Ready-Made Bride

by Janelle Denison

  Megan propped her elbows on the couch’s armrest, watching as Kane tended the fire. She wondered if he was still grieving over his wife and if that was part of the reason for the shadows and secrets she occasionally glimpsed.

  “Have you ever thought about getting married again?” she asked, her voice hushed, yet something-anticipation of his answer-made her chest tighten. Strange, considering she’d only met him two days ago. But she’d known him for a year and a half, she reminded herself, learning from Andrew that a gentle and compassionate person lurked beneath the sometimes brusque facade.

  “No.” He carelessly tossed another log on the fire, the muscles across his back rippling with the movement. Sparks filtered up the chimney, and heat radiated outward.

  “Haven’t found the right woman?”

  Balancing on the balls of his feet, he stared into the fire. “I haven’t been looking.”

  She couldn’t help but wonder if the right one did come along if he’d consider it. Her own marriage had been less than ideal toward the end, but she still believed one could find happiness with someone else. “What about Andrew?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her, one of his rare smiles threatening to make an appearance. “He’s too young to get married.”

  She made a face at him and earned herself a grin. The man could be charming, even humorous when he wanted to be. She suspected he’d deny it if she told him so. “That’s not what I meant. Doesn’t Andy deserve to have a mom?” She told herself she was only concerned for Andrew’s welfare, but the thought of another woman taking her place didn’t sit well.

  A wickedly dark brow arched. “Are you applying for the position?”

  Their gazes clung for several heartbeats. He was being facetious, but she couldn’t squelch the instinct in her that was rallying to say yes. She wanted to be a daily part of Andrew’s life.

  She drew her knees up, then wrapped her arms around them. “I only meant that Andrew should have the influence of a mother and father.”

  His amusement faded. The firelight played over his features, emphasizing the dark stubble grazing his jaw, and shining off his black hair like a tarnished halo. His eyes glittered like fired emeralds, frightening and hauntingly beautiful at the same time. “I’m not looking to get married again,” he snapped, straightening to his full height. “Andrew and I have done fine on our own, until you-” As he realized what he was saying, he clenched his jaw.

  “Came along?” she finished for him, hurt by his lash of angry words, although she knew she didn’t have a right to be. She meant nothing to him, despite her feelings for his son and her need to somehow be accepted by him, too. She was foolish to think she could mean something to him when it was apparent he shut out anyone who tried to get too close.

  He jammed his fingers through his hair, sat in the recliner across from the couch and released a harsh breath that whistled between his teeth. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

  The apology was stiff and gruff, as if he’d had to dig deep for it. “I understand.” And she did. She’d obviously touched on a sensitive issue, one that had unearthed the shadows of pain lingering in the aftermath of his anger. The urge to go to him, touch him, comfort him was so strong it nearly overwhelmed her. She hugged her knees tighter, unwilling to face possible rejection.

  Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees. “I know you care for my son very much, and it’s obvious he returns the feelings. He’s lucky to have you as a…friend.”

  And what about you Kane Fielding? Do you consider me a friend? Averting her gaze, she watched the dying flames flicker over the logs in the grate, trying to ignore the more intense heat of Kane’s eyes on her and the way her body responded with a shivery sensation.

  “What about you, Megan?”

  His quiet question startled her. “What about me?”

  His gaze flickered over her face with interest and curiosity. “Have you ever been married?”

  “Yes.” I’m sorry, Megan, our marriage is over. Having a family isn’t as important to me as it is to you. Kids will only get in the way of my legal career. Her belly clenched as her husband’s insensitive words whispered through her. “I’m divorced.”

  He cocked his head, looking boyishly appealing. “What fool let you slip away?”

  She couldn’t contain the bitter laughter that escaped her. Phillip Sanders was no fool. A callous jerk, yes, but at least he’d ended their marriage instead of stringing her along with empty promises he never intended to fulfill.

  She studied Kane, seeing no ulterior motives in his question. “I’m surprised you think so.”

  A noncommittal shrug lifted his shoulders. “I may not be in the market for a wife, Megan, but I’m not blind.”

  The honest compliment, although issued underhandedly, made her smile. If she wasn’t careful, she could fall hard for this man who tried so hard to maintain a tough and gruff, don’t-get-too-close-to-me attitude.

  She wasn’t blind, either.

  CHAPTER THREE

  CRISP bacon and fluffy scrambled eggs sure did beat the heck out of the bowl of cold cereal he usually ate with Andy in the morning. Stomach satisfied, Kane looked at the woman responsible for the delicious breakfast, ready to address the one concern that had nagged him all morning.

  He placed his napkin on his empty plate. “I have to warn you, Megan, people are going to talk today.”

  Turning from the plate she was rinsing in the sink, Megan grabbed a terry towel and dried her hands. A delicate auburn brow rose in surprise, and she glanced at herself, then at him. “Is it my dress?”

  Leaning back in his chair, he surveyed the garment in question. The peach floral material made her look soft, pretty and feminine. Her dress was appropriate for church, with tiny pearl buttons enclosing the blouse to her neck and a flowing skirt that reached well below her knees. She looked as chaste as a schoolgirl, but he knew the garments beneath contradicted her conservative appearance. He’d seen her pull the lingerie from her suitcase this morning before she’d gone into the bathroom to take a shower. He couldn’t stop imagining her in nothing but those skimpy panties that had looked as sheer as a sigh and a silky bra with more lace than substance.

  A surge of heat pooled in his lap, and he shifted in his seat, grateful for the loose khaki pants he wore. And that Andy had gone to wash his face and comb his hair. “Uh, no, the dress looks fine.”

  A fascinating combination of guile and sass danced in her eyes as she approached him. “My hair, then?” She touched the fancy braid she’d woven with the cinnamon and fire strands.

  He gave her credit for making light of the situation, but he knew too well how damaging the town’s speculation could be. She had a right to know what to expect today, or at least be prepared to handle the stares and whispers as she walked by.

  Settling herself in the chair across from him, she continued her lighthearted banter. “Do I have egg on my face? Or maybe bacon between my teeth?”

  Dammit, she’d pried a smile out of him again. “No, you look fine.”

  “Then what could everyone possibly have to talk about?”

  He sighed, struggling with the words. “Megan, this is a small town, and the people here have definite opinions and aren’t afraid to express them, even elaborate on what they perceive to be the truth. Sometimes those opinions hurt other people in the process. I have a feeling we’re going to give the gossips something to talk about.”

  Leaning an elbow on the table, she rested her chin in her palm, seemingly digesting what he’d told her. “Does that bother you?”

  “I’m used to it.” But as hard as he’d tried, he’d never grown immune.

  She tapped her finger against her cheek contemplatively. “So, is it true what they say about small-town gossip, that it spreads fast and furiously?”

  “Like wildfire around these parts.” And they always seemed to take a special interest in his business.

  An unladylike snort of disgust escaped her. “Don’
t they have anything better to do?”

  “Depends on whose business it is and just how titillating the gossip. Your staying here is like throwing a hungry pack of wolves a bone.”

  “Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “We’re adults, for goodness sake.”

  A grim smile thinned his lips. “I’m sure that’s exactly how they’ll see the arrangement.”

  “If they’re that catty, let them-” Her mouth snapped shut, and she visibly bristled like a lioness in defense of her little cub. “I don’t want Andy to suffer any backlash of me being here.”

  “He won’t.”

  “But you just said people will talk.”

  “Andy won’t hear any of it. The town, and gossips, are careful to curb their tongues around the Linden grandson.” Kane’s biggest fear after Cathy’s death was that Andy would hear the horrific rumors floating around about him, and believe them. So far, Andy was blissfully ignorant of his father’s reported reputation.

  Catching Megan’s frown, he said gently, “I just don’t want any of the gossip to hurt you in any way.”

  “Thank you for caring,” she said softly, making him realize that he did care. “But I can handle the heat if you can.”

  He shrugged. “Like I said, I’m used to it.”

  She leaned toward him and winked playfully. “Then let’s go give them something to talk about.”

  The gossips were out in full force. Walking down the side aisle of Linden’s only church to a vacant pew, Kane heard, “Who’s that woman with Kane?” He knew most of the crowd attending the Sunday morning service had come to their own scandalous conclusions about Megan.

  They’d arrived a few minutes late because Andy hadn’t been able to find one of his good leather loafers, but their tardiness worked to his advantage. Everyone was seated and waiting for Reverend Paul to make his appearance at the podium, sparing Kane the phoney politeness the hypocrites of Linden felt obliged to demonstrate to him on the Sabbath.

  Six rows from the front of the sanctuary, Kane paused to let Megan and Andy file into the empty pew. Andy breezed by, waving to his best friend, Corey, who sat two benches behind them. Megan met Kane’s gaze, and the radiant smile she gave him left him feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. Her perfume stirred his senses as she passed, adding to the heady feeling lingering from her smile. The effect she had on him was getting totally out of control.

  Damn. Giving himself a mental shake, he followed her into the pew and sat next to her. A family of five filtered into the same row and came up one seat short. Everyone shifted to give them more room, and Kane automatically scooted closer to Megan. Their knees bumped, and she quickly crossed her legs, but that didn’t keep his thigh from pressing into hers. The cramped quarters forced him to stretch his arm across the back of the bench to keep their shoulders from butting uncomfortably for the next hour.

  “Sorry,” she said, slanting him an apologetic look.

  He wasn’t. Sitting so close to her was pure torture, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like it. Unfortunately, their position appeared very intimate to their avid audience, one of whom was his mother-in-law. She sat on the opposite side of the church two rows ahead, her short blond hair immaculately coifed. She had a perfect view of the three of them if she craned her neck and moved to the left, which she had no compunction about doing in order to stare at Megan. Her icy blue gaze narrowed in disapproval, and her pink painted lips pursed. Her line of vision shifted to him, and he nodded in acknowledgment. Flustered at being caught, she quickly looked toward the altar just as Reverend Paul stepped to the podium.

  The next forty minutes passed slowly, and in every minute that ticked by he caught a covert glance aimed at Megan. Finally, Reverend Paul bid them all, “God be with you.” The crowd slowly filtered out of the church and into the bright sunshine. People broke off into small clusters to mingle and chat. Lightly touching Megan’s elbow when they reached the bottom of the steps, Kane guided her toward a grassy area where his boss from the lumber mill stood with his wife and two young boys.

  “I forgot to mention it sooner,” Kane said as they neared his boss, “but Andrew spends Sundays with his grandparents.”

  “It’s nice he has a regular day to visit them.”

  All part of the deal, and something Kane had learned to accept. “He won’t be home until later this evening.”

  She adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “If you’re worried about entertaining me, I’m very capable of finding something to do to keep myself busy for a few hours.”

  “Great.” So why did her plans interest him more than his Sunday afternoon ritual of spending time in his workshop to keep his mind occupied and off how quiet the house was when Andy wasn’t around? He should be glad she wouldn’t be bothering him.

  “Morning, Jeff.” Kane shook the hand of the tall blond man who’d been his only true friend over the years. He gave Jeff’s wife, Karen, a light kiss on the cheek. “Hello, Karen. You’re looking beautiful, as always.”

  She laughed and shook her head, her blond hair flowing around her shoulders like a cloud of silk. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Kane. Who’s your friend?” She openly eyed Megan, a speculative gleam in her brown eyes.

  “This is Megan Sanders. Megan, this is my boss, Jeff Gibas, and his wife, Karen. Their two boys are Tanner and Corey.” He motioned to the two tow-headed boys playing with Andrew a few yards away. “Jeff runs the lumber mill in town where I work.”

  Smiling, Megan shook their hands. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” Karen gave Kane a sly look. “Shame on you for not telling us you were seeing someone.”

  “I’m not,” he said, quickly defusing her insinuation. “This is Andy’s penpal.”

  Jeff chuckled, raising a brow incredulously. “Penpal?”

  “I write a children’s series called Andy’s Adventures,” Megan explained. “Andrew and I have been corresponding for quite some time now. I’m here for his birthday.”

  “Oh.” Karen didn’t look totally convinced, or else she wanted to believe something more significant was going on between him and Megan. “Well, welcome to Linden, Megan. If you get a chance, we’d love to have you and Kane and Andrew over for dinner.”

  “I don’t think she’ll have time for that,” Kane said before Megan could reply. He shuddered to imagine Karen alone with Megan. He was fond of Karen, but knew from her many comments about his lack of “female companionship” that she wouldn’t hesitate to do a little matchmaking.

  “See, I told ya she’d come, Corey,” Andy said smugly, coming up beside Megan.

  “Wow.” Blond, hazel-eyed Corey stared at Megan as if star-struck. “Are you really Megan Sanders, the one who writes the books?”

  She smiled, totally oblivious of the pedestal her young fans had put her upon. “Yes, I am.”

  “Awesome.” A slow smile crept across Corey’s face. “Do you think you could write a book about a boy named Corey?”

  She thought for a moment. “I’m pretty busy with my Andy series, but I don’t see why I can’t give Andy a friend named Corey.”

  Eyes as wide as half-dollars, Corey turned to Andrew. “Did you hear that, Andy? I’m going to be your friend in her book.”

  Andy gave Corey a high five. “See, I told you she was cool.”

  They stood talking for a few more minutes until Andrew grabbed Megan’s hand excitedly. “There’s Grandma and Grandpa. Come on, Megan, I want you to meet them.”.

  Kane shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and watched them go, struggling with the urge to tell Megan to stay. Patricia Linden never had anything good to say about her son-in-law, and a part of him hated that Megan would be subjected to that censure.

  Karen smacked him lightly on the arm with her small purse, bringing him around. “You’re just going to stand here and let Andrew feed her to the barracuda?”

  “Megan’s a big girl, Karen, and more than capable of taking care of herself.” It hadn’t tak
en him long to learn that. Megan was a strong individual in character and spirit, and he was confident she could handle anything the barracuda dished out. “Besides, Patricia’s problem isn’t with Megan, but me.”

  “Not judging by that viperous glare she’s giving Megan.”

  He refused to take Karen’s bait and turn to look. Besides, he’d never been any good at saving damsels in distress.

  Megan glanced one last time over her shoulder at Kane before facing the two people who seemed to bring so much joy to one little boy and so much heartache to one grown man. She’d yet to discover what the problem was, but she got the distinct impression the topic wasn’t up for discussion.

  They stopped in front of the older couple, who looked the epitome of wealth in their Sunday finery. The woman’s cool, assessing gaze swept the length of her, scathing in its intensity. The older man observed her with a reserved curiosity, apparently not having condemned her, as his wife instantly had. At least not yet, Megan thought, expecting the worst. The surreptitious glances cast their way by townsfolk, as if they anticipated a showdown of some sort, both amused and annoyed Megan.

  “Grandma and Grandpa, this is my bestest friend, Megan Sanders,” Andy announced proudly, a dimple appearing in his cheek.

  Patricia Linden sniffed indelicately, her gaze darkening with disdain. “You really came.”

  Megan manufactured a smile for Kane’s in-laws, determined to be gracious despite the tension humming between her and the older couple. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Linden.”

  Patricia looked at Megan’s extended hand as if it were a snake rearing its head. The woman blatantly ignored her attempt at pleasantry, but Megan held her hand steady, unwilling to let Patricia intimidate her. A silent battle of wills ensued.

  After long, uncomfortable seconds passed with neither one giving in, a large masculine hand slipped into Megan’s, firm and warm in its grip. “I’m Harold, Andy’s grandpa. Welcome to Linden.”

  Patricia glared at her husband. He smiled at her, unaffected by her simmering outrage.