deserted her and she tiptoed toward his study door, her bare feet making no sound on the heated tiled floor. She stood outside the closed door for a good minute and a half before raising her hand to knock.

Her arm was in its downward motion when the door swung open unexpectedly and her fist missed its connection with the wood of the door and landed instead on the equally hard surface of his collarbone.

They both froze in shock, while her fist remained curled up against his warmth, just below the strong pulse in his neck.

He swallowed, and she stared at the movement of his throat in fascination.

He recovered first and stepped back, forcing her hand to fall into the space between them. She immediately snatched her fist to her chest, covering it with her other hand, as she stared up at him mutely.

He was in full business wear as always, his black rimmed reading glasses adding to his stern and intimidating appearance.

“Any particular reason you’re staked out at my office door, Fern?” His voice was quietly curious and snatched Fern out of her embarrassing stupor.

“Uh, yes, sorry.” His impatient sigh confused her and she floundered.

“You apologize too much,” he said, his voice a low growl.

Fern gulped down her nerves, before blurting an instinctive, “Sorry”—then winced, when she realized what she’d just done and—“Sorry!”

Oh man, what was wrong with her?

“Yes, we’ve gathered that you’re sorry.” The impatient growl was now an insouciant purr and it put Fern even more on edge. “Do you mind progressing beyond these apologetic bleats? We’re running out of daylight fast.”

Fern decided to ignore his mockery in favor of more urgent matters.

“Yes, of course. Right. Beth called. We’re going shopping. Well, she asked if I wanted to go shopping and I said yes, but I just realized that I don’t… well…” She cringed. “I don’t have any money.”

“You do have money,” he told her, still that sexy, nonchalant purr. “Quite a lot of it, in fact, but it’s still tied up due to Abernathy’s bloody mindedness.”

Her stepfather’s attorneys had placed an injunction on the release of her funds and had petitioned for an emergency interdict, pending investigation around the “suspicious” circumstances of their marriage.

His efforts were being hampered by images of Fern and Cade walking on the beach two weeks ago. The photographs had been published in gossip rags around the world, last week. So many pictures of them holding hands, sitting in the sand, of Fern playing in the waves, of Cade giving her a piggyback ride. She didn’t even know who’d taken them. Cade had also claimed to be unaware of the lurking photographer.

But the sneaky pap had done them a favor in this instance. Because, even to Fern, they’d looked like a happily honeymooning couple.

It must’ve enraged Granger and the thought of his frustration was extremely satisfying. But it didn’t solve her immediate problem.

Cade had turned away from her and strode to his desk, while Fern helplessly admired his long, confident stride as he rounded it to open one of the drawers from which he withdrew an envelope. He tossed it on the uncluttered surface of his desk.

Task complete, Cade sat down on his massive leather chair, and nodded toward the envelope, steepling his fingers, as he watched her hesitant approach.

“What’s this?” she asked, reaching for the envelope with tentative fingers. It wasn’t very bulky; just a plain, white, standard-sized envelope. It wasn’t sealed, and she turned it over to lift the flap, reaching inside cautiously.

“It’s not a venomous spider, Fern,” he chastised. His voice had been mild but it still startled her into snatching her fingers away, and she looked up in time to see him roll his eyes.

Feeling foolish, she berated herself for being an idiot, and reached into the envelope again to withdraw an Amex Black credit card. She blinked at it in confusion and turned it over in her hands. It had her name on it.

Her married name, which—thanks to an expedited process—had been officially changed a week ago.

F I Hawthorne

“But how⁠—?”

“Consider it an advance.”

“I can’t take your money.”

“I’ve set up a household account in both our names and transferred some funds into it. To all intents and purposes, it’s our money. For the management of our home.”

“But I haven’t contributed anything to it yet.”

“I’m confident that—once we’ve dealt with your stepfather’s petty, obstructive bullshit—you’ll repay whatever amount you’ve spent. Not that I give a damn if you do, mind you. But I suspect that you do. Give a damn that is…”

His gaze swept over her and he blinked, then frowned, then ever so slowly removed his glasses to sweep that blinky, frowny gaze over her once more.

“What the fuck are you wearing right now?” he asked, his voice curiously hoarse as his eyes paused—ever so briefly—on her naked thighs, before almost scurrying up to meet her stare.

For the first time, Fern remembered that she was still in her sleep clothes, and that—in her haste to talk to him—she hadn’t bothered to drag on a skirt as she normally would do.

Still her T-shirt was long enough to cover her to mid-thigh. She was showing less skin than she would in a bathing suit. Not that he’d seen her in a bathing suit either, mind.

And she was suddenly very conscious—when his gaze dropped to her chest—that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Especially when her traitorous nipples peaked beneath the burning intensity of his stare.

“Sor—” A shockingly menacing growl from her very urbane looking husband, halted the apology mid-word. She folded her arms over her chest and hunched her shoulders—pretty much the most apologetic body language ever—before shrugging defensively. “It’s my sleepshirt.”

“You sleep in a Cannibal Holocaust T-shirt?” He sounded understandably incredulous and Fern unfolded her arms to grasp the hem of her faded T-shirt and stretch it out in front of her, as she inspected the flaking red print on the black fabric.

“I also have Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Hills Have Eyes one and two, and Saw among others.”

“I had no idea you were such a slasher flick fan.”

Fern wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

“I’m not. One of my friends at school”—her only friend, the one who had tried to help her and had had her entire life destroyed in the process—“had a boyfriend who loved these movies. When they broke up, she had a bunch of his T-shirts and she gave them to me. Before that I slept in these long, restrictive awfully itchy nightgowns, courtesy of my loving stepsisters.”

“So, instead, you sleep in some random guy’s shirts every night?” He looked—well Fern couldn’t tell exactly how he looked, but the word that came to mind was displeased. His eyes had narrowed and his lips thinned. Yes… definitely displeased.

And affronted.

“I didn’t know him very well. Okay, suffice to say, I didn’t know him at all. Not in person. The only thing I really know about him is that he has questionable taste in movies.”

“And he’s not very tall,” Cade muttered between gritted teeth, his eyes falling to her thighs again. “My T-shirts on you would fall to a couple of inches above your knee.”

Why did he sound so smug about that?

Not certain how to react to his strange behavior, Fern closed her palm around the credit card and held it up.

“Thank you for this. It’s very thoughtful. And I will pay you back.”

She got nothing but a grim, unsmiling nod in response to that.

“Where are you and Beth going?”

“She’s meeting me here. She said something about the Waterfront?” His brow furrowed in response to her words but he didn’t say anything. “Oh, that reminds me… do you think you could arrange a driver for us?”

“That won’t be a problem. Tell Beth to park in the underground garage and come up when she gets here.”

“Okay. Thank you. I should get ready.”

Another grim nod.

“I’ll see you later then.”

Cade watched Fern retreat, his eyes once again falling to her slender thighs. He’d been tempted to drag the hideous thing off her for so many more reasons than the obvious desire to see her naked.

One: the violent subject matter was at odds with her quiet, gentle personality.

Two: yes okay, he was very aware that she only had on a pair of panties—if that—beneath that shirt and that all it would take to get her naked was a quick yank of the thing over her head.

Three: the ugly black T-shirt was a stark, unpleasant contrast against her skin.

Four through ten: it belonged to another man and had no fucking business being anywhere near her soft skin.

Cade pinched the bridge of his nose, in a vain attempt to ward off the encroaching headache. He scrubbed his hands over his face, and bit back a groan as he once again thought about those pretty, naked legs. He wished he’d never asked the doctor about sex during her pregnancy.

After their conversation he’d read up on it and fuck… now he couldn’t think of anything else. And seeing her in nothing but that shirt had had a depressingly predictable effect on his body.

It didn’t help that Cade hated failing and their one encounter together could not be classified as anything other than a failure. And while before—when there had been little chance of him ever seeing her again—he’d been happy to relegate it to the past. Now, when he was stuck seeing her every day, the idea of fixing that mistake was quickly becoming an all-encompassing obsession.

And he needed to put it the fuck out of his mind.

Or go insane.

He shook his head and reached for his phone, with a few quick taps on the screen he secured a driver/guard for Fern and Beth’s shopping excursion. He’d been tempted for a few seconds to do the driving and insert himself into their day, but reason had won out almost immediately.

It would be a dick thing to do. He recognized that. Fern needed friends, and Beth could be a real friend to her. Having him there would make both women too nervous to relax around each other.

He knew that, and yet, he still selfishly wanted to tag along. And he couldn’t isolate the reason why.

He glared unseeingly at his computer screen, hating the upheaval and confusion Fern’s presence in his life was creating. The least complicated thing about his marriage to Fern was removing her assets from Abernathy’s sticky grasp. Despite Abernathy’s pathetic attempts to delay the process, untangling that mess was proving shockingly easy compared to living with her, and seeing her every day. And knowing that inside her another heartbeat was growing stronger and more deafening by the minute.

A heartbeat Cade wouldn’t be able to ignore for much longer. Much as he might wish to.

It turned out that figuring out what she liked wasn’t as hard as Fern had imagined it would be. It helped to be around a confident shopper like Beth. The woman had a great eye for what would suit Fern and had prodded her in the direction of a few dresses and jumpsuits she would never have dared to try out by herself.

Still, it was a daunting task… she needed everything. Underwear, sleepwear, casual, formal, beach, leisure, the list was endless when you were starting from scratch.

And as they sat sipping milkshakes after a long, lazy lunch, Fern stared at the woman who was fast becoming a friend and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Beth asked, looking up from her Belgian chocolate shake.

“I feel like we haven’t even scratched the surface yet.” And they hadn’t. So far, she’d bought several pairs of shoes, mostly sneakers. Skirts—which had depressed her since she already had an endless supply of skirts. And underwear. She’d stuck with basic cotton panties and bras until Beth had rolled her eyes and steered her toward some very risqué lingerie. She now had lacy bras, thongs, chemises, and teddies. None of which she was certain she’d ever wear.

“We’re laying a foundation,” Beth reassured. “Figuring out what you like, what sizes you take. Get some mix and matches to wear right now, so that you can chuck those skirts and blouses. We’ll definitely do this again. Next time I’ll invite my friend Cat along, she’s so good at knowing what suits people. You’ll like her and it’ll be fun. And you can also do some online shopping if you find the prospect of going out to shop too overwhelming.”

“Are you tired?” Fern asked, watching as Beth unsuccessfully attempted to smother a yawn.

“Oh, no,” the other woman said with a smile. “Not tired. A little sleepy maybe. Gideon and I are trying for a baby and… well we can be both very goal oriented and we were extremely focused on our mission last night.”

“Oh.” Fern’s cheeks went pink, while Beth grimaced and covered her mouth with her palm to stifle a giggle.

The other woman’s face had also gone red.

“I’m so sorry. Maybe I am more tired than I realized,” she said with a horrified giggle. “I didn’t mean to tell you that.”

Fern laughed, and shook her head, waving the woman’s embarrassment aside.

“Don’t be silly, I spent my adolescence in a boarding school. Trust me, I’ve heard much worse,” she said with a wry chuckle. “So you guys are trying for a baby? That’s a huge step. Exciting.”

“I know. And I am excited, but also a little terrified. A baby will change everything. I can’t imagine being a mother. I like to be as prepared as possible for any new challenge. I do a lot of research… it’s my livelihood after all and ingrained into my personality. But everything I’ve read warns that no amount of research can ever adequately prepare you for the reality of parenthood. I’m not easily intimidated but I must admit to finding that thought a little terrifying.”

Fern gnawed at her upper lip, watching Beth apprehensively, the woman’s words sending a shudder of fear down her spine. Beth picked up on her mood immediately. “Fern? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost? Are you feeling ill?”

“I’m pregnant… And I’m nowhere near as prepared for this as you are. I feel like I’m doing everything wrong,” she admitted. The words, rushed and breathless, emerged like a confession.

Beth gaped at her for a few seconds, jaw slack, before she gathered herself with admirable swiftness and stared at Fern with a somber intentness that she wasn’t quite sure what to make of.

“Is Niall… is he the father?” she asked tentatively and Fern’s eyes widened in horror as she understood how confusing her admission must be in light of the arrangement between her and Cade.

“Yes. We—uhm—we met before, remember? At the gala?”

“Oh, yes. I thought… well I didn’t realize you actually met there. I thought it was a story for the press, to make the marriage more believable. So, at the gala… that’s when you and Cade—” She made a vague gesture that meant absolutely nothing and yet set Fern’s cheeks on fire.

“Yes, we did. And we… yes. Just one time. He used protection,” she was quick to assert, not wanting Beth to think badly of Cade. “But well… here we are.”

“And he knows? Niall—Cade—he knows?”

“Yes, but this baby is mine alone. It’s the reason I came to him with this arrangement. I want to keep it. My stepfather would’ve used this pregnancy to manipulate me and fully control my inheritance. I couldn’t let him do that. I came to Cade for protection… for me and my baby. I get the baby and my inheritance. Cade gets my mother’s company.”

“And he’s okay with that? Revoking all responsibility and claim to the baby?”

“Yes. I don’t think a baby was ever part of his plan. Not right now anyway. And certainly not with me.”

“But your arrangement is for three years. How does that work? How does he remain distant from a child who is basically growing up in his home?”

“One thing I’ve learned about Cade these last two weeks…” Fern whispered, her voice barely discernible above the noise of the crowded restaurant. “He’s very good at maintaining his distance. If he doesn’t want to see you or be around you, it doesn’t matter if you exist in the same space that he does… he’s a ghost.”

Or maybe it was Fern who was the ghost. She couldn’t be certain; all she knew was that what she and Cade were doing could hardly be classified as co-habiting. Not when they never saw each other. Or heard each other. All they found were echoes of the other in recently vacated rooms. The lingering scent of cologne, the still warm couch seat, a coffee mug left in the kitchen sink…

“And you’re okay with that?” Beth asked, looking troubled.

“That’s the arrangement.” An evasion if ever there was one.

“I see.” She worried her lower lip between her thumb and index finger. “Do you want me to keep this news—about the baby—from Gideon?”

Oh. Fern hadn’t even considered that possibility, she’d opted to confide in her new friend, not once thinking of the awkward position within which she was placing the other woman. She had so much to learn when it came to closer relationships and friendships.

“I’ll tell Cade I told you. If you wouldn’t mind holding off for a while, and maybe giving him a chance to tell the family first? I’d really appreciate that. I’m sorry, I know I’ve put you in a bit of a bind now.”

“What? Don’t be silly. I hope we’re becoming friends, Fern. And if you want me to keep your secret from my husband, I will. It’s not my place to tell him.”

“But…”

“No buts…” Beth said adamantly. “Gideon and I are best friends, but we respect each other’s privacy.”

How lovely it must be to share a relationship like that with someone.

“Thank you, I just have no one to talk to about it. And Cade is the only other person who knows but as you can imagine, anything to do with the baby is a little awkward and I don’t think either of us is very comfortable talking about it with the other. I’m excited about my pregnancy and Cade definitely isn’t. There’s no overcoming that and I just⁠—”

“You needed a confidante,” Beth said with a smile. “And that’s okay. I’m here if you want to talk. And obviously, with us hopefully being only a few months apart on the same journey, we can support each other through this. Ooh, and this means we’re going to have to factor maternity wear into this new wardrobe of yours.”

Fern smiled as well and for the first time in a long, long time, finally felt like she had someone in her corner. Her relief and gratitude was almost dizzying and the happiness blooming in her chest felt too good to be true.