Marriage by Mistake

around to open her door. No matter how upset he was, he didn't forget his manners. Meanwhile Kelly saw Kirk put Robby down.
    "More later," the father promised his son. Then his eyes turned to the car. An incredible smile took over his face as Kelly stepped out. She was wearing jeans and an old T-shirt, but Kirk's gaze made her feel like she was wearing Versace. Charm. Oh, the man had charm by the busload.
    "Well, hello," Kirk said.
    "This is Kelly," Dean announced.
    "Your wife." Kirk kept his blue eyes on Kelly. He took her hand and lifted it. "You have no idea how pleased I am to meet you."
    Kelly inclined her head. She was speechless. Everything she knew about this man was negative, yet his charm was irresistible. She could actually feel herself warming toward him.
    Kirk released Kelly's hand and turned to give Dean a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Couldn't have done better myself."
    Dean pointedly ignored this remark, instead asking dryly, "Dropped by in time for dinner, did you, Kirk?"
    "Uh huh." In the face of Dean's obvious displeasure, Kirk stuck to his smile. "But I didn't want to be an imposition so I brought my dinner with me, and yours, too. You hungry, son?" This last was directed to Robby, who'd practically melted against Kirk's side.
    Robby jumped up straight. "You brought dinner?"
    "Oh, just a little take-out."
    Robby squealed in delight. Dean said nothing.
    "Go on. Go on in," Kirk directed Robby, chuckling.
    Robby flicked the briefest of glances Dean's way, then ran to the front door, struggled it open, and slipped inside.
    Kirk offered Kelly his arm. "Shall we?" he asked.
    Kelly glanced toward Dean. Were they supposed to go along with this, whatever it was? Dean merely gave a vague nod.
    Well, all right , Kelly thought, taking Kirk's arm. If this is the way you want it . But she doubted very much this was the way Dean wanted anything at all.
    ~~~
    Dean knew he was more annoyed than he ought to be. So what if Kirk decided to show up with take-out? So what if 'take-out' turned out to be a fourteen-course French dinner complete with French waiters and a French chef the size of a Volkswagen, all direct from Paris? So what? It was, officially, Kirk's house. He could do what he wanted.
    But it was a fact that as Dean sat there watching Kirk play the benevolent host, he felt a growing irritation. Where did Kirk get off acting convivial, as if he fit in? Where did he get off acting like he was in charge?
    But Kirk had no trouble playacting. He divided his attention between Robby and Kelly, like some noble king of the hill. He acted like a damned patriarch. And nobody disabused him.
    On the contrary, poor Robby was in seventh heaven. It was going to take weeks to put him back together after this—weeks! Not that Kirk cared about that part of things, the real part. Kirk probably didn't even notice that Troy had made himself scarce. Troy avoided Kirk whenever he could, torn between an old gratitude for Kirk taking him in after his parents had been killed, and a more enduring wariness regarding Kirk's acid tongue.
    No, Kirk didn't notice his nephew's absence, nor did he notice that the gourmet food was wasted on Robby. On Kelly, too, for that matter. Dean was amused to see her secretly slip her portion of escargot back onto the silver serving tray. Somehow she managed to avoid getting the frog's legs put on her plate to begin with.
    Yes, despite her show of good manners, Kelly wasn't taken in by Dean's father, and for that Dean was grateful. He only wished she'd stop sending sympathetic glances his way. He didn't need sympathy. Yes, he was annoyed, but he'd live. He wasn't a child any more, like Robby, to get taken in by the show and later disappointed. On the other hand, he'd sure like to know why the old man had shown up after all. Dean's telegram had been painfully explicit. He wasn't wanted.
    Kirk had his reasons, Dean supposed, reasons that had nothing to do with taking care of his nine-year-old son.
    Dean was confident he'd be hearing all about it soon enough.
    "And so!" Kirk suddenly boomed. He placed his palms on either side of his plate and beamed at Kelly. "Just how did you meet my son?"
    Kelly went still. So did Dean. What did Kirk care?
    "Uh." Kelly sent Dean another glance, this one begging for assistance. Assistance? Hell, Dean couldn't even remember how they'd first met.
    "Yes?" Kirk prompted.
    Slowly, Kelly turned back to Kirk. She scratched the side of her mouth. "We, uh, met outside my place of