Ready-Made Bride

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 the 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