Marriage by Mistake

all the man she had married.
    Hmph. Kelly swept the cerise aside to pull a purple spandex miniskirt off the closet rack. So actually, this 'date' might not be such a bad idea, after all.
    ~~~
    On a Saturday night Troy had any number of parties to choose from, the host of which would have been glad for his witty, charming presence.
    On this Saturday evening he wasn't getting ready to go to a single one of them. He was sitting in Dean's formal dining room laying out solitaire hands. As he dealt the cards, he listened for the descent of Kelly from her bedroom. That scary interview of hers with Dean in the study had turned into a date.
    Not that Troy was worried about Kelly. She could obviously hold her own with Dean, which meant, coincidentally, that Troy didn't have to worry about the outcome of his little bet with Robby, either. She'd be gone in a week, more's the pity.
    Troy heaved a gusty sigh as he flipped the cards in a game of Klondike. No, he wasn't worried about Kelly. He was sitting here all by himself because he couldn't bear to be with anybody he knew.
    He couldn't bear to be with himself, for that matter. Specifically, he wished he could part company from the segment of himself that kept thinking about Felicia.
    Since Monday and his altercation with her at the tennis court, he hadn't been able to get the woman out of his mind. He kept seeing the expression on her face when he'd told her the news about Dean. She'd resembled a delicate little bird, yes a delicate little bird that had just gotten shot between the eyes.
    Considering how much Troy hated the memory of that expression, it was bizarre how often it kept popping into his head.
    "Damn," Troy muttered. "Lost again." With a vigorous movement, he swept the cards into a pile.
    All week he'd been trying to tell himself that Felicia's shot bird expression hadn't been his fault. Because, hey, was there anything wrong with telling Felicia that her wonderboy, Dean, had gotten married? All Troy had done was tell her the truth. Dean was married.
    But all week his rationalizations had fallen flat. Even if it had been right to tell Felicia about Dean's marriage, Troy hadn't done so in a right way. He'd done it to let fall a drop of poison. And he'd been careful to let that poison fall at the precise moment to cause the most pain, embarrassment, and humiliation possible.
    Troy pulled the cards into a tight pile and squeezed his hands around their corners. There was no rationalization for his behavior. He'd been rude. Deliberately, inexcusably rude. He breathed in and out slowly while admitting what that meant.
    The knowledge was bone deep, ingrained young and repeated often. The proper thing to do. For all Troy's ne'er-do-well, good-time, occasionally-land-in-the-pokey ways, he never strayed from the "proper thing." Because it wasn't "improper" to live solely off a trust fund, or get arrested for speeding, or even fall into bed with somebody else's wife. But it was exceedingly improper to act rude. It simply wasn't done. And if it was done, then one had to apologize.
    Hissing out a breath from between his teeth, Troy tossed the cards onto the table. He jumped from his seat and glared at the hearts and diamonds spread across the gleaming surface. There was no getting around it. He had to apologize. Good God. To Felicia.
    ~~~
    On Saturday night Dean prowled the downstairs hall, shifting his shoulders in his black tuxedo. This date was going to work. It had to. Starting with the choice of clothes Kelly would make for going to the opera, he would see how completely wrong she was for him. The sexual attraction would diminish. The way she'd hold herself, treat the opera, the boredom he knew she'd exhibit—it would all work toward curing him of this embarrassing attraction.
    Dean knew he could not continue to feel passionate about a woman who yawned at La Bohème.
    Troy walked out of the dining room to drop into one of the hall chairs. He shuffled a deck of cards while gazing at Dean with something between curiosity and challenge. Robby was already waiting in the hall, swinging his legs over the side of a sofa and blinking at his half-brother. Dean scowled at the both of them. The pair took far too proprietary an interest in his bride, and Dean had a good idea why...
    A rustling sound from above had Dean whirling. Dimly, he was aware of Troy halting his shuffling, of Robby freezing in his seat. But mostly he saw Kelly.
    Kelly in a lipstick red pantsuit. The material