Just Between Friends (O'Rourke Family 4) (5 page)

“Oh.”

Dylan had never paid much attention to wedding traditions,
but it stood to reason that Katydid would know. He remembered her as a little girl, dressing up as a bride and begging him to play the groom. Until now he’d always refused—even as a child he’d never envisioned marrying a spoiled princess. The idea that he was now legally wed to the Douglas family heiress—the most spoiled princess of them all—was a little more than he could comprehend.

“It’s great about Kane and Beth’s baby,” he said uncomfortably. “A girl. Kane is so proud I think he burst all the buttons on his shirt.”

“I suppose you’d want a son.”

“I don’t want either.”

Kate looked appalled. “You don’t want children?”

“Maybe someday, but we have the next year to survive before I can think about that.”

Hurt filled her eyes and Dylan groaned. Things were harder now, awkward in a way they’d never been between them.

“Yes, well…are you sure you don’t want the large bedroom?” she asked.

The change of subject startled him, though it shouldn’t have. Their wedding had put an end to Kate’s dreams of love everlasting and family and babies. Maybe she’d feel better if she understood it wasn’t an end to those dreams, just a postponement. After they were divorced she could get married again and have a grand bash to put their garden ceremony to shame.

“Katydid…I realize this has been hard for you,” Dylan said slowly. He might not be happy about getting talked into her scheme, but he still cared about her.

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I do worry. You haven’t been yourself all day. I know you’ve had ideas about love and everything going along with it, and your grandmother screwed that up. But it isn’t forever. You’ll be able to get back to doing whatever you want.”

“I see.”

When she didn’t say anything else, he shifted uneasily. “Well, I’m going to grab a shower and pull out some work. I’m putting together a proposal for the J.R. Hansmeir Building. Unless you want to shower first…?”

“No, I’m going to read for a while.”

Kate waited until Dylan was in the bathroom, with the water running. She sighed and glanced around her cozy little home.

Dylan already had the plans drawn up to enlarge the carriage house living area, adding a second bathroom, a combination office and den, and another bedroom on the opposite end from hers. A bedroom he planned to use once his construction crew was done. She was surprised he hadn’t planned separate entrances or decided to build an entirely separate apartment.

“I wish you knew what I want, Dylan,” Kate said softly. “I really do.”

She curled up on the couch and lifted her novel. It was a tale of two lovers in medieval England, trapped by circumstances beyond their control. But tonight of all nights, it had no hope of holding her attention and after a while she put her head down on the cushion, staring into the empty fireplace. Here she was, sitting alone on her wedding night.

A tear dripped down her cheek.

This was really pathetic.

A second tear joined the first.

She could be honest with Dylan and explain everything, but that would send him running for the door so fast he’d be a blur on the way out. And on top of everything else she felt dreadful for the way she’d deceived him.

The tears began falling so fast she couldn’t count them, and after a couple minutes she fled into her room.

D
ylan stood in the shower and let cool water stream over him, wishing it could wash away memories of everything that had happened that day. But a river of ice water couldn’t make him forget the heated moment in the garden when he’d kissed his bride.

“It was just one of those freak things,” he muttered, sticking his head under the spray. “I must have been out of my mind. It could never happen again,” he added, standing straight again and slicking water from his hair.

He didn’t want Kate, not like that. They were friends and he felt responsible for her because she’d been part of his life for so long, but that was all.

Shaking his head, Dylan turned off the water. The awkwardness of living with another person struck him as he reached for a towel—he hadn’t thought to bring a robe into the bathroom. He’d have to put his clothes
back on, just to reach the bedroom without embarrassing Kate. For an instant he wondered how much experience she actually
had
seeing men in their altogether, but it wasn’t any of his business, no matter what sort of legal tangle they’d gotten themselves into.

The sound of hurrying footsteps came down the short hallway, then a door opened and closed.

Kate.

Dylan dried himself, hitched the thick towel around his hips and cracked the door.

“Kate?”

She didn’t answer right away.

“Katydid?” he prompted again.

“Yes?” Her reply sounded muffled and Dylan frowned.

“Are you staying put for a couple minutes?”

“Uh…sure. Wha-whatever you…w-want.”

Damn.

Dylan had enough experience with four sisters to know when a girl was crying and trying not to let it show. He’d rather have hit his foot with a sledgehammer than talk to her about it, but he strode to the bedroom and donned the robe he’d bought after agreeing to Kate’s not-so-convenient marriage plan, then headed back to her door.

“What’s wrong, Katydid?” he called softly.

There was another long silence, then he heard the barely discernable sound of a sniff. “N-nothing.”

Oh, yeah.

He believed that.

Being sensitive and a great listener wasn’t his forte, but even if he didn’t consider that marriage ceremony to be real, Kate was sort of his…wife.

Wife.

His gut churned as he turned her bedroom doorknob. He’d never wanted this kind of responsibility or involvement, but here he was, regardless.

When he walked inside, Kate bolted upright and hastily wiped her cheeks. His stomach twisted again; those weren’t the crocodile tears she’d used when they were kids to sucker him into her schemes, she was genuinely upset and didn’t want him to see. It was just like when her grandmother had died, and she’d pretended it was all right. Kate’s heart could be breaking and she’d try to keep anyone from knowing.

Anyone?

Even him?

Dylan’s equilibrium took an unpleasant jolt. He’d never thought of it that way before, but it might be true. Most of the time he didn’t have a clue what Kate was thinking and feeling. He ought not to mind, preferring privacy himself, but for some reason it bothered him—before he would have sworn she was as open to him as a yellow-eyed daisy.

“Hey, Kate,” he murmured.

She promptly turned her back on him, shoulders quivering. “I’m fine. Go away.”

His instincts shouted at him, saying to leave it alone, to let her work out whatever problem was making her sad. It might not even be a real problem, but melancholy or that time of the month. Of course, if he suggested any such thing it would just confirm that he was a crude male pig with the sensitivity of a brick wall. But even as Dylan decided it was okay and he didn’t mind being branded a male pig, her shoulders quivered once more.

Hellfire.

“It’s okay, Katydid, honest,” he said helplessly. “It’s going to work out. We won’t let the lawyers win or anything, and you can marry someone else someday.”

Kate’s stomach heaved.

Marry someone else?

She knew Dylan didn’t mean to make her feel worse, but every time he opened his mouth, it was like acid pouring on her aching conscience. She wanted
Dylan
, not someone else. And she hated hearing him reassure her about another marriage that wasn’t ever going to happen. Loving Dylan and wanting to be with him wasn’t going to change; her heart and soul weren’t made that way.

“You don’t have to worry about it. Go work on your proposal for that new building complex,” she muttered, straightening her shoulders. As long as he didn’t come around the bed and see the tears still dripping down her cheeks, he wouldn’t be any the wiser.

“No. You’re upset.”

Drat him. Kate gritted her teeth. He was stubborn and impossible and she loved him to distraction. “I’ll bet you think it’s just hormones.”

She shot him a surreptitious glance and saw a guilty look flash across his handsome, rugged features.

“I didn’t say that,” he muttered.

She choked back a sob.

Maybe it
was
hormones. She wasn’t the kind of woman who cried at the drop of a hat, weepy over wobbly kittens and sentimental television commercials. It was ironic that Dylan thought she was a sheltered, immature child when she’d learned to be independent and
take care of herself. She didn’t have much choice—her family wasn’t exactly the emotionally supportive type, any more than Dylan had ever…

She swallowed.

No.

She wasn’t going to compare Dylan to her family. He was a great guy, even if he’d seemed like a stranger all day.

The mattress dipped as he sat next to her.

“I suppose that’s the sort of thing you’d expect from a construction worker like me,” Dylan said quietly. “Something sarcastic about hormones.”

“No, but you’re a guy.” Kate gave in and leaned against him, her cheek landing in the hollow of his shoulder. “I doubt guys can help thinking stuff like that, only the nice ones don’t say it.”

“That’s me, a nice construction worker,” Dylan said wryly.

“I’m talking about all men, and you’re the best man I know, so stop being so hung up on that construction worker stuff. You’re strong and honest and…and…” Her breathing got ragged, and she sniffed.

“Oh, God, don’t start again.” Dylan put an arm around her and stroked her hair. “I’m sure it’ll be better tomorrow.”

Kate tried to stop her tears. She’d promised herself there wouldn’t be any tricks or games in their marriage; if Dylan chose to stay with her, it would be because he truly loved her.

She angled her head back. “Are you really upset about being here? Because if you are…” She choked.

“Jeez.” Dylan pulled Kate across his lap, feeling desperate. It was strange, wanting to comfort her, at the
same time wishing he was on a different planet. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “I’d rather be here than see you married to someone you don’t want to be with.”

“Really?”

“I mean what I say. You know that.”

“I know.”

She let out a shuddering sigh, snuggling closer, and his body hardened—holding Kate was a big mistake. A
huge
mistake. He drew a deep breath, which was another mistake because she smelled like a garden of flowers. The hell of it was that she hadn’t done a thing to warrant his reacting to her, but the warmth of her breath on his throat and her slight weight across his thighs were playing the devil with his restraint.

He’d never had those kind of feelings for Kate. This was
Kate,
pretty, annoying, bright as a newly minted penny, the kid he’d always protected and taken care of. He socialized with a certain kind of woman, the kind who didn’t talk about relationships or expect forever, and she was the complete opposite.

“Are you feeling better now?” he asked, wishing he’d put on a shirt and pair of jeans, instead of a robe. At least they would have helped conceal his response.

“Y-yes.”

But a tear dripped onto his chest, through the V-opening of his terry robe, and he groaned.

“Katydid, don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry. You can leave now. I’m much better.”

He searched through swaths of her thick, long gold hair and cupped her chin.

“Look at me,” Dylan said firmly, hating the way her lashes swept down, concealing her green eyes.

Truthfully, he didn’t quite understand why she was so unhappy. Their marriage represented an inconvenience for the next year, but it wasn’t the end of the world. And it had been her idea in the first place.

“I never meant to make things hard for you,” she whispered. “It’s just a little overwhelming, everything the way it was today, and y-your family being so nice and Kane and Beth’s baby coming. And before, when I talked to m-my dad, he said he would have liked to walk me down the aisle. I didn’t expect him to feel like that.” She hiccuped.

Women were incomprehensible.

“Your father said he wanted to be here?”

“Uh-huh. I didn’t think he’d care about it. I really didn’t.” There was a confused note to Kate’s words, which wasn’t any wonder. Her father had hardly been present for the important moments in her life. He’d hardly been present in her life, period.

Dylan sighed and leaned down to kiss Kate’s forehead. Yet somehow it was her mouth he caught beneath his lips.

A Freudian slip.

An enticing, gut-wrenching slip.

He tasted the salty flavor of tears and found himself deepening the kiss, searching for the sweetness he knew lay below the unhappiness. After a stunned second Kate’s arms moved around his waist and neck, and she arched against him.

He groaned, his senses filled with her. She was invigorating, like the tang of evergreen on the breeze, nothing like his usual bed-partners, with their aggressive, bold demands and determination to be responsible
for their own sexual fulfillment. He’d applauded that aspect of women’s lib, but maybe there was a lot to recommend sharing something…mutual.

Without thinking, Dylan twisted until they were lying on the bed, Kate beneath him. The silky dress she was wearing caught on his rough fingers, but she didn’t protest, even when he cupped her breast.

He thrust his tongue deep inside her mouth, forgetting everything but the exploding heat, low in his gut.

“Mmm.”

Kate moaned.

Except for dreams about Dylan, she’d never felt anything like the heat streaming through her blood, the tingles sparking deep in her core. She ought to push him away, but she’d waited too long to be held by the man she loved.

So many dreams, waiting to be realized…

Yet all at once she squirmed, realizing this was
nothing
like her dreams. The tense, grabby sensation in her lower abdomen almost hurt, she felt so empty, so needy.

Dylan’s thumb rubbed across her nipple, rough and gentle at the same time. She’d changed from her wedding dress into a silk caftan back at Pegeen O’Rourke’s house, and the thin, slippery fabric seemed to intensify the hard strength of his touch.

It was like being swept under a tidal wave. Part of her was alarmed, but the part that had waited so long to be held by the man she loved simply let go. Yet enough of her brain was still operating to start rationalizing.

She shouldn’t say anything, because it would remind him he was kissing Katydid, not some anonymous woman.

No.

She wasn’t anonymous, she wanted him to love
her,
with all his heart and soul.

Still, she’d waited forever to be kissed like this by Dylan. She should just enjoy the moment and let fate take its own path. Unless it would make things more difficult, instead of better, when it came to him falling in love with her.

Dylan,
Kate’s mind whispered, trying to decide.

He gathered the skirt of her caftan, dragging it up her thigh, and the conflicting mental arguments vanished. Even his skill at shimmying the dress upward didn’t distract her, she wanted to be naked even more than she wanted to think about the women he’d held in the past.

He paused at her hip, his finger tracing the narrow band of her silk panties. The grabby sensation below her tummy became impossibly worse, particularly when he massaged the exact spot with his knowing hand.

Her spirits rose, hope welling up in her. Surely this meant that Dylan cared, he seemed so intent on pleasing her.

“Soft,” he breathed, as if talking to himself. “I’ve never felt anything so damned soft.”

She threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged him down for another drugging kiss. She loved the taste of him, the endless heat and intoxication.

She’d kissed other men, of course.

After college she’d tried to convince herself that Dylan wasn’t the only man on earth, that she was being childish to think he’d fall in love with her after such a long time. So she’d gone out with a number of guys. Problem was, none of them came close to Dylan. She still dated on a casual basis, keeping things light and uncomplicated.

That is…she’d dated until proposing to Dylan.

It was all or nothing now. The culmination of her hopes and dreams, or the worse crash and burn of her life.

All because she’d lied.

Kate’s mind instantly shied away from her remorse over deceiving the man she loved.

Concentrate,
she ordered.

Dylan cooperated by pressing nibbling kisses down her throat, then teasing her breasts with his hot breath and tickling fingers. Just when the top of her head was ready to blow off from frustration and need, he opened his mouth and drew an aching nipple inside, silk and all.

A startled cry escaped Kate’s throat and she arched upward. Moisture and heat instantly soaked through the thin fabric. It was erotic, feeling so much without actually being exposed.

Dylan thought he’d go insane if he didn’t have Kate soon. He actually had his hand on the belt of his robe, untying it, before he froze.

Have
Kate?

This was
Kate.

He’d been caressing Kate’s breast and kissing her like a crazed, sex-deprived man found living on a desert island.

Little Katydid, who trusted him.