Marriage by Mistake (34 page)

And what had that been about, interrogating
Kelly? Questioning Dean's judgment. As if any of it, top to bottom,
were Kirk's business!

Dean ground his teeth and told himself not to
get worked up. He didn't want to get into a big argument with Kirk.
He only wanted him out of there, him and his...insinuations. He
would give Kirk whatever he wanted and then bid him good-bye.

But Dean had to wait an hour-and-a-half
before Kirk sauntered into his study. He walked in chuckling. "That
Robby," he told Dean. "Busted my butt on his video game."

"That's no surprise." Dean looked up from his
papers. "He's had plenty of time to practice."

Kirk fumbled his grin. He started to look
confused.

Immediately, Dean regretted his words.
Bringing up Kirk's neglect of Robby would start a rancorous
discussion. All he wanted was to get rid of Kirk. So Dean set aside
the budget analysis he'd been working on and managed a smile. "Why
don't you have a seat?"

"Hmm." Kirk kept looking at Dean, then seemed
to decide everything was copasetic, after all. "Don't mind if I
do." Chuckling again, he took the chair opposite Dean's desk. With
only a brief hesitation, he hooked an ankle over a knee and leaned
back, comfortable. "Hey, you've made a few changes in here, haven't
you?"

"No." Dean's answer was automatic, an attempt
to get the conversation back on track, but then he blinked and
remembered the television Kelly had set up so she could spend time
with Dean while he worked, and the cheap throw pillows she'd
distributed around the room. "Well, perhaps a few changes."

Kirk nodded sagely. "That's how it
starts."

Dean blinked some more but stopped himself
from asking what Kirk meant. He wanted to keep to the matter at
hand. "I must say, I'm more than a little surprised to see
you."

Kirk contrived to look noble. "I came as soon
as I could."

Dean swallowed a snort. It had been almost
two months since he'd first advised Kirk of Robby's situation. It
had been almost a week since Kirk, himself, had claimed he was
coming. "It doesn't matter," he told his father. "I've decided what
to do about Robby. Didn't you get my telegram?"

Kirk gave Dean a strange look. "I got
it."

"But you came anyway." Dean tapped a thumb on
his desk. "What do you need this time?"

Kirk continued giving Dean the strange look.
"Nothing."

Dean's thumb stopped tapping. "I see. You
don't need anything. In fact, you're actually here to deal with
Robby."

"Well, in a way."

"In a way?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "It's a
little late, don't you think?"

"I sincerely hope not," Kirk claimed.

Dean rolled his eyes. No, Kirk would hope it
wasn't too late    to ask to raid Robby's trust fund or
some such irresponsible act. "Why don't you tell me what you
want?"

"I told you." Kirk's brows drew down.
"Robby."

Dean stopped and frowned at Kirk. "You're
serious."

"Dead so." Kirk dropped his dangling foot to
the ground. "I left Marisa on the boat off of Greece. Robby and I
can be on the first plane out of Logan tomorrow and meet up with
her in Crete."

Drag Robby onto the first plane out of Logan
   ? And Dean could only guess who 'Marisa' was. The
whole thing was ridiculous, another one of Kirk's half-baked plans.
"You want to take Robby to Greece?" Dean hoped the mere enunciation
of the idea would make his point.

"It wasn't my first choice," Kirk told Dean.
"But I'm determined to do what I can."

Dean took a deep breath and folded his hands
on his desk. He felt anger winding up like a spring inside of him,
but he was determined to suppress it. He couldn't afford to lose
control when Robby's welfare was on the line. Quietly, he asked,
"And how, pray, does flying Robby off to Greece and your mistress
help anybody, Kirk?"

Dean's father was giving him the strange look
again. "Well, it'll take Robby off your hands, won't it?"

"Ye-us?"

"Give you one less problem to deal with?"

"A-und?"

"A-und you have enough of a problem dealing
with your wife," Kirk claimed.

Dean went dead still.

Kirk leaned forward in his chair. "You're in
trouble here, son. As soon as I heard about it, I hightailed it off
the yacht and got myself a ticket home."

The wound-up anger inside Dean nearly sprang
free. But he kept his voice soft. "What are you talking about?"

Kirk laughed. "I'm talking about you married.
Tell me that isn't a hoot!"

Dean evened his breathing with an effort. It
was not uncommon for his father to make fun of him. It didn't need
to affect him more today than on any other occasion. "I'm afraid
you've made a long trip for nothing." Dean spoke very, very softly.
"You see, I have absolutely no need of your help."

Kirk raised his eyebrows. "Don't you,
though?"

"No."

The two men looked at each other. Dean waited
for Kirk to back down, for his cowardly, ineffective father to
break. Instead, one side of Kirk's mouth quirked. "Coulda fooled
me."

Dean said nothing. He knew what Kirk was
doing. His father often wanted to get his goat. He couldn't stand
the fact Dean had grown out of him    despite Dean having
grown out of him thirty-odd years before. Dean knew he shouldn't
feel angry, and he
wouldn't
have felt angry if the little
worm of panic, the one he'd been fighting off for weeks now, hadn't
used this opportunity to crawl its way to the surface.

Kirk scratched the side of his mouth.
"She's...quite an eyeful."

Dean forced his voice to calm. "And why
shouldn't she be?"

Kirk shrugged. "No reason. Just, uh,
something that might have hurried you down the aisle."

Dean clenched his jaw. "I was in no more of a
hurry than you have been in, on occasion."

Kirk flashed a grin. "See, that's what I'm
talking about. Like father, like son."

Dean had to make himself breathe.
No, I
wouldn't say that. I wouldn't say that at all
. He wanted to
declare it. But his mouth wouldn't open to say the words.

Kirk laughed. "Who'da guessed?"

Dean glared at him, but his heart was
pounding madly. Indeed, who would have guessed? Dean hadn't
   until that moment. No wonder he'd been so unreasonably
disturbed that his father had come home. The man was like a
   a symbol. A living announcement of Dean's folly. Oh,
how very like his father he had acted    and was still
acting!

Kirk clasped his hands over one knee. "Can't
say I blame you. The girl's something else. Hard to think straight
around a female like that."

Dean was starting to feel sick. "I can think
clearly enough." But it wasn't true. He hadn't been thinking
clearly at all.

Kirk seemed to know it, too. He laughed.
"Who'd have thought
you
could be impulsive?"

He hadn't been impulsive. Dean wanted to say
that. But impulsive precisely described his marriage to Kelly.
Hell, he'd been
hypnotized
. How much more impulsive could a
man get? And since then...well, since then there'd been the
fantasy.

Kirk gave him a patronizing look. Meanwhile
Dean tried to remain logical. So, he'd acted impulsive. It had
worked out. Kelly had even said she was staying.

But the panic was rising, climbing up his
gorge. So what if Kelly
said
she was staying. What did that
signify?

Kirk hooked his elbows over the back of his
chair. "I tell you it was worth the trip to see this: you actually
acting human."

Dean glared at him. "I have always been
human. I've just never wanted to    "

Kirk raised his eyebrows when Dean stopped.
"You've just never wanted to...what? Make a mistake? Admit you had
needs?"

Dean stood up from his chair. The fear was
like an animal inside him, clawing through his gut, fighting up his
throat. He hadn't made a mistake. Nor did he have needs. He
wanted
Kelly, that was all. He was independent. He was in
control. He didn't count on fantasies.

I'm not like you
. Dean wanted to say
that. He wanted to shout it at Kirk. But he didn't.

Kirk stood up, too. He'd stopped smiling.
"All right, fine. You don't need me. You never have. But I'm here,
all the same. And I've already told Robby about the trip and he's
thrilled, so I'm taking him."

No you're not
. Dean wanted to say
that. He wanted to keep Robby with him, keep him on track toward a
stable routine come fall. He wanted to claim that
his
life
was stable, that it was all settled and not like Kirk's life at
all.

Dean wanted to say that, but he didn't.

Scowling now, Kirk threw up his hands. "I'm
taking Robby. So you've got your wife to yourself, whether you
wanted her that way or not."

Dean was still standing behind his desk when
Kirk left the room. The fear was like a chain of mail, wrapped
around him. He didn't need his wife to himself. Their relationship
wasn't that temporary. He'd wanted to say that.

But he hadn't.

He couldn't.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Dean took so long with his father that Kelly
fell asleep. Propped on a half-dozen pillows and clutching a
paperback, she slept until the switching off of the lamp on her
night table woke her.

"Mpf." She struggled upright, disoriented.
Where was her pink lampshade nightlight? Where was the smell of
cabbage that always seemed to come from Mrs. Rosen's place
downstairs?

"Kelly," a deep voice said, and she
remembered she wasn't in her apartment in Las Vegas. She was in
Dean's luxurious, ugly house. His hand landed on her hip.

"Dean." Kelly tried to remember why he was
coming in late, why he hadn't fallen asleep by her side. Oh, that
was right. His father    She tried to wake more fully.
They had to talk.

But then Dean's tongue licked the rim of her
ear. It was a familiar gesture, a prelude. Muzzy as Kelly's brain
was, her body got the message immediately. She plunged into a state
of need. "Dean..."

He understood her unspoken desire. He pulled
her close. She could feel the rough hair of his chest through the
thin material of her negligee. She could smell his own special
scent. Sparkles of sensation quivered over her skin.

"Never mind," Kelly gasped. Whatever they
were supposed to talk about, it could wait. She wiggled against
him.

Dean growled. In a sudden, almost violent
burst of motion, he lowered Kelly to her back.

In the dark, their eyes met. Kelly could see
in Dean's a strange and heavy need. She almost stopped everything.
He looked to be in pain. Then Dean nudged her thighs apart. The
expression on his face turned intent, determined, utterly
masculine. Kelly felt her own need rise, stopping her questions.
She helped him find his place. In one smooth motion, he plunged
in.

"Oh, Dean," Kelly sobbed.

"Very    Yes."

It had become familiar, this ecstasy at the
joining of their bodies, but it was still a spinning that went up
to her head. Dean grunted and began to pump. Kelly's eyes widened.
"That's so...good," she rasped out.

"Yes," Dean agreed on a hiss. He grabbed
Kelly's hips and continued the mating rhythm; hot, heavy,
desperate.

Indeed, it was rough and hard, not the way
they'd been these past few weeks. It was...raw emotion.
"Keep...going," Kelly begged. She curled her fingers over his
shoulders and squeezed. Above her she felt the movement of his
muscles, the damp of his exertion. Her nerves began to tighten,
every fiber reaching. She began to gasp. This was going to be
amazing.

And it was. Her whole body went off like a
firecracker. At the same moment Dean arched and went taut against
her.

"Kelly," he groaned.

She felt her eyes begin to tear. She wasn't
even sure why. Their coupling had been amazing, fantastic. Still,
it made her weepy. Something wasn't right. "Dean," she murmured,
and relaxed her fingers to stroke her hands down his chest.

"Shh," he said, and pulled her against his
body.

"But I don't    "

"Shh," he said again, low. "Just... Let's be
quiet."

Let's be quiet? She wanted to know what was
wrong. But Dean clearly didn't want to tell her. He only held her
close, and at length the warmth of his body and the exhaustion of
her own got the better of her. She fell fast asleep.

###

The next morning Kelly woke up alone in her
big bed. She squinted at the empty place beside her, then looked
around the room. No sound came from the bathroom. Dean wasn't even
in her suite.

With a groan she sat up. She couldn't believe
it. She'd wanted to talk to Dean last night. She'd been determined
to make him open up. He needed to talk about his father and
whatever was bothering him.

Instead she'd let the man have his fine way
with her and now he was gone.

Kelly rubbed her forehead and wondered if
Dean had planned it that way. Had he wanted to avoid the issue?

She got dressed and went downstairs, upset
she even had to consider Dean might be back to using sex in order
to avoid a meaningful conversation.

At the bottom of the stairs, she saw a bunch
of suitcases. Kirk was standing next to them in the front entry,
talking to Jackson.

Kelly bit the inside of her cheek. It seemed
Dean was following through on at least one determined course. He
was getting rid of Kirk.

Warily, she approached the pair talking in
the entry. Would Kirk blame her for getting the boot? And if so,
would he be justified? She really should have gotten Dean to talk
last night. If she had, he might have tried dealing with his
father, instead of getting rid of him. That would have been
healthier.

Kelly was wondering what she could say to
Dean's father when there was something in the nature of a small
explosion behind her.