He didn't want anything more from Kelly, Dean assured himself, curbing an urge to jump out of the bed and pace. He didn't need more. All he needed was Kelly's commitment to making an effort. And that was exactly what he'd gotten. A body couldn't ask for more than that.
Dean closed his eyes. He told himself that everything was fine. Quite all right. Deliberately, he planned the drive home the next day. Once they'd picked up Robby they could stop for lunch at an old farmhouse restaurant he knew. Dean imagined Kelly's face when she saw the vegetarian sandwiches they could put together. She loved vegetarian sandwiches.
It would be a good time.
Dean's breathing calmed. His heart rate slowed. Everything was all right. But it was a long while before he managed to fall asleep.
###
"Too much air-conditioning?" Dean asked. He glanced from the road to Kelly as he steered the 4 x 4.
"Hm? No. I'm fine." Kelly gave him a bright smile. They'd been walking on eggshells around each other ever since they'd gotten out of bed at the fancy resort that morning. She wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe it was because something had been said the night before, but not enough.
Yes, yes, it had been enough for her, enough for right then, but not enough for either of them to feel completely secure.
First thing in the morning they'd packed, had a quick cup of coffee, and then driven straight over to the outdoor camp to pick up Robby. Dean's half-brother had acted as if he'd been away for a month instead of two nights. Kelly had felt her nerves calm in the ebullient joy with which Robby had greeted them.
Dean, too, had seemed to loosen up under the onslaught.
He does love the kid, Kelly had thought, watching Dean hook an arm around Robby's neck. He was capable of the emotion. She'd felt the scared places inside of her soften. Dean knew how to give love. He didn't quite know how to receive it, that was all. That's why he'd stepped back from a real proposal, one including an avowal of love. Despite his apparent confidence, he was still wary of Kelly's response.
In the car now watching the summer countryside roll by, Kelly wondered once again if she ought not take the initiative. Maybe she should tell Dean that she loved him.
Or would that be a disservice? Perhaps it was better to let Dean believe in himself enough to take the plunge. Waiting for Dean might take time, it involved some risk, but it could turn out better in the long run.
Kelly was still pondering the matter an hour later when Dean turned the car through the big iron gates of the estate. As he drove down the long, winding road toward the house he made a small, strange sound.
Kelly glanced over. "What?"
Dean only pressed his lips together and shook his head. Meanwhile in the back seat Robby stirred. "Hey," he muttered. Then he shot forward against his seat belt. "Hey!" he exclaimed, full volume. "Dad! It's Dad!"
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Kelly craned her head to see the house. Coming out of the huge double doors was a tall, trim man with a crown of thick white hair. He stayed on the top step, feet apart, hands on his hips — a picture of lord of the manor.
Handsome. Oh, from a hundred yards away Kelly could see he was the very devil of a handsome thing.
Dean said nothing as he pulled up in the circular drive. Robby was bouncing up and down in his seat. It was clear that despite Kirk's prolonged absences — or perhaps because of them — Robby adored his father. As soon as Dean stopped the car, Robby was out of it, running. "Dad! Dad!"
Kirk laughed and grabbed Robby up in his arms. He whirled around with the boy. Dean, meanwhile, turned off the motor.
Kelly swiveled to look at Dean. He was staring past her at the man still twirling the boy by the front door. He didn't say a word as he popped open his car door.
Um, okay, Kelly thought. She'd guessed the relationship between Dean and his father was troubled. It seemed she was about to see exactly how bad it was, and from a front row seat.
Dean came around to open her door. No matter how upset he was, he didn't forget his manners. Meanwhile Kelly saw Kirk put Robby down.
"More later," the father promised his son. Then his eyes turned to the car. An incredible smile took over his face as Kelly stepped out. She was wearing jeans and an old T-shirt, but Kirk's gaze made her feel like she was wearing Versace. Charm. Oh, the man had charm by the busload.
"Well, hello," Kirk said.
"This is Kelly," Dean announced.
"Your wife." Kirk kept his blue eyes on Kelly. He took her hand and lifted it. "You have no idea how pleased I am to meet you."
Kelly inclined her head. She was speechless. Everything she knew about this man was negative, yet his charm was irresistible. She could actually feel herself warming toward him.
Kirk released Kelly's hand and turned to give Dean a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Couldn't have done better myself."
Dean pointedly ignored this remark, instead asking dryly, "Dropped by in time for dinner, did you, Kirk?"
"Uh huh." In the face of Dean's obvious displeasure, Kirk stuck to his smile. "But I didn't want to be an imposition so I brought my dinner with me, and yours, too. You hungry, son?" This last was directed to Robby, who'd practically melted against Kirk's side.
Robby jumped up straight. "You brought dinner?"
"Oh, just a little take-out."
Robby squealed in delight. Dean said nothing.
"Go on. Go on in," Kirk directed Robby, chuckling.
Robby flicked the briefest of glances Dean's way, then ran to the front door, struggled it open, and slipped inside.
Kirk offered Kelly his arm. "Shall we?" he asked.
Kelly glanced toward Dean. Were they supposed to go along with this, whatever it was? Dean merely gave a vague nod.
Well, all right, Kelly thought, taking Kirk's arm. If this is the way you want it. But she doubted very much this was the way Dean wanted anything at all.
###
Dean knew he was more annoyed than he ought to be. So what if Kirk decided to show up with take-out? So what if 'take-out' turned out to be a fourteen-course French dinner complete with French waiters and a French chef the size of a Volkswagen, all direct from Paris? So what? It was, officially, Kirk's house. He could do what he wanted.
But it was a fact that as Dean sat there watching Kirk play the benevolent host, he felt a growing irritation. Where did Kirk get off acting convivial, as if he fit in? Where did he get off acting like he was in charge?
But Kirk had no trouble playacting. He divided his attention between Robby and Kelly, like some noble king of the hill. He acted like a damned patriarch. And nobody disabused him.
On the contrary, poor Robby was in seventh heaven. It was going to take weeks to put him back together after this — weeks! Not that Kirk cared about that part of things, the real part. Kirk probably didn't even notice that Troy had made himself scarce. Troy avoided Kirk whenever he could, torn between an old gratitude for Kirk taking him in after his parents had been killed, and a more enduring wariness regarding Kirk's acid tongue.
No, Kirk didn't notice his nephew's absence, nor did he notice that the gourmet food was wasted on Robby. On Kelly, too, for that matter. Dean was amused to see her secretly slip her portion of escargot back onto the silver serving tray. Somehow she managed to avoid getting the frog's legs put on her plate to begin with.
Yes, despite her show of good manners, Kelly wasn't taken in by Dean's father, and for that Dean was grateful. He only wished she'd stop sending sympathetic glances his way. He didn't need sympathy. Yes, he was annoyed, but he'd live. He wasn't a child any more, like Robby, to get taken in by the show and later disappointed. On the other hand, he'd sure like to know why the old man had shown up after all. Dean's telegram had been painfully explicit. He wasn't wanted.
Kirk had his reasons, Dean supposed, reasons that had nothing to do with taking care of his nine-year-old son.
Dean was confident he'd be hearing all about it soon enough.
"And so!" Kirk suddenly
boomed. He placed his palms on either side of his plate and beamed at Kelly. "Just how did you meet my son?"
Kelly went still. So did Dean. What did Kirk care?
"Uh." Kelly sent Dean another glance, this one begging for assistance. Assistance? Hell, Dean couldn't even remember how they'd first met.
"Yes?" Kirk prompted.
Slowly, Kelly turned back to Kirk. She scratched the side of her mouth. "We, uh, met outside my place of business."
"Really?" Kirk was still beaming. "And what sort of business are you in, my dear?"
"Oh." Kelly waved a hand. "I'm a dancer."
Kirk's smile dropped. For the first time since they'd arrived back home, he came to a dead halt. "A dancer?"
Dean felt his teeth grind. His father's surprise was way overdone.
Indeed, eyes wide, Kirk now turned to Dean. "We're not talking about Las Vegas, are we?" His disbelief was enormous. Apparently Kirk knew the whole story.
"Oh, sure we are." Kelly spoke up cheerily. "On the Strip."
Kirk rounded on her. "And I suppose you met outside the stage door?"
Why not? It was on the tip of Dean's tongue to say it, to demand Kirk explain why Dean wasn't allowed to meet women outside stage doors. But Kelly jumped in first.
"Actually, it was by a slot machine," she explained.
"A slot machine!" Kirk gasped. "You can't tell me my son was gambling!"
"Oh, no. I mean, it was just a quarter machine," Kelly quickly clarified.
Kirk put a hand over his heart. Dean felt more annoyed than ever, and that was before Kirk's eyes narrowed on Kelly, before he tried to look, almost, serious. "Tell me, if it's not too much to ask — just how well did you two know each other before you tied the knot?"
Dean's eyes widened. Now that was the last straw, Kirk playing holier-than-thou. "We knew each other well enough," he claimed, firm. But he caught Kelly's eye. For an instant the truth hit him like a two-by-four. They'd only known each other for two days. Everything Kirk was implying was, well...true. But fine. That — that was still irrelevant. Dean waved an arm, determined to regain control of the conversation. "Why don't you tell us what brought you home, Dad?"
There was silence around the table then. Even the waiters, who probably didn't understand a word of English, shut up. Dean met Kirk's eyes and smiled. He could easily imagine Kirk's true situation. He'd screwed up his trust fund, his latest wife was suing him, or he was running from an irate mistress. It was no surprise when Kirk backed down.
"We'll discuss that later," he said, sounding lofty.
Dean smirked to himself. Oh, he'd just bet they would.
###
With dinner done, Kelly felt dazed. Something was happening between Dean and his father but she couldn't tell exactly what. Once the meal was over, Robby glommed onto Kirk and dragged him out of the room, chattering something about a really great video game. The French waiters rushed the table like a pack of piranha, stripping linens and piling china.
In the midst of all this, Dean remained in his seat, tapping his thumb rhythmically on the table top. "I'm sorry about that," he finally said.
"Sorry?" Kelly asked. "What do you have to be sorry about?"
"The hypnosis, how we met — that was all my responsibility. You didn't have anything to do with it."
Kelly was surprised. Where was this line of thought coming from? And besides — "What do you mean? I fell in — I mean, I decided to go out with you, to marry you. Of course I had something to do with it."
Dean turned to look at her directly. "You had no idea what you were getting into."
"Well..." Kelly couldn't argue with that. The man she'd married hadn't told her anything about his real life. But then, he hadn't had much time to tell her anything. She'd just figured they fit.
And as it turned out, they did.
Dean rose from his seat with a sigh. "Don't worry. I'll do everything in my power to get Kirk out of here by tomorrow."
"Well, I — " Suddenly they were talking about Kirk again.
"He only wants something — money, help with his lawyers, a place to hide. It should be easy enough to gratify him." Dean stretched as though he were perfectly at ease and smiled down at Kelly. "He'll probably come by the study to discuss it with me as soon as he can shake Robby."
"Oh." Frowning, Kelly rose from her seat, too. "Then I guess...I'll see you later?"
"Of course." But Dean's casual expression faded. "Don't worry. I won't let Kirk become an issue in our lives."
Their eyes met. In that moment Kelly saw that, in fact, Kirk was going to be a big issue in their lives. "O-kay," she said slowly.
Abruptly, Dean smiled again. "Your bedroom tonight?"
Her bedroom? Kelly halted. They were keeping separate bedrooms? Even after their agreement to 'keep things going?'
They were going to have to talk about this. Just like they were going to have to talk about Kirk and Dean's problems with him. And maybe they had to talk about the hypnosis, for good measure.
Somehow, Kelly was sure, all these things were connected.
But they needed time and privacy. So in the dining room, surrounded by French waiters, Kelly just smiled. "Sure," she replied. "My bedroom." She leaned forward and kissed him. They were going to talk. She was not going to let this fester. Heck, this might even be a chance to break through Dean's remaining defenses. "See you," she murmured, and smiled with extra warmth as she turned and left the room.
###
Dean knew it would take Kirk a while to divest himself of Robby. He also knew Kirk would take his own sweet time before dragging whatever sorry problem he had to his older son. So Dean sat behind the desk in his study and attempted to busy himself with some neglected paperwork.
But he couldn't concentrate. The more he thought about it, the more furious he became. For weeks Kirk had ignored Robby and his school situation. Now he rode in and thought he could play the white knight.
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!"