"Oh? Then what did the two of us have to talk about?" Kirk sounded interested.
"Wait," Dean said again, louder.
"I don't know what," Kelly told Kirk. "But I'm sure it was something. And you got here first."
Kirk looked pleased. Dean shouted louder, "Wait!"
His voice reverberated against Kelly's peach-colored walls. For a moment there was silence. Then Dean slit his eyes toward his father. He spoke low, but clearly. "I don't know what kind of trouble you're here to stir up, but I give you fair warning, I won't allow it."
Kirk puffed himself up. "I'm sure I don't have any idea what you mean."
"It's not as if Dad knew you were coming," Robby told Dean, adopting his own lecturing tone. "Come to think of it, what are you doing here?"
"Yes," Kirk wanted to know, too. "Why are you here?"
Dean looked at Kelly. Her heart was too high in her throat for her to say anything, but she was asking the question hardest of all. What was he doing here? The marriage was over. He'd told her so. And she'd agreed. Kelly swallowed. This had to be about their divorce.
"There's something — I'd really like to talk to you," Dean said softly. "Couldn't we speak alone?"
Kelly tried to breathe. No. She didn't want to discuss a divorce. She didn't want that to be what he'd come all the way across the country to discuss. "No, I — No," she said.
Kirk snorted. "There. What does that tell you, son? She doesn't want to be alone with you."
Kelly lifted her chin. Kirk was right, but for the wrong reasons. "Whatever you have to say," she told Dean, "can be said right here and now."
Dean's accusing look nearly killed Kelly, but she wasn't going to budge. If he really wanted to end everything, permanently, she didn't want to take it alone.
His jaw tightened. "You're making this extremely difficult."
"I — I'm sorry, but this is the way it has to be."
Dean's lashes lowered. "I see." Then he raised his eyes again. His lips firmed. "Fine. If this is the way you want it."
Kelly straightened. "It is."
"Go ahead," Kirk sighed. "Get it over with, already."
Dean shot his father a fulminating look, then turned back to Kelly. "All right. I'll say it. I want you to come home."
A moment of intense silence followed this pronouncement. Kelly felt her heart stop right in her chest. He wanted her to come home. It was the last thing she'd expected him to say.
Dean turned red but he barreled on. "I want you to come home with me. It — it makes sense. You know it does. We're married. We made vows. We — we get along. There is no reason — " Dean's eyes narrowed. "No reason we shouldn't be together."
Kelly still couldn't breathe. Not a divorce. He didn't want to talk about separation. He wanted her back! She felt a moment of supreme elation.
Then Kirk started to laugh. "You want her back?" Dean glared daggers at the man but Kirk went on. "Because you get along? Because it's reasonable?"
"Yes," Dean retorted, a hiss.
Kirk laughed again. "As a beg, son, that hardly cuts it."
Though her heart was still racing, Kelly felt brought up short. Kirk was right. Dean wanted her to come home...because it was reasonable? Where was love in this equation? Where was trust? Oh, he hadn't changed, not one little whit. And she hadn't changed, either. She'd been so impressed she'd nearly fallen right into his stubborn arms. Kelly narrowed her eyes. "You tell me," she asked Dean. "Is that it?"
Dean's blue eyes were nearly black as he stared at her. "You need something more?"
Kelly stared back at him. Inside she was shaking. She wanted to tell him, 'No, I don't need a thing more, only you.' She wanted to feel his arms, strong and sure, around her. But her brain was whirling. She had to withstand the temptation.
Didn't she?
She had to stand up for what she deserved, which was something other than what Dean offered her.
Wasn't it?
Suddenly the determination that had defined Dean's face stripped away. The expression left was raw anguish. "Forget it," he muttered. "I never should have — " He shook his head and turned away, making for the door.
The door. Kelly's body jerked in reaction. Wait! She didn't want him to go. At least that's what her heart was shouting.
She felt herself stiffen into immobility, for she was supposed to doubt her heart, wasn't she?
Before Kelly could decide what she should or shouldn't do, Dean was out the door. He was gone.
"Booted him," Kirk said, and gave a low whistle. "Wish I knew how to do that."
###
Dean rushed down the stairs of Kelly's third-story walk-up and ran right past his rental car parked on the street. He wanted to get away, as far and as fast as possible.
Stupid. He was an idiot. And a coward. The minute he'd seen Kelly — and then his father — every well-rehearsed speech had gone flying out the window. He'd simply been overcome by all he wanted. All he needed. Come home. How more brutish could he have gotten?
Already breathing hard, Dean started to run. He felt a pressure increasing in his chest, choking up his throat. He'd botched it. His one chance and he'd thoroughly botched it. He could still see Kirk smirking at him. And Kelly, her face so...disappointed.
And why shouldn't she have been disappointed? He hadn't told her anything important.
Dean ran until he was out of breath. On a street corner under a giant plastic donut, he bent over, gasping for air and hating himself.
Then he heard her voice. It was way down the sidewalk. "Dean!" She sounded breathless but determined.
At first, still bent over, he didn't believe his senses. It couldn't be Kelly. That would mean she'd come running after him and she wouldn't have done that, not after his terrible performance in her apartment.
"Dean!" somebody shouted again, and this time she was much closer. Skeptical, Dean straightened. Disbelieving, he turned.
Ten feet down the deserted sidewalk from him Kelly stumbled to a stop. She was still in her bathrobe, her hair was wild, and there was a crazy look in her eyes. She was panting.
No, Dean thought. But there she was right in front of him. Beautiful, sweet, and unattainable. He felt his throat work but nothing came out.
She didn't say anything, either, just looked at him. All of Dean's wishes, all his desires, his everything, was standing there in the person of this woman. He thought he was going to explode if somebody didn't say something. "How are you?" he finally managed to croak out.
Kelly looked incredulous. "What?"
"How are you?" Dean took a deep breath. "That's what I really came out here to find out. I know I hurt you two weeks ago. I — I wanted to make sure you were all right."
Kelly's eyes widened.
Dean saw her surprise and a ragged laugh escaped him. "Kind of hard to believe, huh? I — I guess I didn't leave you with the impression I cared." His voice lowered. "But I do."
Kelly continued to stare at him. Her disbelief launched another arrow into Dean's already aching heart. He felt that organ twist with all he'd never told her, all he'd been too afraid to admit, even to himself.
Well, if ever there was a second chance this was it. Dean closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "I care, Kelly. I really care. I...love you. That's it. Love. Just — love. That's how I feel." He gave another whispery laugh and opened his eyes.
Kelly was staring at him in a way that made Dean's heart sink. He'd failed, once again.
Then she launched herself at him. It was too fast for Dean to do anything but gasp, clutch her close, and try to keep them both from landing on the pavement.
"Oh, Dean. Dean, Dean, Dean." She rained kisses all over him; eyebrows, nose and both cheeks.
Dean crushed her gently. Her warm, lithe body was actually in his arms. How was this possible?
"You said it." She squeezed him tightly. "You actually said it."
It took Dean a second to understand what she meant. Meanwhile he didn't dare let go. "Oh," he said. "D
id you like that?"
Kelly pulled back to stare at him. "Did I like it?!"
Dean felt his face turn warm. "I guess what I mean is, love is a feeling and, well, feelings, they're not very reliable, are they?"
Kelly gazed at him round-eyed. "You think feelings aren't reliable?"
Dean had to look away. "Well, mine are..."
"Dean." She turned his chin so he had to look at her. "My feelings are reliable, too. And I love you. I do."
Dean felt a very strange pressure, deep in his throat. She loved him. He hadn't known how...big it would feel to hear the words. Or how hard it would be to believe them. "But — you left," he tried to disagree.
Kelly's lashes dropped. "I did. Because you couldn't hear that. You weren't believing it."
He hadn't. He wasn't. How could she love him — forever?
Kelly raised her eyes. "You still don't believe me."
Alarm flashed through him, but she suddenly grinned. "All right. I guess you're just going to have to do the experiment and find out."
"The experiment?"
She hugged him gently around the neck. "Take me home and find out if my feelings last. It's a long experiment. Might take forty or fifty years, but eventually you'll get your answer."
Dean knew he was staring at her. He'd let her down, but she was just smiling at him, so beautiful, so generous, so...loving. He tried, and failed, to swallow. "You're...coming home with me?"
She tapped his chin. "How else can I prove my feelings are forever?"
"Kelly — " Then Dean couldn't say any more. He pressed his face into the curve of her neck. He hadn't driven her off? Amazing. On her waist, his hands trembled. "I'll do anything, anything, to make this work," he vowed.
"Oh, Dean." He could feel her stroking his hair. "All you have to do is be yourself. I love you just the way you are."
Dean went very still. The words echoed in his brain. Oh, he could almost...remember them. That's right, standing in the hot desert air, next to a building with a huge wooden yellow sun tacked to it, and Kelly. Oh, Kelly looking up at him with her clear, sincere eyes.
Slowly, Dean drew back from their close embrace. He looked down into her face. She blinked up at him, quizzical. In that moment he understood. Oh, the memory blew away, ethereal as smoke, but the understanding remained. Her words, the sentiment — it was what had driven him to follow Troy's hypnotic suggestion in the first place. It — this — was what he'd wanted. Not wild sex, not an irresponsible alliance, but this: the love of a good woman.
"Oh," Dean said. "Oh." It was so absurdly simple. So...rational. He started to laugh.
"What?" Kelly demanded. "What?"
Dean felt emotions swell up in his chest. Humor, understanding, need. And love. That's what it was all about, wasn't it? Love.
"What?" Kelly asked again.
Dean made a low noise in his throat. "This," he said, and lowered his head. Kelly's lips felt like coming home. Well, a combination of coming home and flying to the moon. Dean drew in a sharp breath and moved in closer, exulting when Kelly pressed back. Oh yes. She, like he, wanted a perfect union.
For a long time they stood there, trying to forge that union with their mouths. Finally, reluctantly, Dean pulled back.
Kelly made a protesting noise, but Dean set her apart, resolute. "I'm not done — My speech," he panted out.
"Your speech?" Kelly looked dazed.
Dean laughed a little. "On the way over I had a few hours to put one together."
"Mm?" Kelly was making a visible effort to clear her brain of the kiss.
Dean brushed a finger down her cheek. "I may actually be able to say it now."
"Hm?" Kelly blinked back to full awareness. "To say what?"
Dean sighed and shifted her in his arms. "Yeah, I may be able to say it, since I'm trusting and taking chances here..." He slipped one hand into his inside jacket pocket. He watched Kelly closely as he pulled forth a red silk handkerchief. "You, uh, left this in my office a couple months ago."
Kelly watched, frowning, as Dean unfolded the handkerchief. In the center was a simple gold band. From the look that then crossed Kelly's face Dean was pretty sure she remembered throwing it at him during their first meeting in his office.
He cleared his throat. "You know me, always wanting to cross the t's and dot the i's. I brought it along thinking — " His heart took a long, deep dive. "Well, thinking, Kelly — Will you marry me?"
She looked up from the ring to his face. "Oh, Dean."
The expression on her face nearly blew him away, but Dean managed to remain standing. Feeling both elated and terrified, he shrugged. "I know we already are married, but I still don't remember the ceremony and I'd really like to remember marrying you, Kelly."
"Oh, Dean."
He cleared his throat again. "Is that a 'yes?'"
She threw her arms around his neck. "Yes!" she cried. "Yes, yes, yes!"
Dean struggled not to fall as she jumped onto him. Grinning madly, he decided he could get used to this taking chances business.
###
They had the wedding at the Little Chapel of the Dawn again. This time, however, Kelly invited her friends. Dean had Troy fly out to be his best man. And there was a little family confab beforehand.
Dean and Kelly gathered all involved parties in her apartment the night before the wedding. Even Felicia Thurgood attended, though her presence was a surprise, given that she'd always been the arch-enemy of the man who'd brought her along, Dean's cousin, Troy. But that evening Felicia and Troy, arm in arm, were beaming in the way that only a couple in the beginning stages of a love affair can beam.
Dean took a look at the two of them, his expression somewhere between astonishment and comprehension. "I knew something more was behind that check," he muttered, and gave Troy a slap on the back that made him stagger.
"Thought you did," Troy grumbled, and looked about to slap Dean back — amiably, of course — until Kelly stepped between the two of them.
"It's so good to see you two actually talking to each other..."
"As opposed to throwing punches," Felicia finished, with a pointed look toward Dean's colorful jaw.
Dean massaged his jaw with a sheepish expression while Troy coughed into his fist, just as sheepishly.
"Anyway," Kelly went on, linking an arm through Troy's. "We're glad you could come — both of you."
"Uh, that's right," Dean agreed, though he gave Felicia one more baffled look.
Kelly mentally shook her head, thinking Dean should be the last one to question a long-shot romance.
Eventually, everyone who'd come to the meeting found places in Kelly's apartment to sit. Dean seated himself last, settling on the edge of Kelly's Lazy-Boy. He planted his elbows on the chair arms, steepled his fingers, and looked straight at his father. "I want responsibility for Robby," he announced.
Kirk, who'd been lounging on Kelly's sofa with his arms along the top of it, shot up his eyebrows. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"
"It means we're going to formalize what I already should have been doing. Robby is going to live with me. Permanently. And I'll be the one to make decisions concerning him." Dean paused. "Including when you can whisk him off to Greece with you."
Kirk's eyes got narrow. Robby, meanwhile, looked stunned. "Why?" Kirk asked.
Dean gave his father a direct stare. "Because, face it, you're not much of a parent."
Kirk snorted. Dean ignored him and went on. "Unfortunately, I've been following your example, refusing to take full responsibility. Well, I'm through being like you, or even thinking I'm like you. I'm going to do what I want now." His gaze went up to Kelly, standing by his side. She smiled back down at him. Their fingers met and laced.
Kirk's brows drew down. "And you want to take care of Robby?"
Dean turned to Robby. White-faced, Robby stared back at him. To one side, Troy raised his eyebrows.
"Yes," Dean said.
Kirk tapped his fingers on top of the sofa.
"Well, I don't know."
"No more telegrams demanding you come home." Dean's attention switched back to Kirk. "You can do whatever you want."
Kirk's eyes got even narrower. "Happens I like the telegrams."
Dean blinked. Unhampered by surprise, Kelly stepped in. "Fine. We'll continue with the obnoxious telegrams, sent at random intervals. We won't forget you."
Kirk looked at Dean questioningly. Dean frowned, obviously confused, but he nodded. "Yes," he told Kirk carefully. "We'll stay in touch."
Troy, nudged by Felicia, cleared his throat and offered, "Yes, Uncle Kirk. We'll keep in touch."
Kirk's gaze shot to Troy, then back to Dean. After a long moment he lifted his arms from the sofa and stood. "You want Robby? Fine. You got him."
There was a beat of silence, then Robby whooped, and ran to throw his arms around Dean's neck. Dean's eyes went wide, but he hugged Robby back.
Kirk, looking distant, shrugged. "Well, I'm off. Who knows? I may even catch up with Marisa."
The next morning at the quaint little chapel with the big yellow sun tacked onto its side, the wedding ceremony proceeded without a hitch. Completely done with his sulks, Robby was the ring bearer. Troy and Felicia, trading meaningful glances, played the part of the attendants. Both bride and groom looked suitably besotted.
Upon being pronounced husband and wife, the groom kissed the bride with a warmth and passion that convinced everyone present how deeply in love he was. As Dean led his new bride down the aisle and toward the front door, however, a peculiar expression crossed his face.
"What?" Kelly asked.
Dean frowned and started to shake his head. Then he leaned down to whisper in her ear. Kelly immediately turned a bright shade of red. "You remember!" she accused.
"I do," Dean admitted, looking rather pink in the face himself. "That much, anyway, and only just this minute. But that's beside the point. What do you say? Could we?"
Kelly gave a quick glance to the side to make sure no one could hear them. "Fur-lined handcuffs? What else do you remember?"
Dean got very close to her ear. "That we never got around to using them. But we will this time, darling, we surely will."
Kelly could tell by his smile, confident now — maybe a wee bit too confident — that, indeed, they would get around to using them 'this time.' She raised her brows, then smiled and snuggled closer to his side. Dean might surprise her now and then, but he was never going to be a stranger again. She knew just who he was now: the man who loved her, really loved her.
Marriage by Mistake Page 29
