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)
Fern and her baby had no business in this man’s life and—no matter what he’d said or done since—she was better off remembering those words, spoken in an honest, unguarded moment.
The only thing more certain than death or taxes was the fact that this marriage would end. There was no if about it.
She worried at her lower lip, and set aside her own bruised feelings about a conversation that he had no idea she’d overheard, and focused on what he was saying right now. He was right about Beth, of course. Fern had unfairly sidelined the woman because of her fears.
She hoped it wasn’t too late to rectify that mistake.
“What are you thinking?” Cade asked. The quiet words brought her eyes up to his and she realized that he asked her that question, or some variation of it, quite often. Why was he always so interested in what was going on in her mind?
“I was—"
“There she is!” The booming voice interrupted her reply and startled them apart.
Cade’s face settled into an irritated glare, while Fern’s wide, shocked gaze swiveled around to see her father-in-law standing just inside the front door. “Come over here lass, let me look at you.”
“Fuck me,” Cade muttered beneath his breath and—coming out of her dazed surprise—Fern angled an amused look at him before obediently walking toward James Hawthorne who enfolded her into an enthusiastic bear hug.
“Mother of my first grandchild. D’ye hear that, Elizabeth Anne? What have you been doing this last year and half? Slacking off? You let this wee fae lass beat you at the post.”
Beth rolled her eyes irreverently.
“Happy as always to disappoint you, Old Man,” she replied cheekily. “Now, how about you unhand the pregnant woman—I’m pretty sure you’re squashing her—and set the table?”
Fern’s eyes widened in horror and she wriggled out of the man’s hug, before straightening her hair self-consciously.
“Oh, there’s no need for that, Beth,” she said. “I’m happy to…”
“No Fern,” Beth said, her voice implacable as she kept her narrowed gaze on her father-in-law. “You just sit buh-back and relax. If this old man is going to be free… freeloading in our home for the next three weeks, he’s going to have to make himself useful.”
Fern watched in awe as James Hawthorne, one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in the construction industry, grumbled good-naturedly and—after giving Cade a quick self-conscious one-armed hug—obediently followed his tiny daughter-in-law’s directive.
“And try not to break anything this time,” Beth told him, coming to stand beside Fern and crossing her arms over her chest as she watched a grinning Gideon reacquaint his father with the layout of their kitchen.
Fern wound an arm around Beth’s waist and leaned toward her to confide, “I want to be just like you when I grow up.”
Beth giggled in response.
“You just have to kuh-keep him on his toes. He’s nev… never had to do for himself and he thinks all of this is some massive adventure. Y’know, living like the ordinary folk do? He’d get sick of it if he had to stay for longer than just a few weeks. Buh-but he really enjoys the novelty of cleaning up behind himself, fuh-folding laundry, doing the dishes…”
“Beth,” Fern whispered, scandalized. “You make him do the dishes? But you have a dishwasher.”
Beth’s eyes twinkled up at Fern over the rims of her glasses and she laughed wickedly.
“Yes, we do… but since he doesn’t have a clue what a dishwasher even looks like, we’re g-good. Gideon and I always wind up loading all the dishes Dad ‘cleaned’ into the dishwasher after he goes to bed anyway. But he has—uhm—he has no idea.”
“Well, he won’t be hearing it from me,” Fern said.
“Or me,” Cade—who’d been listening in on their conversation in open amusement—vowed.
“Where does he sleep?” Fern asked curiously, her eyes scanning the small living room. After her last visit, Fern knew that there were only two bedrooms in this house, but James Hawthorne had come in through the front door just now, not from one of the rooms.
“In our h-house across the street.” Beth and Gideon’s second house was their workspace and also had a couple of bedrooms. “We’re both on holiday at the moment so it’s fine having him stay there and it’s great because we all still have our privacy. I don’t know why, but he really loves staying here. I think it’s his version of roughing it.”
She exchanged another conspiratorial grin with Fern and Cade.
Dinner was an informal buffet of cold meats and salads and instead of sitting at the small dining table, they all crowded into the living room with plates perched on their knees. There weren’t enough chairs and Cade shocked Fern by sitting on the floor in front of her, his broad back resting against her legs.
Her eyes kept tracing over his shoulders, the back of his head, unable to quite believe that he was so casually sitting on the floor. He was wearing well-worn blue jeans tonight. And Fern had done a double take when she’d first seen them. The faded seams and obvious wear on the fabric indicated frequent use, and yet she’d never seen him in them before tonight. Which was a damned crime, since the man filled a pair of jeans very, very nicely. No sag in the front or the back. He’d combined the jeans with his old, comfy-looking, running shoes and a red T-shirt.