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)
Chapter
Seven
“You’re not eating,” Cade said.
He’d nearly finished most of his flapjacks and bacon before noticing that Fern was only picking at her breakfast.
Fern lifted her shoulders self-consciously as she tucked a strand of hair that had escaped from her long, sloppy braid behind her ear
“I’m not very hungry,” she confessed, taking a sip of orange juice in the hopes that it would settle her stomach which had started acting up again. That was a mistake and she felt herself battling to retain her composure as her stomach instantly rebelled against the minute amount of liquid she’d swallowed.
Cade lowered his fork in alarm and stiffened.
“Jesus Christ, you look like death warmed over, what’s wrong?”
Fern shook her head and then clamped a hand over her mouth as the movement sent a wave of nausea surging upward from her belly. She groaned helplessly and leaped to her feet, swaying a little before she found her equilibrium and fled to her room. She barely made it in time, slamming the en-suite door behind her seconds before she knelt in front of the commode and made her offering to the porcelain god of all things wretched.
The door opened a scant minute later, but by that time Fern had already emptied the measly contents of her stomach and was rinsing the horrid taste from her mouth with some mouthwash.
Cade stood framed in the doorway, looking grim and uncertain.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice absolutely miserable, and his mouth thinned.
“What the hell was that?” He was all growly and a little menacing. Fern didn’t know why that voice gave her such a thrill, but she barely stopped herself from quivering at the sound of it.
“Morning sickness,” she explained, patting her mouth dry with a face towel. “It’s unpredictable but I’m luckier than most.”
“How was that lucky?” he questioned, somehow sounding even more growly and menacing than before.
“From what I’ve read it’s not as bad as a lot of other people, some can barely keep anything down. I can be okay for days and then suddenly this.”
“You need to see a doctor. You have no clue what’s normal and what’s not.”
“You still holding out some hope that this is all in my head and that I’m not really pregnant?” she asked, surprising herself by the amount of cynicism she could hear in her voice.
Well, the dark glare that settled over his face definitely matched his voice now.
“I think your ultrasound pretty much laid waste to any such hope,” he pointed out stiffly and she grimaced. Okay, so she wasn’t thinking very clearly right now. “Fern, you’re getting your healthcare advice from the internet. I don’t think I’m an absolute fucking monster for believing you should see an actual doctor to make sure you and your baby are okay.”
Her hand settled over her abdomen as she silently apologized to her baby for being such terrible mother.
“I know,” she acknowledged. “And you’re right, of course. I just haven’t had the opportunity to do so. Not with things the way they were.”
His mouth thinned and he nodded, the movement abrupt.
“Make an appointment somewhere first thing Monday, okay?”
“Yes.” She folded the hand towel neatly and placed it on the vanity beside the sink, meeting his troubled gaze shyly. “I’m sorry I ruined your breakfast.”
“I was mostly done anyway. Thank you. It was very good.”
“Really?” God, she was fishing for compliments, it was so obvious and pathetic. But Fern had rarely received praise from anyone in her life and she was a complete sucker for even the smallest of compliments.
He nodded again. The same curt gesture as before. His gaze was perceptive but he remained silent and she swallowed down her disappointment when he didn’t elaborate.
“I was thinking I’d take a walk?” And now she sounded like she was asking him for permission, but his expression didn’t change. Instead his beautiful eyes scraped over her features with razor sharp intent.
“A walk?”
“On the beach?” God, she’d really hoped to put more authority into that statement, instead she sounded like an uncertain child.
“We can go after the mist lifts,” he said and her jaw dropped in astonishment before she shook her head silently, struggling to find her words.
“Oh no,” she finally said on a rush of breath. “I meant alone.”
“You don’t want me to join you?”
“No, I mean yes. Only if you want to.” Why was talking to him so awkward? Fern wanted to curl up into a tiny ball and just pretend this whole stupid conversation was over. She covered her face with both hands and groaned, then parted her fingers to peek up at him. He was staring at her like she was some kind of alien creature that had mysteriously landed at his front door. And who could blame him? Fern couldn’t imagine he met many people as socially awkward as she in his usual circles.