Ready-Made Bride

by Janelle Denison

  She recklessly ignored his warning. “If you’re trying to scare me away, don’t bother.” She stood on the toes of her sneakers so they were eye to eye, their mouths a whisper apart. “It’s too late. I already care.” Before he could respond, she softly skimmed her lips across his.

  It was the sweetest kiss he’d ever received, honest and pure and filled with everything missing from his life. She didn’t care what everyone said about him, wasn’t running from him like a smart woman would. Instead, she slid her hands around his neck, sank her fingers into the thick waves breaking over the collar of his jacket and pressed her body to his.

  An instant rush of heat swept through his veins. He gripped her hips with his hands to pull her away, but she wasn’t going anywhere. “Megan-”

  “Stop fighting what we both want so badly,” she whispered. She stared deep into his eyes, and he watched blue flames of desire leap to life in her gaze. “Please.”

  I believe in you. Her unspoken words filled him with a long-forgotten hope and sent him over the precarious edge he’d been teetering on. With a raw groan of surrender, he lowered his mouth to hers and parted her lips with the pressure of his.

  Sighing softly, she responded like a thirsty flower, opening to receive the slow, silken glide of his tongue across hers. He drank deeply of her, tasting a seductive blend of cinnamon, apples and a heated passion that made his head spin.

  The kiss was hungry, sexy and so thorough it left them both breathless and trembling when Kane finally dragged his mouth from hers. One look at her soft, aroused expression made him consider the pleasure he’d find if he invited her to his bed and took this encounter to its logical, fulfilling conclusion.

  Summoning every ounce of restraint, he set her away from him and started toward the stairs. He had to get away before he gave in to the temptation and promise shining in her gaze.

  “Kane?”

  The uncertainty in her voice tore at him. Schooling his features into a mask of cool indifference, he stopped and looked at her. And wished he hadn’t. The confidence she’d displayed moments ago had been replaced by a vulnerability that struck a chord in him. The susceptible emotion spoke volumes, telling him without words she wanted to be needed and loved. By him. The need he could deal with. It was the love part he had a problem with. Other than Andrew, he wasn’t willing to risk that part of himself.

  But neither did he want to hurt Megan.

  That last thought prompted him to temper his words. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you, but I’m going to walk away before we do something we regret. You obviously don’t know what’s bad for you.”

  She lifted her chin challengingly. “I know what’s good for me.”

  A grim smile claimed his lips. “You think you do, but, sweetheart, it sure as hell isn’t me.”

  Bleary-eyed, Kane stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He looked like death warmed over, and it was her fault. Dark stubble lined his slack jaw, and two bloodshot eyes mocked him.

  A sound of disgust rumbled in his chest. He’d spent a sleepless night tossing and turning, wanting Megan with an intensity he couldn’t ever remember experiencing before. The wanting went beyond sex and lust to something far more basic and elemental he didn’t want to acknowledge or analyze. Something buried and vulnerable and too damned fragile to risk. Even a cold morning shower hadn’t eased his hard and aching body. He didn’t think the deep craving for her would abate until she left Linden.

  He wondered if he’d survive that long.

  With a low, frustrated curse, he yanked on his jeans, then his blue chambray work shirt. Determined to keep his testosterone level to a minimum, he shoved his fingers through his damp hair and exited the bathroom. The delicious aroma of fresh brewed coffee greeted him, and he followed the scent, stopping on the way to make sure Andy was up and getting dressed for school.

  He walked into the kitchen and headed straight for the coffeepot. Megan stood at the counter, busy writing something on one of Andy’s doodle pads. She didn’t acknowledge his presence. A moment later, notepad and pencil in hand, she passed him on her way to the refrigerator.

  He retrieved a coffee mug, annoyed by her disregard and irritated with himself for allowing her disregard to bother him. He should consider himself lucky she hadn’t pitched a mug at his head for his barbaric behavior last night.

  “You’re up early,” he said, sounding more grizzly than he’d intended.

  She gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her dark-rimmed eyes. “I couldn’t sleep.” She inventoried the contents of his refrigerator, then jotted down a few notes.

  At least he wasn’t alone in his misery, he thought peevishly as he filled his mug with strong, black coffee. Bracing his hip against the counter, he took a drink and watched Megan dominate his kitchen.

  She crossed to the cupboards and scanned the staples on the shelves. A knee-length cotton sleep shirt covered her decently-until she stretched to move a few items around. The hem rose to her thighs, revealing slender legs that projected images of him skimming his hand up that smooth, soft skin. She abruptly turned and he lifted his gaze, making it only as far as her perfectly rounded breasts and the pebbled tips that strained against her shirt. His body responded with a rush of desire that tightened the front of his jeans.

  So much for keeping his testosterone under control.

  . He set his mug on the counter with a dull thud, grabbed a box of cereal from the cupboard and brought down a bowl. Breakfast would give him something to focus on.

  “You’ll have to pass on cereal this morning,” she said from behind him. “You’re out of milk. I’ll get some more today.”

  He turned and faced her, keeping his eyes above her neck. As if that made any real difference! If only her lips didn’t remind him how good she tasted, and how that soft mouth responded with such uninhibited passion. “No,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ll pick some up after work.” The last thing he wanted was to owe her, even for something as simple as groceries.

  She glanced up from her list, frowning. “I don’t mind-”

  “Neither do I.” He was being rude and unreasonable but couldn’t help himself.

  Her mouth pursed and her eyes flashed with a spark of blue fire. “Fine.” Ripping off the top sheet of paper from her pad, she thrust it at him. “Then I’ll assume you won’t mind picking up a few other things for me.”

  Everything within Kane froze. He stared at the paper she held out to him, that slow, sickening feeling he despised gradually traveling through his system.

  “Take it,” she said, forcibly slapping the paper into his hand. “God forbid I should do something nice for you.”

  “What’s this for?” His voice sounded rough even to his own ears.

  She gave him an odd look. “Just a few items you’re low on and a couple of things I need.”

  “A couple is two.” The turbulent emotions twisting through him raised his voice a few decibels. “There are at least fifteen items on this list.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that a problem?”

  It sure as hell was. “Is all this really necessary?” he snapped.

  She stared at him for a long moment, those incredible blue eyes of hers seeking a reason for his outburst. “Yes, it’s all necessary. I promised Andy we’d make chocolate chip cookies,” she said, as if that explained the entire list.

  How in the hell was he going to get out of this mess? His heart hammered in his chest, and he wanted to roar in frustration. “Won’t boxed cookies do?”

  “No.” She grabbed the list from him, anger tightening her normally soft features. “Since picking up the extra items is such a problem for you, I’ll handle it.” She whirled and marched out of the kitchen, muttering beneath her breath, “Grouch.”

  He cringed as she shut the bathroom door more forcefully than necessary. A mixture of relief and guilt flooded through him, but before he had a chance to cope with those mixed emotions, Andrew walked into th
e kitchen, frowning as he glanced from the direction Megan just headed to his dad. Was that a subtle accusation in his gaze, Kane wondered, or was his own remorse making him imagine his son’s speculation?

  “We’re out of milk for cereal,” Kane interjected quickly, unwilling to explain his conversation with Megan. “How about a waffle for breakfast?”

  “Okay.” Sliding into his seat, Andrew dug through the backpack on the chair next to where he sat and withdrew a red piece of paper. He put it on the table where Kane normally sat “This is for you. I forgot to give it to you last night.”

  Kane dropped a frozen waffle into the toaster, eyeing the paper from a distance. “What is it?”

  “It’s an invitation to open house at school next month,” he said without much enthusiasm, his gaze fixed on something on the table. “Mrs. Graham needs to know if you’ll be going.”

  “Of course I’ll be going.” How could Andrew think otherwise? “I haven’t missed an open house yet, have I?”

  “No,” came Andrew’s quiet reply.

  Kane frowned, wondering what had brought on his son’s pensive mood. “You don’t seem too excited about open house.”

  Andy shrugged and finally looked at his father. “I just hope Megan can come.”

  Ah, now he understood. Remembering the negative signals he’d sent Megan a few nights ago when Andrew had invited her to his open house, he experienced a moment of regret He’d hurt Megan, but it had been necessary. A one-week vacation was one thing, but Kane didn’t think he could survive her insinuating herself in their lives on a permanent basis. Especially after this morning’s fiasco.

  The browned waffle popped up, and Kane slathered it with butter, added syrup, then set it in front of Andrew. “She said she’d check her schedule when she got home. She might have other plans.”

  Andy’s eyes narrowed perceptively. “You don’t want her to come, do you?”

  Kane cringed as he poured hot coffee into his mug. “Andy, Megan has her own life in Seattle.” And we have our own lives in Linden, without Megan. I’d like to keep it that way, as much as possible, in order to save my sanity. “I don’t want you to be disappointed if she can’t be here.”

  Defiance lit up Andrew’s eyes. “She’s my special friend, Dad.”

  “I know you’re fond of Megan-”

  “I love her.”

  Andrew’s tone and expression were so serious that Kane found a bit of amusement in his son’s devotion until Andy followed it up. “Do you love Megan, Dad?”

  Kane took a careful drink of coffee. The question was asked innocently, and Kane didn’t think his son knew the depth of meaning to the word, but a well of emotions sprung to the surface and demanded his immediate attention. There was caring and need, and even a heady rush of desire…but nothing resembling the heartbreaking emotion of love. Thank God. “No, son, I don’t.”

  “Why not? She’s nice, and pretty, and she’s a good cook.”

  As if he hadn’t noticed. “Andy, Megan is nice, and pretty, but it’s just not the same thing as love.”

  Andrew’s shoulders slumped. “You just don’t know Megan like I do.”

  Kane knew enough about Megan to realize he could fall in love with her if he allowed himself. But he feared letting someone get that close again. Being in love meant trusting someone enough to bare your soul and share secrets. In his experience, the risk wasn’t worth the gain.

  Feeling a familiar bitterness rise to the surface, Kane dumped the rest of his coffee into the sink and grabbed his truck keys from the counter. He paused momentarily at the kitchen door, knowing he couldn’t leave without saying something to Andrew. But he couldn’t tell Andrew what he wanted to hear, either.

  “Have a good day at school,” he said, his tone soft. The woeful way Andrew looked at him nearly made his heart break. “And tell Mrs. Graham I’ll be there.”

  He slipped through the living room and out the front door just as Megan exited the bathroom.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “ARE you and Dad mad at each other?”

  Megan glanced at Andrew, who stood on a stool next to the counter, spatula in hand. With a weary sigh, she removed a sheet of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. She set them on the stove, thinking back to the night on the porch when the dissension started. “Your father and I had a…little difference of opinion.” She pulled off her insulated mitt, put it in the drawer and turned off the oven.

  Andy scooped up a warm cookie with his spatula and put it on the cooling rack. “About what?”

  About how much a kiss meant. About how two people are skirting around the sensitive issue of how they really feel about one another. “Just grown-up stuff. Nothing for you to worry about.”

  “But Dad hardly ever talks to you anymore.”

  “I think he just has a lot on his mind.” Like inventing different ways of avoiding me.

  She’d been shameless in her approach on the porch, but she didn’t care, and she didn’t regret her actions, not if that’s what it took to get through to the stubborn man and make him realize he was good and kind…and certainly not the monster the people of Linden believed him to be. He could no more have killed his wife than he would harm Andrew. She knew it and believed it, so why couldn’t he?

  Her plan had backfired. While she’d reveled in his earthy, sensual kiss, he’d retreated. He’d warned her to stay away, that she didn’t know what was bad for her, but as she’d told him. it was too late. What she felt for Kane was overwhelming and a little frightening in its intensity, but she wouldn’t and couldn’t deny her growing emotions, despite his continual attempts to push her away. This morning’s ridiculous argument was a perfect example of his stubbornness.

  Andy stacked warm, fragrant cookies on a small plate. “Maybe you could take Dad some cookies and talk to him,” he suggested, licking smeared chocolate from his fingers.

  Megan shook her head. “I’d better not.”

  “Please?” He looked at her with hopeful brown eyes. “Dad loves homemade chocolate chip cookies. Maybe if you take him some of yours he won’t be so grouchy.”

  Megan smiled, appreciating Andrew’s creative attempt to get her and his father to reconcile. “I doubt cookies will change his attitude,” she said, wiping the counter.

  He grabbed her arm and waited for her to look at him. “Please, Megan? I want Dad to like you as much as I do.”

  Gently, she cupped his cheek in her palm, wanting to tell him that you couldn’t force someone to like you. The feelings were either there or they weren’t. Judging by that kiss, there was a definite spark between her and Kane, but sex and like were two different issues.

  But when Andrew looked at her as if she had hung the moon and stars, she found it difficult to refuse his request. God, she was going to miss him. She knew a huge, empty void would fill her when she left.

  Knowing she didn’t want to spend the next few days with this awful tension between her and Kane, she smiled at Andrew. “Okay, sweetie, I’ll give it a shot.”

  Andrew threw his arms around Megan’s waist and hugged her tight. “Thanks, Megan!”

  “Yeah, well, let’s just hope your father doesn’t bite the hand that feeds him.” They broke apart, and Megan tapped his nose. “While I’m talking to your dad, why don’t you water those pansies and gardenias I planted out front?”

  He gave her a dimpled grin that made her melt. “Okay.”

  Megan picked up the plate of cookies and headed for the back door, wondering if sweets truly could tame this savage beast.

  The high-pitched whine of a power saw filtering from the barn made Megan wince. She hesitated at the entrance, debating on whether she really wanted to do this when Kane had made it abundantly clear, in his words and actions, that he preferred being alone while she was here.

  Shifting on her feet, she glanced over her shoulder. Andy stood at the flower bed, spraying a stream of water at the colorful flowers she’d planted and watching her at the same time. He gave her an encouraging
thumbs-up sign, and she knew she couldn’t back out now.

  Running her fingers through her hair, she drew a deep breath to calm the nerves tumbling in her stomach. She moved into the cool interior of the barn, cookies in hand. Kane’s back was to her, and he hadn’t heard her enter. She stood there for a moment, discovering a fascination in watching him in an element where he seemed so comfortable.

  He grabbed a measuring tape from his worktable and measured the huge slab of pine he’d just cut, then made marks on the wood with a pencil. He put on his protective glasses, hefted the scroll saw and cut out the scalloped edges. The scent of sawdust filled the air, blending with other tangy, woodsy smells. Particles of dust and wood settled on his black hair and broad shoulders.

  The muscles beneath Kane’s blue chambray shirt bunched and rippled as he maneuvered the saw to his whim. Her gaze drifted lower, to the way soft denim outlined his firm buttocks and strong thighs. The man had an incredible body, powerful and lean and down-to-earth sexy. Her pulse acknowledged the attraction with a sudden flutter.

  When he turned the power tool off and set it on the worktable, Megan decided to make her presence known. “What are you making?”

  The fingers running over the rough edges of wood stilled but he didn’t glance in her direction. “A headboard.” His tone was abrupt and flat and didn’t encourage conversation.

  Megan experienced a twinge of annoyance. Determined to chisel a few notches out of that damned emotional barrier he erected whenever she was near, she walked toward him. “For yourself?”

  “For my sister. Her birthday is in July.” He pulled off his plastic glasses and tossed them onto the table.

  “Diane, right?”

  “Yep.” Still he didn’t look at her.

  “Are the two of you close?”

  “Close enough,” he said brusquely, and grabbed a square piece of sandpaper.

  Boy, was he ever a wealth of information, she thought in mild irritation. Prying personal stuff from him was worse than trying to coax a turtle from his shell. “Does she see Andy very often?” she persisted.