Marriage by Mistake

every respect. What you said about how I don't want to do or be anything because I'm afraid I wouldn't measure up. You were so right. And— And it's safer not to want things." He looked away and sucked in his lips. "Much safer."
    Felicia gazed at him as he stood there, so handsome with his hair falling over his forehead. Yes, he was sensual, but more. She'd never again be able to dismiss him as that nasty Troy Singleton. He wasn't a monster, but a human being, with a human being's load of dreams and desires—and wounds.
    For the sake of that human being, she smiled and claimed, "Well, for what it's worth, I do think you could be more. And measure up."
    Troy looked back at her and his eyes crinkled. "Ah, Felicia. You are never going to give up."
    "Excuse me?"
    He looked ceilingward. "You are still trying to get me to be your fundraiser."
    "Well! I'm sure I—"
    "Don't worry." Troy was back to his lighthearted self. "Now that I've seen the place and everything you do here I'll be sure not to ruin things by sticking my oar in the water."
    "Oh, Troy." He was impossible .
    "But thanks for showing me around." Laughing now, he pushed off the jamb and walked toward her. His hilarity sobered as he reached quickly, gently, to touch her cheek. "And thanks for explaining things to me. It helps...kind of."
    He looked into her eyes and she felt punched. There was so much person, so much Troy in his eyes. Then he smiled again, jaunty. "Goodbye, Felicia."
    "Goodbye, Troy." She told herself that whatever she'd just seen in his eyes meant nothing. This idea of being in love with her was a mistake or a joke. Or—or just some passing fancy. Two months, right? Whatever he felt, it couldn't be love .
    But before she'd even started ironing it out he was gone, striding athletically out the door.

    CHAPTER TWENTY

    Well, that hadn't accomplished much. As Troy walked down the sidewalk of the seedy area of Boston, he decided that his little trip to Felicia's pet foundation had been the exact opposite of constructive.
    It was bad enough Felicia had announced she could never return his feelings, but he had to go and get all worked up over the whole family shelter thing.
    Scowling, Troy went down the stairs and into the humid heat of a subway station. He paid the fare, went through the stile and looked up to see a train pulling into the station. Instead of getting on the train, however, he crossed his arms and leaned against the old, tiled wall of the station. He watched broodingly as the train closed its doors and hummed electrically away.
    He wasn't ready to go anywhere, he was too...depressed. Depressed beyond any depression he could remember experiencing. Because, hell, he didn't get depressed.
    But that shelter had brought back memories, memories he'd prefer to have kept buried. He remembered when they'd come to the house of the friend with whom he'd been staying while his parents went off on their exotic vacation. They'd told him his parents had been killed. On impact, they'd said. Child Protective Services had been mentioned. Troy had been terrified.
    Fortunately, someone had remembered he was cousins with Dean. Kirk had come. Yes, for his dead brother's son he'd actually bestirred himself. Papers had been shuffled and signed. For that, Troy would always be grateful to his uncle.
    He had not gone to Child Protective Services.
    But today, seeing that little kid with his cancer-ridden mother...Troy remembered how close he had come.
    Down in the quiet subway station, he shook his head, trying to shake the dread-filled feeling away. But it wouldn't go, especially now that it was attached to the little talk he'd had with Felicia. Felicia, who thought he was like her roving, philandering father.
    And so wanted nothing to do with him.
    Troy rubbed his mouth and watched another train come into the station. He glared at the halting train and admitted he bore some resemblance to Felicia's father. He was a Singleton, after all. They were not the most constant or responsible of men—Dean being an exception. Troy had never taken on a responsibility in his life. He'd certainly never considered taking on the responsibility of being a husband. And 'husband' was obviously what Felicia was looking for. A constant, reliable, worthwhile husband.
    Troy winced. He couldn't hack being a husband, let alone a worthwhile one. But on the other hand, he had a sinking feeling that his emotions toward Felicia were not nearly as temporary as, out of pride, he'd led