Ready-Made Bride

CHAPTER TEN

KANE jerked back and stared at Megan, their warm, intimate aftermath quickly dissolving into chilling reality.

“You did what?” His deceptively calm voice belied the fury boiling just beneath the surface.

If his dark scowl concerned her, she didn’t show it. “I said, I invited Harold and Patricia to dinner,” she repeated easily, as if having his in-laws over for a social gathering was a weekly occurrence instead of a nonexistent event.

“That’s what I thought you said.” He moved off her, anger giving him a restless kick of adrenaline. He picked up his jeans from the floor and yanked them on.

She sat on the bed, her mussed hair tumbling around her face and shoulders. “Is there a problem with having them over?” Challenge laced her husky voice.

“A problem?” Incredulous laughter escaped him. “We don’t get along. We don’t like each other. They believe I killed their daughter! I’d call that a big problem.” He speared his fingers through his hair. “Christ, Megan, what possessed you to do something so stupid?”

He didn’t care for the determined tilt to her chin. “I don’t think it was stupid. You and your in-laws need to reconcile, and it certainly isn’t going to happen when you won’t even make the effort to be civil about the situation. Maybe bringing the three of you together will force you to clear the air and settle old grudges.”

“Hardly.” After Cathy died he’d tried to talk to Patricia, only to have his attempts spurned. Why would five years of separation make any difference? “I can’t believe Patricia agreed to this-” he sliced a hand in the air, struggling for an appropriate word “-this farce.”

She slid from the bed, slipped on a silky thigh-length robe and fastened the belt. “It’ll be a farce only if you make it one,” she said dryly.

He narrowed his gaze, keeping a tight focus on the issue at hand. “When were you gonna tell me about this little dinner party you planned?”

Picking up a brush from the dresser, she looked into the mirror and pulled the bristles through the tangles in her hair. “Just before they arrived.”

He swore. “How convenient.” Moving beside her, he grabbed a T-shirt from a dresser drawer and whipped it over his head. “Nothing like waiting till the last minute to spring your little surprise on me.”

She gave an exasperated sigh and tossed the brush down. “Look at you, Kane. This is precisely why I wasn’t going to tell you until the last minute. You’re getting all worked up for nothing.”

“Nothing?” He stood toe to toe with her, his voice rising in fury. “You know what’s going to happen when they get here? We’re either going to all sit around the living room and glare at one another, or insults and accusations are going to fly fast enough to make your head spin.”

“I was hoping we could talk.” She jammed her hands on her hips, irritation sparking in her gaze. “You know, maybe try and have a civil, dignified conversation.”

“About what? About how miserable I made Cathy? That I was responsible for her death? Great icebreaker, wouldn’t you say?” He whirled and paced the floor. “You saw how awkward things were at Andrew’s birthday party.”

She stepped in front of him, bringing his pacing to an abrupt stop. And then she touched him, gently placing her palm against his cheek. “Give it a chance. Please, Kane.”

Clenching his jaw, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away, refusing to give in to the tender emotions weaving around his heart and breaking down his resistance. He’d do anything for Megan, he realized. Anything but this. “No. Nothing is going to change the past.”

“You’re right,” she conceded. “But you can change the future, if only you’d talk to Harold and Patricia-”

He dropped her hand. “No.”

“Fine. If you don’t do it for yourself, then do it for Andrew.”

Always Andrew. But how could he fault her for caring and loving his son? He couldn’t. She was an exceptional mother to Andrew, but he didn’t like her meddling in his life. “Andrew has adjusted and will continue to adjust to the situation.”

She folded her arms over her chest and scoffed at him. “That’s incredibly selfish of you to make him adjust when you have the ability to end the tension.”

“It’s not that simple, Megan.” He wished it was. Feeling caged in and edgy, he jammed on his boots, intending to get out of the house and away from Megan and her fallacy of happily ever after.

“You’re running again, Kane,” she said softly, with a perception that touched a vulnerable part of him.

He glared at her, automatically building a wall between them. It was the only way he knew how to preserve his pride. “Yeah? So what?”

She didn’t so much as flinch at his snappish tone. Her gaze held his steadily. “What I want to know is what you’re running from.”

His heart stopped and resumed at a frantic pace. “You don’t want to know.”

“That’s what you keep telling me, but why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

Because the truth is what destroyed my first marriage. The truth is what stands between me and the Lindens. “The truth will only make matters worse.” He headed for the door.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her step toward him, then stop. “Kane, where are you going?”

One hand on the door handle, he turned, cool mask in place. With effort, he blocked his emotions from the hurt and confusion in her gaze. “I’m going out. If you insist on having this dinner party, you’re gonna have to have it without me.”

“How come Dad didn’t come to church with us today?”

Megan turned her car onto the street heading into town and glanced at Andrew sitting beside her. “He had things to do around the house,” she lied. She didn’t have the heart to tell him Kane was upset with her. Again.

Andrew frowned, looking doubtful. “Like what?”

“I, uh…” No plausible excuse came to mind, especially when he’d been attending church with Andrew for years. “I think he just wanted some time alone.”

Ever since the dinner fiasco he’d been cool and distant, not that his withdrawal was anything new. The man’s emotional shields were strong, secure and instinctive. She was beginning to wonder if she stood a chance of permanently breaking them down.

After Kane had stormed out of the house and she’d regained her composure, she’d called Harold to cancel dinner. He’d been understanding but disappointed. He’d spent the past two weeks talking to Patricia about the situation, and although he didn’t think his wife was ready to completely forgive and forget the past, he believed in time she might be willing to accept some kind of reconciliation.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go to Grandma and Grandpa’s today,” Andrew said, looking way too serious for an eight-year-old. “I could stay home and we could make Dad some cookies, or maybe a cake.”

Megan smiled despite her heavy heart. “Honey, that’s a wonderful thought, but your grandparents look forward to their day with you.” And she wasn’t about to deny the Lindens the pleasure of their grandson. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but sometimes I wish we could all do stuff together.” He hung his head and stared at his lap. “Corey says that his grandma and grandpa come over to his house all the time.” He lifted a confused gaze to her. “How come we don’t do things like that?”

Because your father is as stubborn as a mule. She sighed, gathering the words to best explain the situation. “Andrew, sometimes families have disagreements. That’s what happened with your dad and your grandparents. I’m working on patching things up, but it might take some time.”

He smiled, and his dimple appeared. “I knew you would.”

She lifted a brow at him as she turned into the church parking lot and searched for a vacant spot. “Knew I would what?”

The self-satisfied look on his face was at once adorable and disarming. “Try and make things better with my dad and Grandma and Grandpa Linden.”

Little stinker, she thought affectionately. “You did?”

“Yep. And I think Grandpa likes you.”

She knew she had at least one ally with Harold. Turning off the ignition, she asked, “And your grandma?”

He shrugged. “She doesn’t say much about you, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you.”

She reached across the console and gently ruffled his hair. “Well, you be sure to tell them both today that I think they’re wonderful grandparents.”

His eyes sparkled happily. “Okay.”

They got out of the car and started toward the church and the crowd of people visiting until the bells tolled. Andrew slipped his hand in hers and looked at her with liquid brown eyes full of worry.

“Do you think Dad’s okay at home?”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” The lie was necessary.

“Will you bake him cookies while I’m at Grandma’s?” Hope tinged his voice. “That’ll cheer him up for sure.”

Megan was desperate enough to try anything to reach Kane. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Megan wrapped the previous night’s leftover fried chicken in foil and placed it in a paper sack along with grapes and the fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies she’d baked when she returned from church. Completing the picnic was the bottle of wine she’d picked up at the grocery store on her way home.

Kane had left for town a little less than an hour ago, saying something about picking up some stuff being held at the hardware store for him. She couldn’t have planned this surprise picnic any more perfectly. Knowing he’d be home any moment and wanting to be gone when he did, she quickly wrote a note for him to meet her at the huge oak tree by the lake and signed the note, “I love you, Megan.” She placed the piece of paper on the counter by the back door, so he’d be sure to see it when he walked in.

She gathered up her goodies, walked the short trek to their meeting spot and spread out the blanket she’d brought, then unloaded their lunch. When that was done, she reclined on the blanket, unbuttoned the front of her dress to reveal the swells of her breasts, hiked her skirt to her thighs and affected a sultry, seductive pose. And waited.

Kane’s cool, distant attitude didn’t concern her. She’d decided that she was going to shower him with so much love he’d drown in it, whether he liked it or not. And if seducing him was the only way to shatter his emotional barriers, she’d gladly pay the price.

Seconds stretched into endless minutes as she continued to plan her seductive strategy. The leaves in the trees rustled gently and birds chirped overhead. The sky couldn’t have been bluer, the day more beautiful for sharing with someone she loved. Eventually, she succumbed to the cool spring breeze and the gentle lapping of water lulling her to sleep.

She woke from her nap with a start. Drowsily, she looked at her watch. Two hours had passed. Abruptly sitting up, she glanced around, expecting to see Kane. She was alone. Achingly, desperately, frustratingly alone.

Discouraged and stung by his rejection, she packed up the untouched picnic. The walk home seemed like a five-mile uphill climb. The entire way, she told herself there had to be a logical explanation, that most likely Kane had gotten held up in town and hadn’t come home yet. Surely he wouldn’t intentionally ignore her request?

Her excuses fizzled when she crested the knoll and saw his truck parked outside the barn. With every step closer to the house, her heart grew heavier. Her fervent vow to shower him with love mocked her. How could she accomplish her goal when Kane wasn’t the least bit willing or cooperative?

Angry at herself for believing in the impossible and at Kane for his selfish behavior, she strode into the barn and plunked the sack on his workbench. Kane. turned from his current project, eyeing the bag, and her, warily.

The pain inside her grew to startling proportions. “Here’s your lunch. It would have been real nice if we could have shared it together, but I guess you weren’t in the mood for company, which is nothing new around here.” Her words were cruel, but she couldn’t stop them.

A startled look resembling guilt passed over his features but was quickly masked by a practiced indifference. “What are you talking about?”

“The note, Kane,” she said, her throat raw and her emotions frayed. “The one in the kitchen asking you to meet me by the lake.”

He hesitated, then turned away. Taking off his plastic safety glasses, he tossed them aside. “I didn’t see any note.”

She wanted to scream at him to look at her so she could see the truth in his eyes. “How could you miss it? It’s right on the counter as you walk in the kitchen.”

Again he paused. Again he wouldn’t look at her. “I haven’t been up to the house.”

She honestly didn’t know whether or not to believe him. His answer was sensible, but feeling hurt and emotionally wounded, she held tight to her anger. “Since you only spend time in your workshop, I guess next time I ought to post the note on your workbench!”

He turned. That marble facade of his cracked a bit, giving her a glimpse of vulnerability she wasn’t in the frame of mind to dissect or understand. He stepped toward her. “Megan-”

She held up a hand to ward him off, in no disposition to be rational. “Forget it, Kane. Just forget it.” She damned the tears rushing forward and choking her voice. She damned him for breaking her heart when all she wanted to do was love him. She didn’t know what to do if he wouldn’t at least make an attempt to meet her halfway. “Let’s just chalk this up to a misunderstanding, and I won’t make the mistake again of expecting anything more from you than what you openly give.”

He stood unmoving, looking as miserable as she felt. The thought gave her no pleasure, just filled her with a sadness that went soul deep. He didn’t want her heart. He didn’t want her love. Who was she to force them on him?

She turned and left the barn before she broke down. As soon as she stepped outside, the sob lodged in her throat escaped and the tears she’d managed to hold at bay spilled over her lashes. The emptiness in her was all-consuming.

She heard him swear, then a loud crash as he threw something against the barn wall. She winced and forced herself to keep walking away. All she wanted to do at the moment was tear that damned note into a million pieces.

Swiping at her wet cheeks, she entered the kitchen and searched the counter for the note, then the floor, then the entire area, nearly turning the kitchen upside down with her urgent need to find that stupid piece of paper.

The note was nowhere to be found.

Megan separated the dirty clothes methodically, her mind numb and her heart battered and bruised. The only time she could remember experiencing such a horrible helplessness and loneliness was after her divorce.

She swallowed the growing knot in her throat, determined not to give in to the urge to cry any more tears than she already had in the past two days. Especially with Andrew in the other room doing his homework.

Biting her bottom lip and blinking back moisture, she grabbed a pair of Andrew’s jeans and checked the pockets. She found a gum wrapper, a quarter and a marble before tossing them into the dark clothes pile. She focused her mind on the chore, repeating the process with all his pants, then Kane’s, amazed, as always, at the different trinkets and the amount of change she discovered.

Reaching into the front pocket of Kane’s jeans, her fingers closed around a crumpled piece of paper and some loose change. She automatically dumped them on her growing pile and dropped the pants on top of the others. It took her mushy brain five seconds to register the significance of that piece of paper, and when it did, everything within her froze.

She stared at the balled up paper as if it were a poisonous insect. Her mind spun and her heart raced so fast she was certain she could hear blood rushing in her ears.

No, it couldn’t be. Her stomach rolled. Hands trembling, she forced herself to reach for the paper and smooth out the folds. She held in her hands the note she’d written for Kane three days ago, the same one he’d denied seeing. She moaned, the wounded sound distant to her own ears. But the pain of his betrayal sliced straight to her heart.

Questions flooded her mind faster than she could catalogue them. Why would Kane ignore her note? And why would he lie about finding it? She desperately sought answers, thinking over the past couple of weeks and linking Kane’s behavior to each situation that had distanced him more and more. Like a recorded video on fast forward, scenes tumbled through her mind. The panic in his gaze when she’d given him that grocery list, his never having a checking account and paying everything with cash, his insistence on a tutor for Andrew, his insecurities about his woodwork, those unopened letters from his sister…

Like threads in an intricate weaving, every occurrence pulled the interlacing tighter, presenting her with only one logical conclusion.

The truth rippled through her like an electrical shock, and the note slipped from her hand and fluttered to the floor.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed.

Kane knew something was wrong the moment he stepped through the back door into the kitchen and saw Megan sitting so calmly at the kitchen table.

The sight of her red-rimmed eyes, pink nose and pale complexion tipped him off that she’d been crying. Worry gripped him until something crinkled in her hands. His eyes dropped to her lap. Very slowly, very deliberately, she placed a wrinkled piece of paper on the table for him to see.

His gaze shot to hers. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. Gut instinct told him she knew. His body tensed, his barriers going up automatically. He put his lunch box on the counter and retrieved a beer from the refrigerator, taking his time while he waited for accusations to fly.

It had been a mistake to take the note and stuff it in his pocket when he’d found it, but he’d been so frustrated and angry it had been a reflex action. One he regretted. It had been a bigger mistake that he’d forgotten about the note, but guilt had consumed his mind and blocked out all coherent thoughts.

And now he’d pay the price for his stupidity. He wondered if it would cost him his marriage-for the second time. The thought of losing Megan wrenched at his heart. What if she didn’t want him after this confrontation was over? And he knew it was coming. Like a brewing storm he could feel the tension, knew it was a matter of time before the fury hit and wiped out everything in its wake. His stomach twisted, and he washed down the bitterness rising in his throat with a long swallow of beer.

He leaned against the counter and looked at her. “Where’s Andrew?” he asked, his voice as rough and bristly as he felt.

“Cleaning his room.” Her soft voice belied the ruthless intent in her gaze. “I want to know why you lied to me about the note.”

A lie sprang to his lips, a natural, involuntary action he’d honed over the years. More lies to cover up an endless string of lies that would never end, just get more difficult to cover up.

He let out a long, hissing breath. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” But causing her pain was all he’d ever done. He hated himself for that.

“It hurts me that you think you have to hide the truth from me.”

Denial was strong and even harder to dismiss when he’d spent a lifetime dodging the truth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Finishing his beer, he tossed the bottle into the container under the sink and headed for the back door.

She came out of her seat and cut him off, her eyes blazing with a fierce and furious light. “Yes, you do, and you’re not walking away until this is settled.”

He glared at her even as he fought the urge to haul her into his arms, crush her to his chest and never let her go. He was scared, he realized, scared of what the truth would mean to her. Terrified of rejection, and of disappointing the woman who’d come to mean more to him than he had ever dreamed possible.

“What do you want from me?” he asked, his throat clogged with a multitude of emotions.

“I want your trust” I want your love, her eyes said. She cupped her hand over his cheek, her gentle touch unraveling something deep within him. “I want to hear the truth, the real truth that’s tearing us apart, from your lips.”

She knew. No matter how he denied the inevitable, it wouldn’t go away. And he was so damned tired of bluffing, deceptions and lies. The turmoil of the past months boiled to the surface.

“You want the truth, Megan?” he asked, using anger as a defense. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her hand away before she could snatch it back when he confessed his darkest secret. “The truth is, I can’t read.” He steeled himself, waiting for the horrified expression he’d dreaded seeing since the day they married.

Instead, compassion softened her features. “Oh, Kane, why didn’t you tell me?”

He dropped her hand and moved away, clawing his fingers through his hair. “What am I supposed to say? Oh, by the way, I can’t read, and sorry, honey, I’ll never amount to much of anything-”

“Stop it, Kane,” she said vehemently.

But he was on a course straight to self-destruction and couldn’t stop himself. The frustration and bitterness of a lifetime came rushing forward, and he was helpless to stop any of it. “It’s true! I never finished school. Hell, I think the last grade I attended was second, and after my mother died I had to raise my baby sister while my dad worked to support us.” The whole story spilled out, how his father insisted his son learn to earn a living, and how grateful Kane had been for his father’s misdirected guidance, because he was able to support himself and his sister when his dad died. The sacrifices he’d made had been necessary to survive but had cost him an education.

When it was over, he sank into a chair and hung his head in his hands so he wouldn’t have to look at Megan. Christ, what had he done? If he was lucky, she’d just leave him alone in his misery.

Megan wasn’t one to give up.

Her warmth and unique feminine scent surrounded him, then her hand touched his back. His muscles jumped and pulled tight. She rubbed lightly, but he wouldn’t let go of the tension. It was the only thing holding him together.

“You can learn to read,” she said.

His head snapped up, and he scowled at her. “God, Megan, don’t you think I’ve tried that?”

“On your own?” she guessed.

“Yes, and it’s nothing but a frustrating, degrading experience.”

She sat in the chair next to him, so close their knees nearly touched. “Why haven’t you asked anyone for help?”

His laughter lacked humor. “Because I’m not about to risk the entire town learning I’m illiterate and humiliate myself that way again.”

She frowned. “Again?”

He nodded jerkily. “I only told one person about my illiteracy, and I experienced enough humiliation to last me a lifetime.”

“Cathy?”

“Yeah. Not being able to read cost me a job in her daddy’s bank, my marriage, and made my wife miserable enough to want a divorce.”

Megan gasped, her gaze widening in astonishment and understanding. “Oh, my God, that’s why you refused the job Harold offered you.”

A bitter smile twisted his lips. “You can’t exactly bluff your way through correspondence, reports and contracts.”

She shook her head, confused. “But Harold doesn’t know you’re illiterate.”

“That’s because his daughter was too embarrassed and ashamed to let everyone know she married someone stupid,” he said harshly. “Thankfully, she took my secret to her grave.”

Anger flashed across Megan’s features. “You’re not stupid.”

Restless energy burned through his veins. He bolted out of his seat and across the kitchen, then whirled to face her, hands clenched at his sides. “I sure as hell feel like it when I can’t even read a goddamn note that you leave for me!”

She stood and crossed to him, tears shimmering in her eyes. Eyes that wanted to understand him, help him, love him. If only he’d let her.

Standing in front of him, lip trembling and a single tear escaping, she whispered achingly, “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

His jaw hardened. “Dammit, Megan, I don’t want your pity!”

“I’m not crying because I pity you, you big lug,” she said, grabbing a handful of his shirt and giving him a furious shake. “I hurt for you.”

He didn’t touch her, but lord, he wanted to. He wanted to sink his fingers into her silky hair, kiss her lips and wake from this horrible nightmare with her arms around him. But this was living reality, and he wasn’t worth those tears welling in her eyes and trickling over her lashes.

He looked away, anywhere but in those velvet blue eyes that reached into his heart and soul and tugged like nothing he’d ever experienced. He couldn’t respond for the lump in his throat.

“I came into this marriage with very few expectations, Kane,” she said, her voice soft with regret. “I wanted to be a mother for Andrew and I wanted to be your wife. Along the way, I hoped we could come to mean something special to one another. I’d hoped we could share secrets, hopes and fears. I love you, Kane. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

It meant everything to him. Everything he’d ever hoped for and dreamed of but thought he was destined to live his life without. Hadn’t he learned that love wasn’t always enough?

“This doesn’t have to be the end, Kane,” she implored. “If you let it, it can be a new beginning.”

“This is the way it is.” His tone was as gravelly as sandpaper, his heart and mind confused.

“Fine.”

With sickening dread and a withering feeling, Kane watched Megan slip the ring from her left hand and place the gold wedding band on the wrinkled note still on the table. The note he couldn’t read.

She held her head determinedly, but her chin trembled. “When you’re ready to face your illiteracy, and you’re ready to trust me, then we can have a real marriage and be a real family.”

This time, it was Megan who walked away.