He wasn’t feeling reasonable. “I’d like to discuss it now.” He turned and strode into the kitchen.
He heard his son’s plea. “Mom, please make him understand.”
He heard Megan’s soft response. “I’ll try my best.”
He paced the floor, a jumbled mass of emotions twisting inside him. Needing a release, he vented his anger on Megan as soon as she entered the room.
“You had no right to get rid of Joyce.” He jammed his hands on his hips and pinned her with an incensed look. He knew he was acting irrational but he couldn’t help himself. “I hired a tutor for Andy for a reason!”
She crossed her arms over her chest, not backing down at his ferocious glare. “Which is?”
Kane froze. Too late, he realized his mistake. Only one reason managed to filter through his muddled mind. I want him to have all the advantages I never had as a kid I want him to be able to go to college and be successful one day. But he couldn’t voice his explanation because his reasons intertwined with his insecurities and childhood memories of forgetting school lessons. Of wanting to learn but being so overwhelmed by other responsibilities that he’d had to forfeit an education.
And now, as an adult, he paid for that sacrifice every day of his life. He’d vowed long ago that Andrew would never know the degradation and humiliation of not being academically inclined.
Of not knowing how to read.
But Megan seemed to understand even without knowing the truth. Her expression softened, and she approached him. “I know you want the best for Andrew, but I talked to Mrs. Graham today and found out he’s well above most of his classmates.”
“A tutor keeps him there,” he replied tightly.
“Andrew is a smart kid. He told me only the kids with learning disabilities have tutors.”
He released a harsh breath that whistled between his teeth. Turning away, he pushed his fingers through his hair, wondering if he’d inadvertently damaged his son’s self-confidence. He’d never intended to make Andy feel inferior, had only meant to give him every benefit possible. It pained him that he’d hurt his son that way, yet a part of him didn’t regret his decision.
“Dad?”
Kane looked at Andrew, who stood in the kitchen doorway, an uncertain expression on his face. “Yes?”
He fidgeted on his sneakered feet. “I don’t want Joyce to tutor me anymore.”
Kane couldn’t quite let go of his convictions. “Son, sometimes we have to do things we don’t like-”
Megan placed a firm hand on Kane’s arm, halting his lecture. “Kane, you need to listen to Andrew.”
He clenched his jaw, but he looked at his son.
“I like Joyce,” Andrew went on, “but it’s not like she teaches me things I don’t already know.”
“She helps you with your homework,” Kane pointed out. And that was something he couldn’t do.
Andrew’s gaze went from Kane to Megan. The two exchanged a look before he glanced at his dad again. “Mom can help me with my homework.”
Kane rubbed the taut muscles at the back of his neck, debating the merits of such an arrangement.
Megan’s fingers tightened around the corded muscles in his forearm. “Since I’m here when he gets home from school, I’ll be able to spend time reviewing his homework with him.”
“Please, Dad,” Andrew begged. “I don’t need Joyce. I got straight As on my last report card.”
“What if your grades start slipping?”
“If that happens, which I doubt,” Megan said wryly, letting Kane know with a pointed look that she wouldn’t allow it to happen, “then we’ll rehire Joyce.”
Kane could feel his arguments crumbling. He couldn’t protect Andrew forever, and he knew he needed to extend his son some trust or Andrew would grow to resent him and the tutoring. The only thing that eased his mind was that Megan would be able to monitor his progress.
“Deal?” Andrew asked enthusiastically, thrusting a hand toward Kane before he could formulate any more questions or change his mind.
Kane knew when he was beaten and accepted defeat gracefully. “Deal,” he muttered, and shook the hand Andrew offered.
“Andy, get dressed for church,” Kane called as he followed the delicious aroma of coffee down the hallway. “We’re leaving in half an hour.”
“Okay, Dad!” Andy darted around him to the bathroom, Sunday clothes in hand.
Kane entered the kitchen. Megan glanced from the tablet of paper in front of her, pen poised for jotting down items in a neat row.
“Good morning,” Kane greeted her cheerfully. He opened the refrigerator and peered at the meager contents.
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.