Just Between Friends (O'Rourke Family 4) (6 page)

All at once he levered himself from the bed and stared down at her. She looked stunned, and he dragged a breath into his lungs, unable to resist letting his gaze sweep over her slim form. He’d pulled the hem of her dress to her waist, revealing slender legs and gently tapered hips. Her breasts were still covered, but he had no doubt they were just as tantalizing as the rest of her body.

He was appalled.

Sex wasn’t why he’d agreed to that wretched ceremony, it was to keep Kate from having to sleep with a man she didn’t love in order to get her inheritance.

His hands shook with suppressed emotion as he made sure his robe covered the blatant expression of his desire.

“Kate—”

“Dylan—”

They both spoke at once, and both stopped to let the other have their say. The formal bit of courtesy nearly made him laugh. Right. They were courteous. He’d stomped all over the honor his father and eldest brother had taught him, and now he was being polite. Wasn’t that swell of him? He rolled his eyes, more disgusted than ever with himself.

“You go first,” Kate said.

She sat up, and in the same smooth motion swept her dress down over her legs. He wasn’t sure, but a faint pink seemed to be brightening her cheeks, as if she was self-conscious about being exposed like that.

They were friends, but he’d never even seen her in a swimsuit, much less a pair of skimpy panties. A tube top and shorts were the limit, and even then he’d carefully kept his gaze on her face, instead of her feminine curves. He’d never liked being reminded of how much she’d grown up since those early days when she’d seemed to idolize him.

“I’m sorry. More than I can say. You should have slugged me. God, I can’t believe what I just did. It was inexcusable.” His jaw clenched.

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Right. I came in to comfort you, then took advantage. I’m a real prince.”

She pushed her hair away from her face, looking uncertain. “Please don’t be angry,” she whispered.

“I’m angry with myself, not you, Katydid.”

“But I don’t want you to be angry at all.”

Dylan sighed. He didn’t know why Kate had singled him out when they were kids, but she had, and he’d be damned before he messed up what feelings she had left for him. Maybe that explained why he’d ultimately said yes to her idea of them getting married for a year—it still made him feel special, knowing how much she trusted him.

“Dylan? Please say something.”

“I’m just so sorry,” he said. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

If anything, his second attempt to apologize seemed to make things worse. She attempted a smile, but he recognized that false cheer and knew she was only trying to make him feel better. She only smiled like that when things were so awful she didn’t want anyone to know.

“That’s all right.” Kate smiled again, unintentionally heaping hot coals on his heart. “I don’t mind. In fact, I really…” She stopped and shrugged, apparently changing her mind about what she’d planned to say.

“Yeah, well, I’d better get to work on that building proposal.”

Kate watched Dylan disappear and thought her heart was tearing right in half.

It hurt more than she could have imagined knowing he regretted touching her. But what else had she expected? It was too soon for them to kiss like that, much
less make love. Of course, if she’d been the one to put an end to their kiss, he would have still torn himself apart over that blessed O’Rourke code of honor. She ought to be grateful for his code, but right now she was too frustrated.

Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks, coming from a deep, painful place within. She couldn’t go back, only forward, but she was more uncertain now than ever before. Even if Dylan fell in love with her, would it just mean more of the same? Another person she loved who was remote and barely a real part of her life?

The answers weren’t available, and Kate finally curled up, holding the memory of Dylan’s caresses like a talisman. She’d have to pretend everything was fine in the morning. The last thing she wanted was for him to be uncomfortable.

The clock went off at the usual time, and Dylan slapped it with a muttered groan. He crawled out of bed, every part of his body protesting the effort, and gazed blearily around. But it wasn’t his apartment, piled high with blueprints and building plans, it was the spare bedroom in Kate’s carriage house.

If only he’d gotten more than five minutes of sleep the night before. But sleep had been impossible.

He was married.

Not a real marriage, but a marriage on paper. And then he’d gone and kissed Kate and practically made love to her. No wonder he’d tossed and turned for hours, trying to decide if she’d actually kissed him back, or if she’d been so shocked and disappointed in his behavior she hadn’t known how to react. Maybe she’d even
been afraid of him. His stomach lurched at the thought. He wouldn’t hurt Kate; that would violate every law of decency he believed in.

“Dammit,” he muttered after another glance at the clock. He was due on one of his company’s job sites in less than an hour. His men knew he’d planned to get married over the weekend, so they’d roast him if he turned up late after his so-called wedding night.

Dressing quickly, he stepped out of the bedroom, expecting Kate to be asleep.

“Good morning,” a cheerful voice sang out.

Dylan stopped cold.

Kate was in the kitchen, barefoot and clad in a skimpy silk nightshirt that reached no lower than her mid thighs and drifted distractingly around her body.

“How’d you sleep?” she asked, not seeming to notice his silence. “I hope the mattress is okay in there. I’ll get another one if you’d be more comfortable.”

“I slept…fine,” he lied. She looked sleepily at ease, and the contrast between her sad face of the evening before and her mood now was astonishing. “You?”

“Great.” Kate wiped a smear of jam from her fingers. Apparently she’d been making a stack of peanut butter toast. “Want some?” she asked, holding out the plate.

He silently took a slice and bit down. The hearty bread was crisply toasted the way he liked it and topped with his favorite apricot jam. Without saying anything else she handed him a large mug of coffee, brewed black and strong, then sat at the table, yawning delicately. He didn’t know what he’d expected after what happened in her bedroom, but quiet comfort was
not
one of the possibilities he’d imagined.

“I wasn’t sure if you took a lunch to work, but I put one together in case you wanted it,” she said after a few minutes, waving toward his battered cooler. He’d moved his belongings from his apartment and into the carriage house on Saturday to keep up the appearance of them having a normal marriage.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Kate put a hand to her mouth and yawned again. “No big deal.”

“Well, thanks.”

Dylan let out a breath, his tension draining away. Kate had a big heart. She must have forgiven him for the way he’d acted. And whatever had upset her in the first place, she seemed to have worked it out of her system. As for the lunch, it was probably some of the fussy food stuff that women liked, but he could always order pizza.

Several hours later, when Dylan’s stomach rumbled, he eyed the cooler and wondered if there was any point in exploring the contents. It was heavy, but it probably contained bottles of that yuppie sparkling water Kate liked so much. He made a face, then shrugged. The pizza joint that he usually called guaranteed delivery in fifteen minutes.

“Hey, lunchtime, boss,” called one of the men. “Time to see what the little lady made for ya. Gotta eat it, you know, or their feelings get hurt.”

Damnation. Dylan wished he hadn’t said anything about Kate making him lunch, but it had helped deflect some of their more annoying jokes about his brief honeymoon.

His men stood around, watching expectantly as he
opened the battered plastic cooler. His eyebrows shot upward as he pulled out a hearty hoagie roll thickly loaded with roast beef, ham and Swiss cheese. There were two more of the sandwiches inside, along with cookies and chips and barrel-sized pickles.

His foreman whistled.

“Lordy, lordy, it took my wife two years to stop making me finger sandwiches and carrot curls with little toothpicks in ’em. How’d you get so lucky?”

Dylan grunted something unintelligible and took a bite. It was awful nice of Kate to go to so much trouble. She didn’t eat much meat, but she’d made sure he had the food he liked.

Maybe the next year wouldn’t be so bad. He’d just have to keep things cool and calm. As long as he kept his hands off Kate, everything would work out fine.

“H
i, guys,” cried one of Dylan’s sisters from the front porch.

“That’s Miranda, isn’t it?” Kate asked him in a whisper. Two of his sisters looked so much alike it was still hard for her to tell one from the other, particularly at a distance.

“Yup. She’s the interior designer.”

“Right.” Miranda consulted with Dylan on some of his construction projects.

Kate waved back at her new sister-in-law, feeling strangely nervous about coming face-to-face with the O’Rourkes again. Everything had been so rushed getting ready for the wedding, she hadn’t had time to think about anything else. Now she felt responsible for Dylan being in a position he hated…lying to his family.

Miranda called inside the house. “Heads up, everyone, the newlyweds are here.”

Within a few seconds various O’Rourkes poured from Pegeen’s front door, hugging and kissing and dragging them both inside the house. In her own family, she and Dylan would have been politely announced by the butler and her mother would have lifted her cheek for a cool kiss.

She preferred the O’Rourke way.

“Happy one-week anniversary,” Beth said, radiant as she nursed her new baby.

“That’s right. Surprised you’re here, bro,” commented Kane, giving his wife and infant daughter a tender glance. “Thought you’d be having a candlelight dinner, or something else appropriate.”

Dylan froze.

Oh, dear.
Kate winced. He had that glazed, deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression on his face.
She’d
remembered their one-week anniversary, but hadn’t dared bring it up; the happy little milestones that meant so much to most new brides were off-limits to her.

She smiled at her new family and snuggled close to her husband. It was like snuggling up to a brick wall, so she poked a surreptitious finger in his side. “We’re celebrating tonight. Dylan has a surprise planned, but he won’t tell me about it, will you, darling?”

“No,” he said flatly.

She poked him again, hoping he’d smile or do something to prevent his family from wondering if something was wrong. “I have a surprise planned, too,” she said. “But I don’t think he’s guessed what it is.”

Dylan gritted his teeth. Obviously there were pitfalls to marrying Kate that he hadn’t considered. Like anniversaries. It had never occurred to him that newlyweds
celebrated one-week anniversaries. Of course, according to his family he was notoriously unsentimental.

“You haven’t guessed,
have
you, Dylan?” Kate prodded.

He looked down into her anxious eyes. She was counting on him; they’d never get away with their plan unless everyone believed it.

He tapped her nose with the tip of his finger. “Does your surprise have anything to do with that bag from a lingerie store you brought home yesterday?” He’d intended the question to be light and teasing, instead it came out low and intimate.

For an instant she looked startled, then a faint blush spread across her cheeks. “I didn’t think you…saw it.”

“I saw. And I can’t wait for my surprise.”

The flags in her cheeks grew brighter and she ducked her head against his shirt, just like a shy little girl. She was warm and soft and smelled so nice he wanted to bury his face in her gold hair.

“You’re about to discover one of the joys of being married,” Patrick said, dragging Dylan’s attention back to reality. “I love Maddie’s trips to the lingerie store.”

“Lately it’s just been for maternity wear,” Maddie added, patting her swollen tummy. “I have a twisted husband. He still thinks I’m sexy.”

“You are,” he insisted, seeming astonished she’d think otherwise.

Sexy?

Dylan thought Patrick was nuts. There was nothing wrong with the way a pregnant woman looked, but they were hardly swimsuit models. It even seemed sacrilegious to think a pregnant lady was sexy. Then a vision
of how Kate would look if she were pregnant went through his head and he changed his mind. She’d be beautiful.

No.

With an effort he forced the vision away.

“Such serious thoughts,” Kate teased. He was probably the only one in the room who could see the worry lurking deep in her green eyes. “Promise you won’t tell anyone about your surprise for
me.
I refuse to be the last one to know.”

She’d cleverly given him an out, just in case the family tried to pry the secret of his nonexistent anniversary surprise from him, and he smiled appreciatively.

“I promise. They won’t get a word from me.”

“That’s good.” Kate put an arm around his neck and drew him down to a kiss. Their lips clung for an endless moment before she drew away. “I…umm, I should…help. With dinner,” she murmured.

Dylan wanted to drag her back, and he cursed his lack of control.
He
should have ended the kiss, not Kate.

Apparently they were the last to arrive, and everyone drifted to the kitchen, discussing the past week and arguing amicably about the Seattle Mariner’s chances of going to the World Series. That is, Dylan, his brothers and Beth argued the point, Kate and his sisters weren’t interested in baseball, though Kate had cheerfully attended live games with him in the past.

Every few minutes she flitted to his side, saying something teasing or affectionate and snuggling up to him in the most distracting way. Hell, how was he supposed to keep his distance when she was acting like a normal bride with satin sheets and candlelight on her mind?

Especially when she kept putting it into
his
mind.

With an effort, he focused on the moment when she’d gotten embarrassed and put her face on his chest. It had reminded him of when she was little, with all those sweet, shy butterfly ways that had captivated his younger self.

“How does this taste?” Kate asked, appearing in front of him again.

“What?”

“This.” She popped a cucumber slice coated with salad dressing into his mouth and waited anxiously.

It was a tasty herbal dressing and tasted fine, though he wasn’t a big salad eater. “That’s good. Did you make it?”

“Yes.” Without warning Kate threw her arms around his neck and plastered herself against him. He tasted the same tangy herbal flavor in her kiss, and as much as he wanted to push her away, his body wouldn’t cooperate.

The gold silk of her hair caught on his fingers as he cupped the back of her head, and the edges of his self-restraint eroded at the imprint of round breasts and slim hips.

“Hey, you can celebrate your anniversary later,” said a nearby voice. An instant later something icy dropped between the back of his neck and collar.

“Brat,” he yelped, jumping backward and glaring at his sister.

“What happened?” Kate asked.

“Shannon put ice down my back,” Dylan said, squirming as he tried to retrieve the offending cube.

“I’ll get it.”

As Kate pulled his shirt from his jeans he concentrated on Shannon, instead of the way his wife’s fingers spread across his skin, warming it.

His wife?

A sensation colder than ice went through his chest.

Kate wasn’t his wife, not in the real sense of the word. The only reason he’d thought of her that way was because of how she’d just kissed him, and that was only for show. Girls like Katrina Douglas didn’t marry guys like him, not for real.

“I’ll do that part,” he muttered when Kate began tucking his shirt back into his jeans. The damage she could do to his control was more than he wanted to risk.

When Kate flitted off again he drew a breath of relief. The week had been so busy he hadn’t been able to do anything about his plans for enlarging the carriage house, but he’d start tonight. Once he could shower and get through the evenings without falling over her, it would be easier.

“So, why
did
you come to Sunday dinner?” Kane asked quietly, startling him. “Naturally we’re thrilled to see you, but even if a one-week anniversary celebration seems silly to you, it probably means something to Kate. When you get married, your wife comes first.”

Dylan’s jaw tightened. He was grown now and didn’t need lectures from his big brother. “Kate
does
come first.”

“You got married a week ago, you didn’t go on a honeymoon, and you’re at the family dinner instead of spending one of your first free days together. That doesn’t sound like you’re putting her first.”

Kane was in his all-knowing-big-brother mode, an impulse no doubt strengthened by his recent entry into fatherhood. Dylan could confess the truth of his marriage, he even
wanted
to reveal the truth, but he’d kept his own counsel for so long it was impossible to change.

“We’ll celebrate tonight, but Katydid is anxious to get
to know the family better,” he said. “It means a lot to her, becoming an O’Rourke. You know what her folks are like—I’ve met marble statues warmer than the Douglases.”

“You can say that again. I just don’t want to see you two having trouble.”

“It’s a little early for that. We just got married.”

His brother gave him a speculative look, and Dylan met his gaze with a stolid one of his own. The only trouble he had with Kate was his nagging awareness of her. Their friendship would return to normal once the year was up and everything could go back to the way it used to be.

He wanted normal.

He wanted the days when she’d stop at the office and try to convince him to attend one of her blessed charity events and he could be as stubborn as he liked, only giving in occasionally so he could see her smile. Or when he’d show up with baseball tickets, and she’d go along with him to eat garlic fries. They’d never done anything special, just comfortable friendly stuff.

“I hope so,” Kane murmured. “It’s a wonder Katrina didn’t give up years ago and just marry someone else, so don’t screw things up now.”

Dylan frowned, wondering exactly what his brother meant, but when he started to ask, Pegeen sang out, “Dinner’s ready.”

At the large dining room table they sat with bowed heads as Pegeen said grace. Kate’s small hand rested in his, and for some reason Dylan’s chest ached at the feel of it.

He wanted her to be part of his life, but he’d never liked change, especially after his father’s death. And they were in the middle of something that could change them forever.

Kate sat in the truck, half drowsing as Dylan drove back into Seattle. At this time of the year it wouldn’t be dark until nearly ten, and the long rays of evening light were gold on the trees.

After a week of Dylan acting quiet and withdrawn it had been a relief to have an excuse to touch him. She’d sort of gotten carried away with the kisses and hugs, but she needed to touch him the way a bird needed to fly.

“I got pastrami and roast beef for your lunches this week,” she murmured sleepily. “Unless you want something other than sandwiches.”

“No, they’re great. Much better than I usually eat.”

“Is Swiss cheese okay? I can get cheddar tomorrow if you’d prefer.”

“Swiss is my favorite. But that reminds me, I have new checks and a credit card for you to start using.”

“You have what?” Kate sat upright, grabbing the shoulder strap of the seatbelt for leverage.

“I set up a checking account for you and ordered a credit card in your name.”

“Dylan, I have my own checking account. And credit card.”

She’d had her own credit card since she was thirteen. For a while she’d spent money like it was candy, trying to get her parents’ attention. It didn’t work. The accountant simply imposed a monthly limit—far greater than any teenager should ever have—on her account.

“For the next year you’re going to use mine.”

She glowered. It was bad enough he was insisting on doing the remodeling of the carriage house out of his
own pocket, but she wasn’t going to spend his money for everyday expenses.

“No, Dylan, I’m not.”

“Don’t argue with me, Katydid.”

“Why not? You’re being completely unreasonable.”

He pulled through the electric gates in the back of the mansion grounds and slammed to a stop. “You’re the one who wanted this thing to look real.”

Since this
thing
was her marriage and the dream of her life, she didn’t take kindly to him putting it that way. “Spending your money won’t make one bit of difference.”

“Maybe, but I’m not going to look like a man who can’t support his wife.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Nobody’s going to say that. Besides, it’s not like we’re really married.” She made a helpless gesture with her hand, both frustrated and amused. Dylan was so old-fashioned in his thinking, with a code of honor carved in stone. His pride was dead set on showing he wasn’t a fortune hunter, that he wasn’t going to get a single material advantage from their so-called marriage.

“I may not have the kind of money your family does, but I’m not broke, Katydid. The business is doing great, and I have a number of successful investments. Unless you’re planning on cleaning out Tiffany’s once a week, we’re okay.”

“I’m not big into jewelry, you know that.”

Still frustrated, Kate slid from the high seat of the truck and started up the winding road toward the carriage house. Though it was in the middle of the city, the mansion and carriage house were surrounded by old forest
growth. She liked the peace and privacy, but she’d live in a broken-down shack if Dylan was there.

A muffled curse came from behind her, then the throaty hum of the motor.

“Get in the truck, Kate,” Dylan ordered, sticking his head out of the window.

“I feel like taking a walk.” It was a lie. Her strappy sandals were terrible for walking, but she stepped to the side of the road so he could pass. Unfortunately her feet sank into the forest loam, so she wobbled and nearly fell.

“Dammit, Katydid, get back in here before you break an ankle. This is a lousy way to get out of an argument.”

“It’s a stupid argument.”

“No, it’s not.”

Kate stopped and put her hands on her hips. “I know you’re archaic in your thinking, Dylan, but in the modern world, people actually form partnerships when they get married, with women contributing to expenses.”