Ready-Made Bride

She tapped the end of her pen against her paper, lifting a brow. “You’re in an awfully good mood this morning.”

He looked over his shoulder, smiling lazily. “Is there any reason not to be?”

“I suppose not.” Amusement and soft desire sparkled in her blue eyes. “All you have time for is a quick bowl of cereal.”

“I’ll pass.” He closed the refrigerator door and approached the table. “We’ll grab some lunch after church.”

She laced her fingers beneath her chin and gave him a chastising look. “I would have made you a big breakfast if you hadn’t kept pressing the snooze button.”

He flicked the tail end of her braid over her shoulder, letting his fingers linger on the satiny skin of her neck. “Handy little thing to have on an alarm clock, isn’t it?”

“We didn’t sleep.” The shiver rippling down the length of her spine contradicted her prim tone.

He propped his hip against the edge of the table in front of her. His calf pressed into her thigh, and her gaze flew to his. “I don’t remember hearing you complain, sweetheart,” he said in a low, husky voice. Lightly pressing his thumb to her bottom lip, he dragged it across the full swell. “But then again, that mouth of yours was busy doin’ other things.”

Her breath quickened, and she pulled back out of his reach. “Kane, stop.”

She didn’t want him to stop, not really. He recognized the want in her gaze and the flush spreading from the neckline of her pretty pink floral dress. But they had Andrew to consider, and that was the only reason he kept his hands to himself.

So, instead, he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her parted lips, murmuring, “I like it when you blush.” Straightening, he grabbed her empty coffee mug. “Want a refill?”

Waking from her sensual fog, she glanced at the delicate gold watch on her wrist, noting the time. “Please. With cream and a spoonful of sugar.”

He went to the coffeemaker, and she picked up her pen and jotted a few more items on her growing list. He filled both mugs and added a splash of cream to hers. He opened the cupboard and searched the contents for the pink and white bag of sugar he kept on the second shelf.

It was gone, and it had been a full two-pound bag. Assuming Megan must have used it for her baking, he said, “Add sugar to your grocery list. We’re out.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I put the sugar, salt, flour and coffee in the canisters.”

Frowning, he closed the cupboard door and turned. “What canisters?” His tone sounded as cautious as he felt, like he’d been suddenly thrust into a mine field and had to watch every step or be blown to smithereens.

She continued scribbling on her notepad. “The ones on the counter.”

His gaze scanned the counter, spotting not one, but four ceramic containers with a flower design and bold letters on the front of each. His body tensed. They hadn’t been there yesterday morning.

“Where did the canisters come from?” He forced a neutral tone.

“They’re mine. I unpacked them from the stuff Judi sent. I thought they perked up the kitchen. Do you like them?”

“Yeah, they’re great,” he muttered.

He hated them. He hated change of any kind even more. He liked the kitchen the way it was, had arranged the cupboards so he knew where everything was located and could find it blindfolded if he needed to. But he couldn’t tell her that without her getting upset or suspicious.

“Which one’s the sugar?” he asked casually.

“It’s right on the label.” She stopped her writing long enough to give him a peculiar look over her shoulder. “I’m sure you can figure it out for yourself.”

Sure he could He always did. He knew from experience there would be plenty of these situations, but it had been over five years since he’d had to scramble for excuses and responses. If he wasn’t careful, the truth wouldn’t remain a secret for long.

Carrying her coffee, he approached the canisters, eyeing them warily. The letters emblazoned across them mocked him. The land mine beneath his feet rumbled with every step. He was determined to get through this without letting the situation blow up in his face.

Get used to bluffing, Kane. You’ve got a hell of a lot of years ahead of you. Besides, deception has been a part of your life for so long it should be second nature. So why was Megan different? Why did she make him feel like a fumbling kid trying to stay two steps ahead of the game?

He opened the lid on the first canister and found white granules. Bingo. He rounded off a teaspoon and hesitated, remembering that she’d mentioned salt, too. Giving Megan a surreptitious glance to be certain she was otherwise occupied, he licked his pinky finger, brushed it over the granules and tasted it. And winced. Salt. Wouldn’t that have been an eye opener for Megan, in more ways than one?

The second canister held dark brown coffee grounds, and the contents of the third container looked like the same substance as was in the first. Not taking any chances, he sampled the sweet granules, then dumped a spoonful into Megan’s coffee.

Megan glanced at Kane as he placed the steaming mug in front of her. She took a sip, savoring the creamy taste. “Mm, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

He slid into the chair next to her. “Anytime.”

“I’ll be going grocery shopping tomorrow after Andy goes to school. Can you think of anything other than what’s on my list that you might want or need?” She pushed her list in front of him for his review. “It’s going to take me a few tries to figure out what you and Andrew like and dislike, but I’d appreciate your input.”

He picked up the tablet and looked at the list. After a few moments he handed it back without comment. “We like just about everything except lima beans and liver.”

“You’re easy to please. Any favorites?”

He grinned, looking like a young boy. “Twinkies and home-made spaghetti.”

“That’s quite a combination.” She added a few items to her list. “So, do you want to add anything to the list?”

“Nope. Buy whatever you need.” Withdrawing his wallet from his pants pocket, he counted off some twenty- dollar bills and tossed them her way. “Will that cover it?”

“Uh, sure,” she said, feeling funny about taking his cash so freely, despite them being husband and wife. “If not, I have some extra money on me.”

“I’ll pay for anything you might need.”

Kane’s pride was showing, she thought, understanding his insistence. Especially since she knew the money problems he’d had in his marriage to Cathy and his need to support his family. But couldn’t two contribute to the burden?

Wrapping her hands around her mug, she leaned back in her chair and took a sip of coffee. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

She shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling awkward and unsure. They hadn’t had a normal courtship, time to talk about the little matters involved in a marriage and how they’d settle them or the different compromises they’d make. In so many ways they knew so little about one another, but they needed to learn to communicate openly. And she’d always believed financial obligations should be a shared venture.

She asked her question before she lost the nerve. “How do you feel about opening a joint checking account?”

“Not interested.” His tone was firm and final.

“I’ll contribute my share of funds,” she automatically said, wanting him to know theirs was an equal partnership, the royalties she made on her books included in on the deal. “And you can still keep your own personal checking account if you’d like-”

“I don’t have a checking account, nor do I want one. My savings account is all I need.”

She gaped at him. A checking account was essential to everyday life. She couldn’t imagine not having one. “You’re serious?”

He stared at her steadily, silently answering her question.

“Then how do you pay for things?”

The corner of his mouth quirked, but the dark shadows clouding his gaze overrode the glimpse of dry humor.