Marriage by Mistake (31 page)

But before she'd even started ironing it out
he was gone, striding athletically out the door.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Well, that hadn't accomplished much. As Troy
walked down the sidewalk of the seedy area of Boston, he decided
that his little trip to Felicia's pet foundation had been the exact
opposite of constructive.

It was bad enough Felicia had announced she
could never return his feelings, but he had to go and get all
worked up over the whole family shelter thing.

Scowling, Troy went down the stairs and into
the humid heat of a subway station. He paid the fare, went through
the stile and looked up to see a train pulling into the station.
Instead of getting on the train, however, he crossed his arms and
leaned against the old, tiled wall of the station. He watched
broodingly as the train closed its doors and hummed electrically
away.

He wasn't ready to go anywhere, he was
too...depressed. Depressed beyond any depression he could remember
experiencing. Because, hell, he didn't
get
depressed.

But that shelter had brought back memories,
memories he'd prefer to have kept buried. He remembered when they'd
come to the house of the friend with whom he'd been staying while
his parents went off on their exotic vacation. They'd told him his
parents had been killed. On impact, they'd said. Child Protective
Services had been mentioned. Troy had been terrified.

Fortunately, someone had remembered he was
cousins with Dean. Kirk had come. Yes, for his dead brother's son
he'd actually bestirred himself. Papers had been shuffled and
signed. For that, Troy would always be grateful to his uncle.

He had not gone to Child Protective
Services.

But today, seeing that little kid with his
cancer-ridden mother...Troy remembered how close he had come.

Down in the quiet subway station, he shook
his head, trying to shake the dread-filled feeling away. But it
wouldn't go, especially now that it was attached to the little talk
he'd had with Felicia. Felicia, who thought he was like her roving,
philandering father.

And so wanted nothing to do with him.

Troy rubbed his mouth and watched another
train come into the station. He glared at the halting train and
admitted he bore some resemblance to Felicia's father. He was a
Singleton, after all. They were not the most constant or
responsible of men    Dean being an exception. Troy had
never taken on a responsibility in his life. He'd certainly never
considered taking on the responsibility of being a husband. And
'husband' was obviously what Felicia was looking for. A constant,
reliable,
worthwhile
husband.

Troy winced. He couldn't hack being a
husband, let alone a worthwhile one. But on the other hand, he had
a sinking feeling that his emotions toward Felicia were not nearly
as temporary as, out of pride, he'd led her to believe. Hell, he'd
probably been denying he was in love with her for a couple of
years.

Too bad he couldn't have kept on denying
it.

Troy stood there and watched the next train,
too, hum its way out of the station. He wondered when he was going
to be willing to get onto a train. He wondered how long he was
going to go on feeling this terrible aching inside. He wished, oh
how he wished, that he could just stop
wanting
.

###

"Wow, it's crowded in here, today," Kelly
said to Dean, gazing around at the long tables at Durgin Park
restaurant where Dean had taken her for one of their now-frequent
lunch dates. Every seat was filled.

"Tourist season has started in earnest," Dean
replied. As though the admission that it was already the middle of
June meant nothing to him, he cut into his family-style steak with
gusto, then looked up and smiled at her.

The date did mean something to Kelly, but his
smile warmed her and she returned it.

Things were going really well, she had to
admit. Over the past several weeks, the quality of her relationship
with Dean had intensified. They spent time together; quality time
and not-so-quality time. They went out for romantic drives, but
they also had dinner at home. There were times of great sexual
intimacy, and there were whole evenings spent at the movies with
Robby.

Yes, things were going very well, indeed.
There was just one little sticking point, one tiny little thing
that hadn't happened. And here it was, the middle of June.

Before Kelly could start to dwell on that one
missing thing, their tête-à-tête was interrupted. Down the long
table from them, two women rose from their seats. One of them,
tall, elegant, and blond, perked up. "Dean," she said, and
smiled.

Dean leaned back in his seat the better to
see the woman. "Ah, Felicia." He answered her smile. "How are
you?"

Felicia. Yes, Kelly remembered now. Felicia
Thurgood, oh so proper. They'd met her way back when at the opera.
At the time, Kelly had thought the woman had feelings for Dean, but
now, watching the calm ease of her smile, Kelly changed her mind.
This was simple friendship.

"I'm doing well." Felicia started toward
them. She gestured toward her companion. "This is Andrea Shapiro.
She runs the Boston Family Aid shelter. You know, the one I've
spoken to you about. Andrea, this is Dean Singleton and his wife,
Kelly." Felicia smiled in Kelly's direction. Kelly smiled back,
suddenly liking the woman much better.

"Oh, yes." Dean stood and shook Andrea's
hand. "Hear you're doing good work down there in South Boston.
Expanding, aren't you?"

As Kelly watched, a strange expression
crossed Felicia's face. "I, uh, well it looks like that might
happen, after all. We got a check, a rather large check...from Joe
Esterley."

"Joe?" Dean looked surprised. "He's the
biggest skinflint there ever was."

"Yes." A line formed between Felicia's brows.
"That's what I always thought, too."

Dean laughed. "Well, congratulations. You
must have spun quite a tale to convince Joe to help you get your
down payment."

"Ah, that's just it.
I
didn't say a
word to Joe Esterley. This check just...came."

"Really?"

"
You
didn't happen to have a word with
Joe, did you?" Felicia seemed keen for an answer.

Dean pursed his lips. "Wish I could take the
credit, but I'm afraid I didn't."

Felicia frowned, clearly troubled. "Then, you
don't suppose it was    ?" She broke off with a sudden,
nervous laugh. "No, no, I'm being silly. It couldn't have been.
Anyway, it was nice seeing you, and you, too, Kelly."

All parties bade farewell but Kelly thought
Felicia was looking troubled again as the two women walked off.

"Wonder what that was all about," Kelly
said.

"Hm?" Dean glanced in the direction the women
had taken as he sat back down. "Oh, I don't blame Felicia for being
curious. Joe
is
a notorious miser."

"No, it was something more..." Kelly frowned
as she wondered what had bothered Felicia so about that check.

Dean's smile across the table at her was
fond. "Well, if that's your take on it, I imagine you're right." He
tapped the back of her hand. "You seem to have a sixth sense about
people."

Kelly looked over at him in surprise. He
thought that? And here she was, wishing she
did
have a sixth
sense    about him. Oh, how she wished she knew his true
feelings.

Meanwhile, Dean wrapped his fingers around
her hand and his eyes got dark and intense. Kelly could almost hear
the words. Almost.
You had a sixth sense about
me
. You
knew I needed you, that I love you
.

And she did know that, kind of, almost. Dean
showed it in moments like these, and a hundred others, moments of
caring and consideration. He showed it so often and so much that in
a way she felt like a jerk for needing the actual words.

But, still, all the same...why didn't he say
those words of love, if they were so true? Even Robby thought he
should say them. Every morning after Dean went off to work, Robby
would corner Kelly and ask, "Did he say it yet?" Yes, even
nine-year-old Robby thought the words were crucial, indicating some
level of commitment.

"I should let you finish your lunch."
Smiling, Dean let go of her hand and his gaze lost its
intensity.

Kelly felt a crash of disappointment. He
hadn't said it.
Again
, he hadn't said those very important
words. In all the wonder of how well things were going, it was the
one little thing that wouldn't happen.

"Ahem, yes. This lobster is delicious." Kelly
managed to smile as she picked up a claw and nibbled. Not for the
first time, she considered starting the discussion herself, telling
Dean that she loved him.

But somehow that wouldn't be the same as Dean
coming out with the words first. It seemed important he make
himself vulnerable. She wanted to know he could trust her.

And so through all these weeks she'd been
waiting, hoping Dean would take the plunge. And now there were only
two weeks left to her trial period. That was it. Two weeks!

Dean glanced at his watch. "I hate to say
this, but    "

"I know." Kelly held up her free hand. "You
have a meeting."

Dean wiped his mouth, leaned across the table
as he stood, and kissed her. "I'll pay on my way out. Sure you
don't want Jackson to drive you home?"

"I'm sure."
Two weeks
, Kelly
thought.

Dean hesitated, then leaned across the table
to kiss her again. "See you at home," he said gruffly.

Kelly met his eyes. "Yes," she said, gruff
herself. "See you at home."

She watched him walk through the crowded
restaurant, straight, tall; all masculine grace. A great warmth
curled around her heart. She loved him so much. It was impossible
to imagine he didn't love her back.

Or almost impossible, anyway.

###

Dean was still basking in the pleasant
after-effects of his lunch with Kelly at Durgin Park when he
waltzed through Mrs. Barnes' unoccupied office. Boy, did he love
spending time with Kelly, any kind of time. Meanwhile, he pointedly
refrained from glancing toward the wall on the left, where a
calendar held prominent reign. Dean did not want to think about the
date.

Whistling, he scooped his messages out of his
executive assistant's holder. The name on one of the pink slips,
however, stopped his whistle between his teeth.

Kirk had called.

It was a typical Kirk call, made at noon
Boston time. Dean's father didn't actually want to speak to his
son. The message on the slip was inscrutable.

"On the way," it said.

Frowning, Dean continued on to his office. He
closed the door behind himself.
On the way
? Was his father
planning to come    here? Dean's jaw tensed. Slowly, he
continued around to the other side of his desk.

He reached for a piece of paper, something on
which to compose a rude missive telling Kirk exactly where he
should go. The hell Kirk was coming    now. For months
Dean had been launching messages, trying to get Kirk to come and
deal with his prodigal nine-year-old son. And Kirk thought he ought
to show up
now
, when    when   

Dean stood behind his desk. His frown
deepened. When    what? What had changed, such that he no
longer needed, or even wanted, his father to do his duty by
Robby?

Rubbing the message slip between his fingers,
Dean sank into his desk chair. Oh, it was true he'd taken Robby
under his wing a bit. He'd gotten the kid that tutor he needed.
Under Kelly's approving eyes, Dean had taken Robby to the movies
and shot some baskets with him out back. He'd even enjoyed himself
in the process.

But had anything essentially
changed
?
Dean tapped the edge of his desk with one finger. Resentment
bubbled. For the first time in weeks, he was being forced to peer
at reality. He'd been putting off reality ever since he'd stepped
out of the swan boat with Kelly. Hell, he'd stopped even bothering
to make excuses for his extended dip into fantasy. He'd
simply...enjoyed.

Indeed. The main reason Dean had been getting
along so well with Robby was because he'd been enjoying himself
with Kelly so damn much. He milked every moment with her for all he
could get out of it, and he could get a lot. The more he
discovered, probed...invaded, the deeper he fell in. The woman was
nice
. She was so responsible she was still paying the
medical bills from her mother's long illness. On the other hand,
she could have a wicked sense of humor when inspired. Dean chuckled
to think of the times he'd been on the end of it. Being with her
made him...happy.

Releasing a long breath, Dean flattened his
palms on the desk. He'd been happy and, admittedly, drifted further
and further into fantasy. While taking walks with Kelly through the
summer-thick woods, he'd imagine how the setting would look with
her in the fall, when the leaves started to turn, or in the winter,
under the first snowfall. While sitting in the dining room, with
Kelly on one side of him and Robby on the other, Dean would imagine
the scene a year hence, five years. Robby would get taller, maybe
sport a pair of glasses. Kelly would lose her athletic edge,
particularly if there'd been a pregnancy or two   

Dean hissed out a breath and rose from his
seat. Kelly pregnant? He'd gone off the deep end. He was
fantasizing living with Robby and Kelly like a real family. With
babies!

And yet    And yet   
Sighing, Dean paced toward the window. And yet, he had been
thinking about such a life, maybe even planning for it. Dean might
avoid looking at calendars, but he was perfectly aware of the date.
Two weeks. There were only two weeks left in the trial period
marriage. His time with Kelly was about to run out.