Marriage by Mistake (17 page)

"Dean," Robby remarked, with supreme
indifference. He turned back to stare at his line. Dean, meanwhile,
began stomping through the wildflowers and down the hill toward
them.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Kelly stilled even as her heart raced. She
couldn't believe her eyes. Was this Dean, really Dean, marching
toward her in the middle of a busy Friday afternoon?

And if so, just 'which' Dean was he?

Dean strode up to her position, dropped the
cases he was holding, and sneered. "Fishing," he said.

The usual Dean, Kelly decided, and he wasn't
bending here at all. Quite the opposite, it appeared. But her heart
kept on racing as she got to her feet. "Yeah," she said, and lifted
her chin. "Fishing."

Dean put his hands on his hips. "You don't
have the slightest idea how to catch a fish."

Kelly arched her brows and tried to calm her
pulse. "So?"

He squinted at her. Slowly, he said,
"
So
. Fishing is about catching fish."

"Oh, yeah?"

Only a brief hesitation showed he'd heard her
answer. Then he was bending on one knee over his case to snap it
open. "
This
is a real rod."

"No."

"Yes." He lifted an impossibly
delicate-looking stick from the case. With a supercilious
expression, he eyed her. "You have to use the right equipment,
learn the correct techniques."

"Hmm." She'd been right. He wasn't bending.
He'd only come to    to organize their fun. "Well, that
might be true," Kelly told him, "if fishing were really about
catching fish."

He blinked. "Pardon me?"

"I said maybe we'd need the proper equipment
and the correct techniques if we were actually out here to catch
fish."

She saw his nostrils flare. "You're not out
here to catch fish?"

Kelly didn't dare glance toward Robby, who
was staring at his line. "No."

Slowly, Dean rose. "Then what
are
you
doing?"

Kelly crossed her arms. "We're...communing
with nature. Taking it easy."

A muscle in Dean's jaw jumped. "I do know how
to 'take it easy.' And fishing    fishing correctly
   is not all that stressful a sport."

He wasn't getting it at all. They weren't out
here to compete at sports. They weren't trying to achieve anything.
Oh, he was utterly hopeless. And yet as she stared into his grim,
intense face, Kelly couldn't help feeling something warm and tender
grow inside.

"Sports in general are stressful," she
countered, perhaps more sharply than necessary. She didn't want to
feel warm inside! "Believe me, I know. And we are not doing any of
that here. We are
relaxing
." And she was not falling in love
with him, she wasn't! But despite it all, the warm feeling inside
her grew.

He tilted his head and gave her a peculiar
look. "The hell you say."

"Excuse me?"

"Move aside. I intend to show Robby how to
fish."

"No."

"Yes."

"A fish!" Robby exclaimed. "I've got a fish!"
His words cut through the escalating argument like a knife through
butter.

"What?" Kelly whirled.

"No." Dean stepped toward him.

"It's    it's something," Robby
said, battling to hold onto his line.

It was indeed something. Kelly could see
Robby's kitchen string line stretch tight. "Hold on!" she
called.

"A net," Dean muttered. "He needs a net."

"No time!" Kelly exclaimed, and splashed
directly into the stream.

"Oh, for the love of    " she heard
Dean growl, but Kelly clomped toward Robby's taut line anyway. It
wasn't the right way to do things, but neither was Robby's paper
clip hook or cheese bait correct, so Kelly figured it evened out.
She stooped and plunged her hands into the stream.

"It's getting away!" Robby wailed.

"No. No, it isn't. I feel it!"

"You don't." Suddenly Dean was right in front
of her.

"What?" The sight of him, up to his
high-tailored knees in water, made Kelly start. She dropped the
fish. "What    what the heck are you doing, Dean?"

"I'm going to get that fish," he replied, and
plunged his own hands into the stream.

For half a second she stared at him. He was
going to ruin his suit. Then her eyes widened. "Oh, no you don't.
That's my fish    I mean, Robby's." She moved to
intercept. Too late.

"Got it!" Dean crowed and lifted a wiggling
fish. His jacket sleeves were soaked but he gave Kelly an
unmistakable look of triumph.

"Ha!" Kelly gloated as the fish slipped out
of his grasp. She lunged for it.

So did Dean. They collided midstream.

"Oof!"

"Hey!"

"I've got it."

"No, I have."

Robby was screaming something, Kelly couldn't
understand what. Meanwhile neither she nor Dean actually had the
fish, which wriggled between their pressed-together bodies. Kelly's
hands grappled with Dean's in the slippery mess between them.

"Can't you    ?

"Over there!"

At one point they almost had it, four hands
wrapped around the scaly creature. But Kelly could feel the fish
gaining ground.

She started to laugh. It was too much, Robby
jumping up and down on the bank, the two of them soaked and
fighting this poor fish. Talk about stress! Still laughing, her
eyes met Dean's.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Dean's hold on the fish loosened.

"Shoot!" Robby exclaimed, as the fish wiggled
free.

God
, Kelly thought.
Oh God, oh
God
. It was there, shimmering in the air between them, the
special something, the zing    exactly what she'd felt
the first time they'd met in Las Vegas. As if...as if the two of
them had been born soul mates, as if they understood each other and
always would. As if they belonged together.

Dean looked like he'd been hit by a baseball
bat. Kelly thought he was going to stumble backwards, but he
didn't. Instead, a sort of haze rose over his eyes. Then he leaned
toward her, took her face between his hands, and kissed her.

At first Kelly couldn't do anything but close
her eyes. It felt so incredibly good, like a shower of sunshine
spreading through her bones. Dean's hands, his mouth, the mere
touch of him. Then he got hungry. He moved his head, shifted his
lips. And the kiss went from good to other-worldly. Kelly moaned
and reached up for him.

They seemed to meld, just blend right into
each other. And warmth, such a fantastic warmth grew between them
against the freezing cold water of the stream.

"Aw-w-w," Robby complained.

At the sound, Dean started. With his mouth
still pressed to Kelly's, he seemed to come back to himself. She
could feel him leaving her, first emotionally, then physically. The
delicious warmth retreated as he pulled away.

Slowly, very slowly, in no rush to return to
reality herself, Kelly lifted her lashes.

Dean was looking down at her with an
expression of complete bafflement. As she gazed back, Kelly grew
baffled herself. What had happened to 'her' Dean? She could tell he
was gone. More bewildering yet, the warm feeling inside her, the
connection, wasn't going away. No, it kept growing. Even though
this wasn't 'her' Dean!

His brows curled. "I    "

"Have to take a picture," Kelly interrupted.
She blinked and took a giant step back, nearly falling into the
water. "Historic event," she chattered on. "Have to preserve for
posterity." Her heart was going a mile a minute. What was happening
to her? She didn't even care that 'her' Dean had left! The feelings
   they kept escalating. She    had to
think.

"What do you have to take a picture of?"
Robby wanted to know. He shoved his hands onto his hips. "You're
all done
kissing
."

Dean choked. Kelly laughed. A register too
high. She turned and splashed away from Dean, up the bank. Camera,
camera. She needed something to occupy her hands. Because she
hadn't switched allegiance. She wasn't settling. She wanted
her
Dean, the one who was free and easy, the one who loved
her.

On the bank, Kelly fumbled for her disposable
camera, picked it up, and made herself turn around. Dean was
standing ten feet away from her, fancy suit dripping. He looked
like he wanted to strangle somebody, starting with himself. He
looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. Definitely not
'her' Dean at all. Yet Kelly felt something puff up enormous in her
chest.

"Here, I'll take the picture," Robby said. He
shoved past Dean. "Because both of you guys are lunatics."

Kelly didn't protest as Robby took the camera
out of her hands. She was about to drop it, anyway. What was going
on with her?

Dean, meanwhile, had obviously figured out
exactly what was going on with him, and didn't like it one bit. He
got a tight look on his face, the kind that said he was so above it
all. Before Robby could snap a picture, he took a big step
away.

"Staff report," he claimed. "They're all
waiting."

"Huh?" Robby said.

Dean didn't bother to explain. His eyes
flicked once, worriedly, to Kelly. Then he turned, expression
implacable again, and stalked away.

Though he was clearly trying his best to
pretend nothing had happened, Kelly could hear water squishing out
of his shoes.

She wanted to laugh. She might have laughed,
if she didn't want to deny it all so badly herself. She'd fallen in
love with one man. She just couldn't have gone and become
interested in another one.

###

Three hours later she was not surprised to
learn that Dean had fled the scene altogether.

"Emergency," Troy announced when she walked
into the dining room and looked around. His gaze was close on her.
"In Atlanta. Said he'd be out of town 'til Monday."

Kelly stood in her floor-length gown, the one
she'd picked out especially for Dean, and tried to absorb her
disappointment. He was gone. Well, that was...good. Yes, good.
Because she was having serious doubts about her sanity.

She'd kissed him, the 'other' Dean
   twice now. She'd
felt
something for him. She'd
just spent the entire afternoon primping and dressing for him. And
now she was disappointed that he was gone.

This wasn't right. It wasn't wise or good. It
wasn't even
loyal
.

"Oh, well then," Kelly said out loud. "Might
as well eat." She walked up to a chair and drew it out. But her
mouth felt stuffy.

Robby half climbed, half sat in his chair.
Troy seated himself elegantly in his own. With his brows rising, he
picked up a linen napkin. "I must say, I can't blame the man for
running. Robby told me you were kissing Dean, in the middle of the
stream by the north fence." He looked over at Kelly.

"He was kissing me," she corrected, and
tossed open her own folded napkin.

Troy snorted. "All the more reason to get
scared. What have you done to him, Kelly, thrown some kind of magic
spell?"

More like he'd thrown a magic spell on her.
She wasn't a fickle person. She'd
married
a man in Las
Vegas. But now, somehow, she was starting to have feelings for this
other man in Massachusetts.

"I have to admit    " Troy picked
up the spoon for his soup. "I didn't think you were going to get
anywhere."

"All of you underestimate me."

"No-o-o." Troy drew out the word. "More like
I underestimated Dean. Who'd have guessed he could hold the
interest of a decent female this long?" Troy shook his head. "You
defy all logic."

Kelly splashed her spoon in her soup. "Logic
has nothing to do with it."

"Hm," Troy murmured.

There was a brief silence. Kelly stopped
splashing her soup. She regarded the warm, golden color of the
butternut squash, then looked up. What had she said?
Logic had
nothing to do with it
.

"I know who I married," Kelly told Troy,
vehemently.

Troy started. "Um," he said. "Okay."

Kelly felt heat build beneath her fancy gown,
the one she'd picked out just in case Dean had been there for
dinner. "I know who I married," she insisted, "and Dean isn't him.
He's    he's    a different person
altogether."

"Uh...
okay
," Troy agreed.

Kelly pushed her bowl of soup away. "All
right, a
part
of him is the same, but only a part. And that
part keeps coming and going so fast I can't keep track of where it
ends and the rest of him begins."

Both Troy and Robby were staring at her. As
her words came back to her, Kelly felt like staring at herself. She
had just said,
she couldn't keep track of where' her' Dean ended
and the other one began
. "Why, there
is
no difference
between the two," she whispered.

There was no schism, no two, distinct
personalities. Dean had been telling the truth in that conference
room in Las Vegas. A part of him was the man she had married. That
part was always there, but it was only one part. He was much more
than that. He was   

Kelly leaned back against the sturdy oak
frame of her chair. Who
was
he?

Troy frowned at her. "No difference between
whom, Kelly?"

Good question. Kelly waved a hand. "I thought
he was a different person. I mean, he's cold, closed-off, and
   and    disapproving." Yes, and that same man
had kissed her in the middle of a stream. He'd soaked his fancy
business suit, wrestled a fish.
Who was Dean
?

"He's...more," Kelly said out loud.

"More than cold, closed-off, and
disapproving?" Troy's frown deepened. "Not that I know of."

"You're wrong." Kelly laughed, but it was a
weak, just-got-hit-in-the-belly kind of laugh. Dean was more. He
was loyal, hard-working, and dependable. And when she closed her
eyes she could see him standing there with his hands on her face, a
look of stark yearning on his own.