Marriage by Mistake

line anyway. It wasn't the right way to do things, but neither was Robby's paper clip hook or cheese bait correct, so Kelly figured it evened out. She stooped and plunged her hands into the stream.
    "It's getting away!" Robby wailed.
    "No. No, it isn't. I feel it!"
    "You don't." Suddenly Dean was right in front of her.
    "What?" The sight of him, up to his high-tailored knees in water, made Kelly start. She dropped the fish. "What—what the heck are you doing, Dean?"
    "I'm going to get that fish," he replied, and plunged his own hands into the stream.
    For half a second she stared at him. He was going to ruin his suit. Then her eyes widened. "Oh, no you don't. That's my fish— I mean, Robby's." She moved to intercept. Too late.
    "Got it!" Dean crowed and lifted a wiggling fish. His jacket sleeves were soaked but he gave Kelly an unmistakable look of triumph.
    "Ha!" Kelly gloated as the fish slipped out of his grasp. She lunged for it.
    So did Dean. They collided midstream.
    "Oof!"
    "Hey!"
    "I've got it."
    "No, I have."
    Robby was screaming something, Kelly couldn't understand what. Meanwhile neither she nor Dean actually had the fish, which wriggled between their pressed-together bodies. Kelly's hands grappled with Dean's in the slippery mess between them.
    "Can't you—?
    "Over there!"
    At one point they almost had it, four hands wrapped around the scaly creature. But Kelly could feel the fish gaining ground.
    She started to laugh. It was too much, Robby jumping up and down on the bank, the two of them soaked and fighting this poor fish. Talk about stress! Still laughing, her eyes met Dean's.
    Her breath caught in her throat.
    Dean's hold on the fish loosened.
    "Shoot!" Robby exclaimed, as the fish wiggled free.
    God , Kelly thought. Oh God, oh God . It was there, shimmering in the air between them, the special something, the zing—exactly what she'd felt the first time they'd met in Las Vegas. As if...as if the two of them had been born soul mates, as if they understood each other and always would. As if they belonged together.
    Dean looked like he'd been hit by a baseball bat. Kelly thought he was going to stumble backwards, but he didn't. Instead, a sort of haze rose over his eyes. Then he leaned toward her, took her face between his hands, and kissed her.
    At first Kelly couldn't do anything but close her eyes. It felt so incredibly good, like a shower of sunshine spreading through her bones. Dean's hands, his mouth, the mere touch of him. Then he got hungry. He moved his head, shifted his lips. And the kiss went from good to other-worldly. Kelly moaned and reached up for him.
    They seemed to meld, just blend right into each other. And warmth, such a fantastic warmth grew between them against the freezing cold water of the stream.
    "Aw-w-w," Robby complained.
    At the sound, Dean started. With his mouth still pressed to Kelly's, he seemed to come back to himself. She could feel him leaving her, first emotionally, then physically. The delicious warmth retreated as he pulled away.
    Slowly, very slowly, in no rush to return to reality herself, Kelly lifted her lashes.
    Dean was looking down at her with an expression of complete bafflement. As she gazed back, Kelly grew baffled herself. What had happened to 'her' Dean? She could tell he was gone. More bewildering yet, the warm feeling inside her, the connection, wasn't going away. No, it kept growing. Even though this wasn't 'her' Dean!
    His brows curled. "I—"
    "Have to take a picture," Kelly interrupted. She blinked and took a giant step back, nearly falling into the water. "Historic event," she chattered on. "Have to preserve for posterity." Her heart was going a mile a minute. What was happening to her? She didn't even care that 'her' Dean had left! The feelings—they kept escalating. She—had to think.
    "What do you have to take a picture of?" Robby wanted to know. He shoved his hands onto his hips. "You're all done kissing ."
    Dean choked. Kelly laughed. A register too high. She turned and splashed away from Dean, up the bank. Camera, camera. She needed something to occupy her hands. Because she hadn't switched allegiance. She wasn't settling. She wanted her Dean, the one who was free and easy, the one who loved her.
    On the bank, Kelly fumbled for her disposable camera, picked it up, and made herself turn around. Dean was standing ten feet away from her, fancy suit dripping. He looked like he wanted to strangle somebody, starting with himself. He looked