Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 142976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
“I’ll be arriving next week. I’m taking some time off to spend Christmas with Gideon and Beth. We’ll talk then.”
“Okay.”
“How did the Mike Holmes thing go last night?”
The pre-recorded show would only air tonight.
“It went well,” he told his father. “Fern handled it like a pro. And uh… she—we—announced the pregnancy.”
“That’s good,” his father said. “And how’s she coping with all of that?”
“As well as can be expected,” Cade responded, feeling like a damned liar after the way she’d cried in his arms last night.
“You’ll be joining us for Christmas this year, right?” his father asked, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant and Cade frowned at the question.
“I’m not sure.” In truth, Gideon hadn’t invited him. And Cade wasn’t going to just show up unannounced at his brother’s place on a major holiday. Especially since he knew that Gideon and Beth had a tight-knit group of friends with whom they often spent important holidays. Something of a substitute family.
He ignored that pang of hurt at the thought of his brother preferring the company of friends over Cade’s. It’s not like he was Mr. Festive Cheer. He wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with himself either.
“It would be nice to see all of my children on Christmas again,” his father said pointedly.
“Even if I came, I doubt Nox will,” Cade pointed out. After his visit to Gideon’s the month before, Nox had pretty much gone silent again.
Cade hadn’t seen his other two siblings in person since that afternoon at Gideon’s place.
His father was still thickly slathering on the poor, neglected dad routine.
“I’ll see what Fern wants to do,” he interrupted his father’s “I’m not getting any younger” unconvincing feeble old man rant in mid-sentence and could practically feel the man’s satisfied smirk beaming across the connection.
“My daughters-in-law both appreciate me a lot more than my children do, so I’m sure the wee moppet will be eager to spend some time with her new family.”
“Sure, Dad,” Cade muttered, striving hard to keep the sarcasm at bay, but unable to refrain from rolling his eyes at the old man’s out of control ego. “I have to go. I have a few more calls to make.”
“Right. Take care of yourself and… Niall?”
“Aye?”
More hesitation before his father said, voice gruffer than usual, “I’m proud of you. For doing this. I’ve always been proud of you. Of all of you. But you and Kenny, you’re ruled by your heads. By logic. This… it’s far from logical, it’s emotional, but it’s the right decision.”
A long, awkward silence that followed that proclamation with Cade desperately casting about for something to say in response.
In the end it was his father who spoke first, “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll see you in Cape Town. Give Fern my best wishes.”
He severed the connection before Cade could say another word.
He lowered the phone to the arm of the sofa and stared blindly out—through the French patio doors—at the wet, bleak patch of greenery that passed as a garden at this townhouse.
This place didn’t have enough outdoor space. It had never mattered to him before, but after arriving here the day before yesterday, the first thing Fern had done was open those patio doors. There had been no missing the brief flash of disappointment in her eyes at the lack of view. And it had disturbed Cade immensely.
He knew how much she adored the view at his—their—Clifton apartment. He’d often found her just sitting on the sofa dreamily staring out at the blue horizon, with a forgotten cup of tea growing cold in her hands.
And after hearing her story about her friend, Cade’s need to take Fern back to the place she so obviously loved, had grown even more urgent. Most of her life she’d been made to stay in cramped quarters. Dorm rooms with other students, then sharing with a religious sister, and he’d seen her fucking room at Abernathy’s. It had been the size of a postage stamp compared to Cade’s lavish guest room.
This townhouse, while luxurious, simply wasn’t good enough for her.
He lifted his phone to check the time. It was just after eight. A month of sharing his living space with her, had familiarized him with her routine enough to know that she’d usually be awake by now. But last night had been emotionally and physically draining for them both and she might still be asleep.
He got up and made his way to the master bedroom. He’d left the door ajar and a quick peek inside confirmed that the drapes were still drawn. He quietly pushed his way into the room and crept toward the huddled form on the bed.
He stood—hands in pockets, mostly in an attempt to keep them to himself—and watched her sleep. Only her cheek, eye—lush dark eyelashes fanning over the skin below her eye—and light hair were visible. The rest of her was buried beneath the thick comforter.