The Marriage Solution

by Megan Kelly

  Tara waited until the door closed behind Dylan, which took less time than she needed to pull herself together. Since letting Jay in the house, Dylan had restrained himself, given the way his hands had clenched and his jaw had remained hard throughout their encounter. If only she could mirror his self-control.

  Jay looked much the same as always, impeccably groomed, tanned and sophisticated. He’d spent time somewhere sunny, judging by the blond highlights in his hair, which he prided himself on achieving only on the beach.

  His charm didn’t appeal to her now nor could he convince her of his sincerity. He’d barely spared a glance for Jimmy, other than to assess whether his son shared his own good looks.

  She’d been living with a real man this past week. In comparison, Jay was just a very tall boy.

  She gathered the children’s plates and turned to the kitchen. “What do you really want, Jay?”

  He spread his hands innocently. “Just what I said. To get to know my son and to see you again.”

  “Uh-huh.” From past experience, she knew he’d have an angle. “And?”

  “And what, babe? Isn’t it enough I wanted to visit you?”

  She sidestepped as he came closer, keeping the syrupy plates between them. He’d never risk the sticky mess on his clothes. The musky scent of his cologne clogged her throat. Not for the first time, she appreciated Dylan’s natural masculine scent.

  “Babe, what’s the deal here? You sleeping with that guy?”

  “That’s none of your business.” She set the dishes in the sink, wary to turn her back long enough to rinse them properly.

  “You’ve got my kid here while you live in sin?” Jay shook his head in mock dismay. “Corrupting his mind.”

  “Get off it. Nobody thinks that way anymore, especially you.” She couldn’t count the number of girls he’d been with before her, and probably a few in the years they’d dated. Taken in by his charm, she’d wanted to believe him when he’d claimed his heart belonged only to her. “Besides, it’s not sin. We’re married.”

  Jay stepped back as if she’d slapped him. “You’re what?”

  She crossed her arms and propped her back against the kitchen counter. “I have to get to work.”

  “Okay, babe, it’s like this.” He gave her a shamefaced smile. “I’m in a bit of a fix, and I thought, since I’m the father of your kid, you’d help me out.”

  Tara gaped at him before she started laughing. Holding her belly with one arm, she wiped at her eyes with her hand. “That’s a good one, Jay.”

  He scowled. “Knock it off, Tara. I’m serious.”

  That set her off again. The absolute nerve. As though she’d be grateful for his part in getting her pregnant? For what, his expert technique, or his abandoning her once she told him they’d conceived?

  “You owe me.”

  That sobered her like nothing could. She glared at him. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

  “All these years, I never bothered you. I let you raise my kid and never threatened to take him away.”

  Tara went still. “You’re on dangerous ground, Jay Three.” The pet name irritated him, she could see it in the flaring of his nostrils. “I’ll ask one last time. What do you want?”

  He thrust his hands into his shorts’ pockets. “Money. I’ll pay you back.”

  That would be a first.

  “What did you do with yours?” His family possessed twice the Montgomerys’ fortune. “You’re not still gambling?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Let me guess.” She smiled without humor. “It was a sure thing.”

  “No, not horses. I learned my lesson there.” He dropped his gaze. “Blackjack.”

  Casino hopping had been fun, back in the day. The chances Jay took and the fortunes he wagered added to the excitement of being with him. Now she could only shake her head. He had a gambling problem, which might have started as a relief from boredom but had developed into a serious addiction.

  “What about your trust fund?” she asked. “Didn’t you get access to it when you turned twenty-five?”

  He nodded. “It’s gone.”

  Tara dropped onto a chair. “Jay. It’s only been two years.”

  “I know, I know. I don’t need your lectures, too.”

  “Your family knows?”

  He ran a hand through his hair, barely ruffling its expensive perfection. Jay Summerfield might be poorer than a street beggar, but he’d make sure to look impeccable.

  Which she had to admit, he did. But what had attracted her beyond his looks? He’d introduced her to passion but also to wild nights at dance clubs and parties with exotic celebrities. Everyone knew him—probably, she thought with hindsight, because everyone had loaned him money at one time. Their relationship had been a spaceship ride, full of new adventures, exciting risks, and not-so-cheap thrills. At seventeen, she’d considered him a wild and enthralling twenty-one-year-old when they’d started dating.

  Youth. She could only shake her head and be grateful she’d made it out relatively unscathed.

  “I don’t have money anymore, Jay. I left home when my parents wanted me to have an abortion.” She shrugged. “It was the baby or their fortune. They made it clear I’d have to choose.”

  Jay opened his mouth but shut it again after catching her eye.

  Wise decision.

  He swallowed. “I know you don’t get control of your trust until you hit twenty-five, but what about your grandmother’s money? You got that, right, on your twenty-first birthday?”

  He certainly knew a great deal about her financial situation.

  “My parents found a loophole in Grandmother’s wording, since I left home before I turned twenty-one.” She shook her head. “I’d planned on saving that money for Jimmy’s college tuition.”

  “I hear you, T-baby.” He hooked an arm under her shoulder, pulling her to her feet and into his embrace. “Not having money is rough.”

  His definitions of needing money and having it rough probably differed from hers, but she let it go. She stood in his arms for a minute, this alien visitor from the land of Wealth, one of the few people who could understand the magnitude of her loss, but she felt nothing. No thrill of lust or love had survived his defection.

  “One kiss,” he said, “between friends?”

  She shook her head, but he lowered his anyway, claiming her lips in his expert manner, his technique perfected through way too much practice. Once, he’d been like a movie star to her, and she’d been a silly girl blinded by a crush she’d thought was true love.

  What she’d shared with Dylan the night before wasn’t true love, either. Maybe true love would remain elusive, and maybe someday she’d have to compromise on her standards, but it wouldn’t be with Jay.

  His forehead creased as he stepped away from her. “You’ve changed.”

  “No doubt. It’s been more than four years.”

  “You used to kiss me back. With passion, babe. Don’t you remember how hot it was between us?”

  “Yeah, Jay, but that’s all in the past now. Memories.”

  Someday, that was all she’d have left of Dylan, too. The air vacated her lungs, making her chest hurt.

  DYLAN RUSHED HOME after work—well, after his hours spent at Riley and Ross Electronics, anyway. He couldn’t say he’d accomplished much actual work. All day, images of Tara and Jay together had tortured him, although he knew from his mother that Tara had arrived at the day care shortly after he’d dropped off Lily and Jimmy.

  It shamed him that he’d called to ask. When the gnawing ache in his gut wouldn’t let him concentrate, he’d sought reassurance. Hopefully, Tara wouldn’t find out.

  Closing the front door, he glanced around his domain. He didn’t spot any obvious signs of disruption, but the place felt different. An interloper had invaded his home.

  But for now, he only observed Jimmy and Lily in front of the TV set, engrossed in a cartoon of Little Bear. Usually they’d be coloring or play
ing. Maybe after the morning’s upset, Tara had decided to allow them time to veg out. “Hey, guys.”

  “Hi, Dylan,” Jimmy said in a near whisper.

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  Dylan’s mouth dropped open. She’d never called him that before. Thinking it better to let it pass, he didn’t comment on his new title. Fortunately, Lily wasn’t expecting him to as she continued watching Little Bear pick berries. He doubted he could have gotten words past the tightness of his chest anyway. He cleared his throat and suppressed the sappy grin that wanted to explode. “Where’s your mom, Jimmy?”

  “Getting dressed up.” The boy scowled at the TV.

  A flaming meteorite crash-landed in Dylan’s stomach. “Why?”

  Jimmy crossed his arms over his chest, brows lowered and jaw jutting out. “She’s going out to dinner with that guy.”

  Dylan’s teeth clenched. “Oh?”

  Lily tipped her head back and locked her gaze on his. “Tell her not to go.”

  “It doesn’t work that way, pumpkin.”

  “Do you want her to go?”

  Hell, no. “That’s not the point.”

  His sweet baby grimaced at him, clearly unhappy with his lack of action. He wasn’t too thrilled himself.

  “Oh, good, you’re home,” Tara said, coming in the room. A satiny turquoise dress hugged her body and ended way short of her knees. It showed both too much leg and too much chest for her to leave the house. She fastened on a silver necklace with a heart locket and glanced at him. “Dinner’s in the oven warming. You can take it out any time you guys get hungry.”

  He waited for an explanation. Not that she owed him one.

  “I’m having drinks with Jay.”

  “Drinks?” Even he could hear the suspicion in his tone.

  She met his eyes. “He spoke to his parents today about their plans.” She cut her eyes toward Jimmy. “So I’m going to try to talk him out of siding with them.”

  “Dammit. That—” He remembered the kids sat close by and caught back the next expletive. “That jerk. Do you think you can convince him?”

  Her mouth twisted. “I know what he wants. I’m just not sure I can give it to him.”

  She’d better not plan to give that loser what he wanted. Dylan clamped his jaw shut, holding his breath as he did when buddy-breathing underwater. Patience. Trust. And for God’s sake, don’t panic. “Is there something I can do to help? Heat some tar and pluck some feathers?” He gave a half grin. “I can enlist Adam and Joe to help me run him out of town.”

  She shook her head. “Thanks, but no. It’s best to deal with him head-on.”

  “You look nice, by the way. If you can’t charm him into seeing sense, no one can.”

  Tara blushed and brushed at her shiny dress. The turquoise shimmered like the waters of the Caribbean, making her eyes appear darker and larger. He’d like to lose himself in her eyes, watch as they darkened for him as they had when he’d made love to her. Silver hoops adorned her ears. His groin ached as he studied her. His head ached, too, because she’d dressed up for another man.

  Dylan tried not to grind his teeth. He wanted to take her down the hall and lock her in her room to keep her from going. Ah, hell, he wanted to lock them both in her bedroom. A replay of the previous night would do them both a world of good. There were things he needed to say. He wasn’t positive what they were, but they included, “Don’t go out with other guys.”

  A knock sounded at the door. Tara crossed the room to let in the prince of darkness.

  Chapter Eight

  Tara stiffened and sensed Dylan close behind her. Her parents stood outside the door. Her mouth went dry. “Mom, Dad. I didn’t expect it to be you.” She felt an arm go around her waist and the warmth of Dylan’s body thawing her chill.

  “But we’re glad it is,” he said. “Come in.”

  Hadn’t he ever seen a horror movie? Once the blood-suckers were invited in, they couldn’t be kept out. She gestured them toward the couch, then turned to Jimmy and Lily. “Children, you remember Jimmy’s grandma and grandpa from the wedding, don’t you?”

  They nodded and came over. Jimmy stuck out his hand, such a miniature copy of Dylan, it made her smile.

  “And who is this?” her mom asked.

  Tara took a breath for calm. Maybe they hadn’t met Lily at the wedding. It had been a hectic time and no doubt they’d felt out of place.

  “This is my daughter, Lily,” Dylan said.

  “Oh.”

  The dismissal in her mother’s tone twisted something inside Tara. “Which makes her my stepdaughter.”

  Dylan shot her a look while she cleared her throat. “You kids go play down the hall, please, while we grown-ups talk.”

  Lily tugged on Jimmy’s hand and got him to follow her.

  Tara blew out a quiet breath, easing onto the love seat beside Dylan. Hopefully Lily hadn’t picked up on her comment. Not that it was untrue—she was the girl’s stepmother, and felt decidedly wicked, to boot. “Why are you here?”

  “Jay Summerfield came to see us today,” her father said.

  Dylan’s hand tightened on hers, the only sign she hadn’t gone completely numb.

  “He threatened to side with his parents,” her mom said. “His approval would make them winning a sure thing.”

  Dylan’s arm moved to Tara’s shoulders and he pulled her closer. “We’ll fight them every step of the way.”

  Her dad nodded. “We hoped as much.”

  “What?” Her pounding heart must have masked his words. She couldn’t possibly have heard him correctly.

  “No one threatens our daughter.”

  Tara couldn’t contain one sharp outburst of hysterical laughter. No one but them, apparently. She remembered quite a lot of their threats in the past.

  “We’re offering you the use of our lawyer,” her mom said, “at our expense.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Dylan said. “Mr. Montgomery.”

  “But we want concessions,” her mom added.

  Her father’s hand squeezed her mother’s. “She means we’d like to talk about some things. We’d like visiting rights and to have the boy stay overnight sometimes when he’s older. And we’d like to finance his college education.”

  Her mom turned on him, even as Tara’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Barry, you’re giving them everything.”

  “Well, withholding everything didn’t work out so well for us, did it? Tara has a mind of her own. She probably inherited that from your side of the family.”

  Tara choked on a laugh.

  “And,” he continued, “she got grit from my side. She left home, a pregnant teenager, and here she is, with a job, a healthy son who seems happy, and a family.”

  Tears formed in Tara’s eyes. She felt Dylan’s agreement in the squeeze of her shoulder.

  Her dad eyed her mom. “She doesn’t need us. I’d like to try to get her to want us.”

  “We don’t need your money, sir,” Dylan said. “But we’ll consider it for Jimmy’s future. And the lawyer would be appreciated.”

  “Call me Barry, please. I admire your stance, and I’ll let the offer stand. College money for Tara’s children.” He grinned. “Including those she inherits through marriage.”

  “Dad.” She rose and met him halfway, hugging him tight and battling tears. “What changed your mind?”

  “Jay’s visit,” her mother said.

  Tara sat beside her and hugged her. Her mom sat stiffly in her arms, obviously slower to forgive and forget. “What happened?”

  “He wanted to trade his support in this custody battle for money,” her father said. “Jackass thought he could buy his way into our good graces. Thought he’d have known better.”

  “Because you don’t have any?” Tara teased.

  Her mom’s lips tightened, but her dad barked out a laugh. “No, we have a few. But that bastard got my daughter pregnant, abandoned her, and now he wants to help his parents take the child away from my girl, unless
he’s paid enough money? I don’t think so.”

  “But, Dad.” She couldn’t believe she was hearing this. “You and Mom are the ones who wanted me to have an abortion, kicked me out when I refused, and then refused any overtures from me.”

  Her dad had the grace to look abashed. Her mother gave her a long stare. “Are you going to hold that against us forever?”

  Tara could see genuine fear in the back of her mother’s eyes. She and Dylan held all the cards now. The power made her giddy for three full seconds.

  “No.”

  Her mom hugged her close, for the first time since Tara was about twelve. Being rocked in her mother’s embrace felt like a long-overdue homecoming.

  “Sir. Barry,” Dylan corrected.

  The two men she…cared a lot for shook hands.

  Dylan grinned. “It’s nice to meet someone who shares my opinion of Jay Summerfield.”

  They all smiled, in perfect accord. She wished she could preserve this moment forever.

  “So we could arrange to have some visitation rights?” her mom asked.

  Tara shook her head. “Grandparents don’t need formal visitation rights. Just call and we’ll get together. Actually—” She shot a look at Dylan but knew he’d concur. “We haven’t made any firm plans yet, but Jimmy’s birthday is right around the corner. You should come to his party.”

  “Great idea,” Dylan said. “Tara will fill you in on the details, once we decide on a date and place. In the meantime, the party for Lily’s fifth birthday is Saturday at two. We’re having it at my brother’s house where the wedding took place. You may not have realized it at the time, but most of the people there were my family.”

  “His brother and his wife have eight children.” Tara almost laughed out loud as her parents exchanged a glance.

  Her mom pursed her lips. “We thought perhaps your mother had brought all the children from her day care.”

  “Or you’d rented them from the circus,” her dad added.

  She and Dylan shared an amused glance.

  “I’ll tell the boys you said that,” Dylan said. “They’ll take it as a compliment.”