Marriage by Mistake

pocket for his cell phone. He didn't look at his watch. Instead he rearranged his palm around her hand to get a better grip and smiled.
    "So," he asked, looking down at her. "What's next?"
    Kelly's lips parted. He wasn't going to run back to his office? He wasn't going to plead some kind of business emergency to sort through his emotions? She closed her mouth and cleared her throat. "Um, well..." An afternoon at the Parker House occurred to her, but she knew they weren't ready for sex. Dean had turned some sort of corner, to be sure, but it wasn't yet love.
    If it was love, he would have said so.
    He wore a big grin, however, an appealing one, as he turned to face her. Still holding Kelly's hand, he began to back up the path. "Have you toured downtown Boston yet?"
    "Have I toured?" Other than the walk between his office and the Parker House, that was? "No."
    "Good." Dean's smile broadened. "Then I can show you the sights."
    "Oh." Kelly couldn't help staring. He really had turned a corner. He seemed happy, eager...relaxed.
    Dean turned to face forward again. He pulled her along. "The Freedom Trail. That should be sufficiently hoke—er—" He broke off and his face turned red.
    "Hokey?" Kelly guessed, and tilted him a look.
    To her surprise, Dean laughed. An outright, unconsidered laugh. "All right, hokey," he admitted. "But I think you'll enjoy it."
    "Because it's hokey."
    Dean threw her sidelong glance. "If the shoe fits..."
    "Then I ought to wear it?" Kelly laughed, too. Then they shared a look, smiling, connected. Kelly felt a hiccup of pleasure. Well, this was...unexpected, a truly different side to Dean, joking and spontaneous.
    She found herself stepping closer, hooking her arm with his. Okay, maybe she should question this new side of Dean, maybe she should wonder what was really going on. Maybe she should, but she wasn't going to. Heck, why ruin a perfectly good moment?
    For one day, she could just enjoy whatever was.
    ~~~
    It was the closest Kelly had seen Dean come to the Dean she'd first met in Las Vegas. He looked happy, he had a sense of fun, he laughed.
    They started out on the Freedom Trail, the red-brick line that wound through downtown. After two churches and a cemetery, however, they decided to abandon the formal, tourist path.
    "Maybe I didn't have you pegged so well, after all," Dean said, coming up behind Kelly where she roamed, frowning, amidst three-hundred-year-old headstones.
    She looked up at once, alert and concerned. But he seemed to be taking his miscalculation in stride.
    "Let's try the Haymarket," he said, and took her arm. Adaptable, unruffled. And casually taking possession of her as if—well, as if they belonged together.
    That felt awfully good. "Let's," Kelly agreed, and held onto him.
    Arm-in-arm then, they strolled through the Haymarket. Buyers and sellers argued over the price of vegetables, and fish lay in gleaming silver piles. Dean steered Kelly around spilled vegetables and the odd fish head.
    "Two hundred years of rats have been cleaning up here after hours," he told Kelly. "Speaking as an expert in the field, I can tell you by now it's built into their genetic code."
    She laughed.
    From Haymarket they ducked into the relative sanity of Faneuil Hall, where carts lined up under glass awnings sold everything from Red Sox banners to hand-carved sculptures. Dean waited patiently while Kelly debated between buying a straw scarecrow or a wooden chess set for Robby. Not once did he evince a desire to be out of her presence or doing something else. Not once did he check his telephone or his watch.
    As Kelly paid for the chess set, she felt a deep contentment. She didn't know what had prompted this about-face behavior on Dean's part, but she did know she liked it. This was good for him.
    And it wasn't so bad for her, either.
    She felt wanted, she felt appreciated. She felt like she was getting to know a man who might actually come to care for her.
    She turned, wrapped bag in hand, to find Dean watching her with an arrested expression. "What?" she asked. Lord, she hoped the castles she'd been building in the air weren't showing on her face.
    To her relief, Dean shook a smile back on. "Nothing." He lowered his head closer to hers. "I'm just enjoying myself."
    Kelly met his eyes. "You're enjoying yourself." She dared to add, "for a change."
    Dean's smile went crooked. "For a change." He straightened and took the bag from her hand. "Are you hungry?"
    "I'm ashamed to admit it, after