Kane scrubbed a hand over his jaw, hating the disappointment in Andrew’s voice, and that he’d caused it. “No, it’s not that-”
“Will you at least read the letter she wrote?” he asked, a hopeful catch to his voice.
Kane stared at the piece of paper Andrew extended toward him, then casually moved to the sink and turned on the tap. “Why don’t you read it to me while I wash up?”
Kane listened to his son recite the letter, about Megan telling him she’d love to drive out and visit and stay with them as long as it was okay with his dad. Kane cringed. Great, she was leaving the decision up to him.
Once Andrew was done, he looked at Kane expectantly. “So, can she come, Dad, please?”
Wiping his hands on a dish towel, he released a long breath. “I don’t think her staying with us is a good idea.”
“Why not?”
He gave Andrew a pointed look. “Because it’s not proper.” He hadn’t so much as dated since his wife, Cathy, had died, at least not anyone in town. He could just imagine what a field day the gossips would have if they discovered he had a woman staying with him, no matter how platonic the arrangement.
Tears welled in Andrew’s eyes and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “This is all I want for my birthday. I was gonna take her to school to meet all my friends. I told them she was coming, and if she doesn’t, they’re gonna think I was lying.”
Kane’s heart twisted. Andrew rarely asked for anything, and he hated denying him the one thing he wanted so badly. Pushing his fingers through his thick hair, he turned his head and glanced out the kitchen window. He knew people would talk and speculate, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d been under scrutiny. And when did he care what the small-minded people of Linden thought, anyway?
“Please, Dad?” Andrew whispered.
How could he say no? Making Andrew happy was his main concern. And if having Megan nearby meant so much to his son, he was willing to take a little heat to give him his wish. Megan was, after all, just a friend visiting. A purely normal occurrence, he told himself, just as long as she didn’t expect him to entertain her.
“She can stay here,” Kane said on an expelled rush of breath.
Andrew’s eyes grew round with delight and he danced around excitedly. “Yippee! Come on, Dad, let’s go call her!” He raced into the living room.
Kane followed at a more leisurely pace, wondering what, exactly, he’d gotten himself into.
Megan Sanders’s heart faltered as she stared at the sight in front of her. A man, a
This had to be Kane Fielding, she thought, tamping the sudden fluttering in her belly that had little to do with the nerves she’d been experiencing on her two-day drive to Linden.
Busy concentrating on his carpentry, he hadn’t heard her pull up to the main house or enter the barn. Breathing in the scent of man, sawdust and linseed oil, she watched as he sanded a flat piece of wood, then slowly caressed the length with long, strong fingers. He turned to examine the oak in the light, giving her a glimpse of his sharp, defined features and a full, sensual mouth. He was, by far, the most blatantly sexy man she’d ever encountered.
Knowing she couldn’t just stare at him forever, she cleared her throat. “Excuse me?”
He whirled around, piercing green eyes narrowing on her. She’d envisioned Andy’s father to be a larger version of the blond-haired boy, not this…renegade.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, willing her pulse to a normal cadence. “I just tried the main house, but no one answered the door.”
He watched her walk fully into the barn and approach him, his expression darkening, turning cautious. His mouth was firm, unsmiling, and his brooding gaze raked over her. So much for a warm welcome, she thought apprehensively. Maybe she had the wrong house. Her smile faltered.
“Can I help you?” His voice was deep, smooth and rich, belying the chilling intensity of his eyes.
“I’m hoping you can.” She offered a smile. “Are you Kane Fielding?”
“Yeah, I’m Kane Fielding.” Laying the wood on a nearby makeshift table cluttered with tools, he faced her again. He rested his hands on his hips, his stance defensive. “What can I do for you?”
Ignoring his ominous frown, she took the three final steps that separated them and extended her hand. “I’m Megan Sanders.”
Obvious relief relaxed his features but didn’t erase the caution.
Tentatively, he grasped her outstretched hand, his long fingers wrapping around her slender hand. Heat radiated up her arm, and her heart thumped in her chest. The swift, irrational attraction knocked her for a loop but oddly felt right. She’d learned enough from Andy’s letters and her brief conversations with his father to know she’d like Kane, but she never dreamed she’d have this instantaneous response to him. Like she’d known him for years instead of only a handful of minutes.
Crazy, but the feeling was undeniably there.
“It’s amazing what a makeup artist can do with straight hair and ordinary features,” she said in an attempt to lighten the mood. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Kane let go of her hand, thinking she was far prettier than the small, black-and-white glamor shot printed on the back flap of her books-the one Andrew showed him every time he received one of Megan’s books. ordinary features? Hardly. She had thick, shoulder-length auburn hair a man could lose his hands in and big blue eyes full of sparkle and life. Wearing a minimum of makeup, she looked fresh and wholesome, not at all what he expected of a best-selling author. She was petite, but the distinctly feminine curves outlined beneath her simple lavender dress and those shapely legs more than made up for her lack of height.
His body tightened in a subtle but unmistakable way.
Irritated that she had the ability to affect him so strongly, he kept his tone curt. “I wasn’t expecting you until later this evening.” And his first thought upon seeing her had been that she was a new representative from Human Services, sent by his in-laws to check on his parenting abilities. It wouldn’t be the first time someone dropped by unannounced.
She clasped her hands behind her back and smiled despite his brusque attitude. “Actually, I made better time than I anticipated, and I didn’t expect to find anyone home.”
Normally, no one would have been. He only worked half days at the sawmill on Fridays. He was home by one and used the extra time to get chores done around the house and make any appointments needed for Andrew or himself. The schedule worked well and afforded him more time with his son.
When he didn’t reply, she shifted on her feet and asked, “Is Andrew home from school?” An anxious quality tinged her voice.
“Not yet.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “The bus should be here any time.”
“I can’t tell you how much it means to me to be able to spend some time with Andrew.”
He regarded her a little disbelievingly. “You do this for all your fans?”
“Andrew is the first,” she admitted. “When he told me all he wanted for his birthday was for me to visit, I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint him.”
The kind gesture astounded him. “Why
Her expression softened, as did the incredibly blue hue of her eyes. “I care for Andrew very much.”
“You hardly know him,” he said, more gruffly than he intended.
“You’d be surprised how much I know. We’ve corresponded for a year and a half. Surely you must have read the letters he’s written telling me about himself, and you.”
If he answered her question honestly, she’d think he didn’t care about his son. But the truth was far more complicated than a simple yes or no.
Tightening his jaw, he began putting away the tools scattered on the table. With a snap of his wrist, he tossed a tarp over the half-finished bookcase he was making for Andrew’s birthday. “Why don’t we go up to the house and you can wait for Andrew where it’s cool?”
