Marriage by Mistake

She strode toward the locked door that led to the attached building next door.
    Torturing herself? Taking an unnecessary risk? ...Or pushing that final button, the one that was going to move Troy.
    Felicia had a key, given to her by the hopeful realtor. She used it now to unlock the door and open it onto the large, empty warehouse space. She walked in and flipped the switch for the set of naked light bulbs around the walls. Her skin tingled as Troy walked in after her. They were now alone together in the big, echoing space. But she put on a serene smile as she turned to face him.
    "And this," she told him, "is our 'new wing,' or what we hope to acquire. We could really use it, as I imagine you can now see. But...we don't have a down payment."
    Troy hummed and took a polite look around the empty space. Felicia knew he understood what she'd actually said. She could really use his services. Oh, if he would only deign to exert himself, Felicia just knew he could get that down payment together.
    Smiling wryly, Troy leaned against the open door jamb. "I was right the other night."
    "Excuse me?"
    He laughed softly. "About you being a good person. You are that, in spades."
    "Oh, please. And didn't we agree, that same night, that it wasn't a good idea to trade compliments?"
    Troy chuckled and looked down at his shoes. "Yeah, we did, but...why did we decide that, Felicia? That is, it seemed to make sense at the time, but I've been having a harder and harder job remembering our reasoning." His gaze came up to hit hers. "Remind me. Why did we decide it wouldn't work out for us to get together?"
    Felicia stilled. Was this why he'd come today? To test her resolve? "You know why."
    "Because we're too different?" He sounded doubtful.
    Felicia wasn't to be deflected. "Yes, because we're too different."
    His head canted to one side. "But that could be a plus, don't you think? Maybe we could, oh, balance each other out."
    "No."
    It was Troy's turn to go still. Felicia knew then that she'd blown it. She'd dismissed the idea too quickly, betraying she had another, better reason for refusing a relationship with him.
    "O-kay," he said, and looked at her.
    Felicia expelled a breath and took a pace away, one hand to her forehead. Maybe she should tell him. If he understood, he might go away. With her hand still on her forehead, she spoke. "Look, my mother married my father when he got her pregnant with me. She was wildly in love with him. But my father, well—" Felicia lowered her hand and released a dry laugh. "My father had never wanted to be married. And so...he didn't bother to act like he was married. I don't think he lacked some kind of girlfriend the entire span of my parents' marriage. But my mother hung on...for too long."
    Troy's dark eyes watched her, not with the mockery that was so familiar but with something else; close attention, processing, and finally, it appeared, comprehension.
    "You don't want to be in love," he said.
    Felicia let out a long breath. He did understand. And now she didn't have to say such a difficult thing out loud. She nodded.
    Slowly, Troy straightened. "I must admit, it's flattering that you believe you could fall in love with me."
    "'Could' being the operative word."
    He chuckled. "Yeah. Anyway, I'm grateful for that much, since I'm pretty sure I'm already in love with you."
    Her head whipped toward him.
    His smile was rueful. "I was halfway there and then Dean dropped out of the running. It didn't take long to fall the rest of the way."
    Felicia knew she was staring. "You," she demanded, "are in love with me?"
    He shot her a deriding glance. "Don't look too impressed. My being in love doesn't mean as much as some other guy doing it. I must have been in love, oh, a dozen times—just this year."
    She laughed, but was painfully certain it hadn't come out right, light and unconcerned. But she should be unconcerned, because he was correct. Him being in love wasn't nearly the serious matter it might be for another man.
    Meanwhile Troy lifted a shoulder and leaned against the jamb again. "But now that you've explained, I can see where you're coming from. It wouldn't do for a serious woman like you to get involved with a man who thinks two months is akin to a lifetime commitment."
    Their eyes met. Two months, Felicia thought. No, she shouldn't be concerned—or impressed or excited or any other stupid thing—if that's what Troy meant by being in love.
    "You were right about me," Troy went on, sobering. "In