Just Between Friends

A chorus of agreement followed, making Dylan glare. They didn’t know the half of it. And what did Neil know about it anyway? Or Kane and Patrick? They were besotted over their wives. He’d never seen more billing and cooing in his life than when the three couples were together at family gatherings.

Now he was supposedly joining the ranks of happily-in-love-and-delighted-to-be-married.

With an effort Dylan unclenched his jaw. His sisters-in-law were a charming trio of women, but ever since he’d announced his engagement to Kate, things had gotten completely out of control. You would have thought he planned to have the ceremony in an alligator-infested swamp rather than a courthouse.

What was wrong with a courthouse? A simple civil ceremony, no witnesses required—it was the best way to get married, especially when you didn’t really plan to be married. But that was the problem—he couldn’t admit any such thing.

“I suppose everyone thinks I’m going to be next,” said Connor with a grim look on his face. He was the youngest of the brothers, twenty-seven, and even more determinedly single than the rest of them. That is, the way the rest of them used to be.

Just wait a year, little brother, Dylan advised silently. I’ll be rejoining the bachelor ranks.

Well, it might be over a year.

He’d been thinking that it wouldn’t look good to the lawyers if he dumped Kate on her cute rear end after twelve months. They should go a while longer so it wouldn’t seem quite so much as if she’d gotten married just for her grandmother’s house. It might not make any difference legally, but he didn’t want Kate to be embarrassed. There’d been so much hysteria over putting the wedding together that he hadn’t had time to tell her.

A knock came at the door. “Is everyone decent in there? And fully clothed?” called their mother’s voice.

Everyone except Connor chuckled. It was an old joke, going back to the time when the preacher had come to visit on a hot Sunday afternoon and six-year-old Connor had streaked through the house, bare-butt naked. When Pegeen had scolded her son, he’d looked at her earnestly and said he was decent because he’d just been to church, but that it was so much cooler without clothing.

“I wish everyone would just forget about that,” Connor grumbled. Being the youngest son wasn’t easy, but it was an old complaint and lacked any heat.

Patrick reached out to open the door, a smile still on his face. “Decent and clothed,” he said.

“All right, then. Now all of you go on downstairs, I want to talk with Dylan.” Her Irish brogue was stronger than usual, the way it always was when she was feeling emotional.

Dylan watched his brothers and two closest cousins file good-naturedly from the room. He knew his mother had spoken privately with Kane, Patrick and Neil before their weddings, and he’d been dreading the moment; lying didn’t come easily, particularly to someone he loved.

Pegeen hesitated, then sighed softly. “Your father always wanted to be here, talkin’ to you before you got married. But then, I think you know what he’d say, don’t you?”

“I know.”

Keenan O’Rourke had taught his sons simple lessons about honor and fidelity and about what being a man meant; lessons that were part of the everyday fabric of living and not just for special occasions. So, yes, Dylan knew what his father would say. The words weren’t necessary.

“It’s a fine thing to make your own way in the world,” Pegeen murmured. “And you’re a fine man. But pay heed to what your heart tells you, son. ’Tis the one thing you’ve forgotten how to do.”

A frown creased Dylan’s forehead, but his mother continued before he could say anything.

“Only I shan’t worry overmuch,” she said. “Your Katydid is a darling child. She’ll help you to listen to your heart, as well as your head.”

“She’s a child, all right,” Dylan agreed without thinking, then winced. He hardly sounded like an adoring groom. “That is, she’s still so young.”

A smile curved his mother’s lips, reminding him of a cat with cream on its whiskers. “You’ve never wanted to see her as grown up, but she’s old enough to know what she wants. Katrina has a woman’s needs. I don’t think she’ll be lettin’ you forget that.”

He got a peculiar feeling, rather like the ground was moving beneath him in an earthquake. The whole conversation was making him uneasy—much like his recent discussions with Kate. She was honest and straightforward about everything, and yet he kept sensing currents of unspoken emotions. He supposed it was natural, she’d once had dreams of love and happily-ever-after, and here she was, forced to get married because of her battle-ax of a grandmother. Or rather, because of the battle-ax’s last will and testament.

He’d had his own lawyer look at the will, and Jane Douglas had indeed tied up her estate in language as stern and unbreakable as she’d once been herself.

The stubborn old bat.

“Is it time to go downstairs?” he asked gruffly.

“I’ll send one of the boys up when Kate is ready,” Pegeen assured. She kissed him, then paused at the door.

“ ’Tis bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”

Dylan closed his eyes and restrained his groan. What would his mother say about “luck” when he ended up with a divorce in a little over a year? He couldn’t tell anyone it was really like an annulment since they wouldn’t be intimate. One thing was clear from the will, it had to appear to be a real marriage, even if it wasn’t.

Maybe they could just say they’d mistaken friendship for love and had decided to end things before they made each other miserable. It sounded okay but Dylan still didn’t feel right about it.

Lord, Katydid had gotten him into some messes before, but this one was a doozy.

The strains of the wedding march spilled through the garden and Kate held her breath. Her heart was pounding so hard she was shaking from her white satin shoes to the miniature roses pinned in her hair.

She knew Dylan wasn’t happy about how the quiet courthouse ceremony had become a romantic garden affair, but it was the wedding she’d always dreamed of having. And, since she expected it to be her one and only wedding, it was fine with her, even if he was upset about it.

“Ready?” asked Kane O’Rourke. He smiled and extended his arm. “I’m sorry your parents couldn’t be here, but I’m honored to fill in as ‘father of the bride.’”

“I’m the one who’s honored,” Kate said sincerely, yet a stab of guilt went through her. She hadn’t wanted to hear her parents disparage Dylan, so she’d waited until the last minute before calling them in London to say she was getting married. Her father had missed so many of the important events in her life, it never occurred to her that he’d be disappointed not to walk her down the aisle.

It had never occurred to her that they’d want to come at all.

She searched Kane’s face, wondering if he disapproved of the hasty way his brother was getting married. If he did, he hadn’t said so. The O’Rourkes had been so supportive it made her want to cry. Was love supposed to be this difficult?

“It’s time to go,” he said. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” But they hadn’t taken three steps before her feet faltered. “You know how much I love Dylan, don’t you?”

“I think the whole family knows that.”

Everyone except Dylan, Kate thought to herself. She forced herself to breathe. “I’ll do everything possible to make him happy,” she said.

“Well, if my little brother gives you trouble, you’ve got my number. It’s about time he woke up when it comes to you.”

She blinked and walked out of the house with Kane, at the same time thinking about what he’d said.

It’s about time he woke up when it comes to you…

Did Kane know that Dylan wasn’t in love with her? Maybe he thought Dylan really was in love, but hadn’t realized it yet. Or Kane might be deluding himself, just wanting to believe his brother had fallen in love.

Maybe…she dragged her racing thoughts under control. Maybe it didn’t mean anything.

It was a lovely day, unusually warm for May in the Seattle area, and the yard was filled with flowers, both growing and arranged in baskets set in every available space. Kate might have wanted a romantic wedding, but she’d tried to support Dylan’s plans for a courthouse ceremony. As a result his mother and the rest of the family had taken over. The place was beautiful. The photographer Pegeen had hired would be pleased.

Dylan waited for her in front of a rose-covered arbor, banked in ferns. His face was impassive, almost cold, and she shivered. The idea that she might be making a huge mistake was foremost in her mind. But Dylan wasn’t cold like her father, he was a decent, wonderful man, even if he did look as remote as an Alaskan glacier at the moment.

Just then he smiled and her heart melted. For once in her life she was going to take the risk of getting what she really wanted, and she’d deal with the doubts later.

“Hey, there, Katydid,” he murmured, holding out his hand.

She wasn’t wearing gloves and the hard calluses on Dylan’s fingers against her softer skin sent sensual images through her mind. What would it be like to have those same calloused fingers caressing her body? Would she ever find out?

Warmth crept up Kate’s face, and she hastily focused her attention on the judge’s face. One thing Dylan had succeeded on having was a civil, rather than religious, ceremony. She’d tried not to let it hurt, knowing Dylan saw the whole thing as just a favor to her, but she would have liked having Pegeen’s pastor do the wedding.

The judge said a few words about the sanctity of marriage and Dylan stiffened. Her tummy, already swooping with nerves, took a plunge that rivaled the highest roller coaster drop in the world. How would she get him to look at her in a whole new way if he was so against it in the first place? It wasn’t a new thought, it just seemed more of a problem now that they were actually getting married.

“Do you, Dylan James O’Rourke, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” asked the judge.

“I do,” he replied.

“Do you, Katrina Cecelia Douglas, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” asked the judge.

“I…do.”

Her slight hesitation earned a quick glance from Dylan, who had been staring at the hedge. One of his eyebrows lifted. He wouldn’t back down now, not having promised to help her, but he undoubtedly hoped that she’d decided she couldn’t go through with it. The judge, a friend of the O’Rourkes, continued smoothly, seeming unaware of the undercurrents between bride and groom.

Dylan looked positively fierce when he had to repeat the vow to “love, honor and cherish.” Luckily the moment passed before anyone noticed, and she was making the same promise.

The wedding band slid over Kate’s third finger, sending another pang of regret through her. Dylan wouldn’t be wearing a ring himself, he’d told the family it wouldn’t be safe with him working with construction equipment. She was the only one who knew it was just an excuse, one more reminder of their temporary arrangement.

When the judge said it was time for them to kiss, Kate’s lungs refused to function. How often had she dreamed of kissing Dylan, only to wake up and find it wasn’t real? Friendly hugs and busses on the cheek weren’t the same as the way a man embraces a woman.

Dylan put his hands on her shoulders and drew her close. Their gazes locked, then he looked down and focused on her mouth. Could he see the pulse jumping in her throat, the heat blooming across her skin, just because he was close?

Dylan, Kate cried silently. She’d give him anything he wanted, if she just knew what it was.

Very gently, he pressed a polite kiss to her mouth and ice condensed around her stomach. She couldn’t bear the thought of him drawing back, still so cool and remote, and she opened her mouth to protest.

This is our wedding, please…

Dylan felt Kate’s rush of breath and without conscious thought pulled her against him. She was clean and fresh, and he deepened the kiss, forgetting that she was the kid he’d always taken care of.

Sweet…she tasted so sweet.

He thrust his tongue between her teeth, trying to capture the elusive flavor, his senses infused with her fragrant warmth. He hadn’t held anything so soft in longer than he could remember, and his blood burned hot and heavy in his groin. She arched against him, her breasts seeming to plump into his chest. A ringing sound filled his ears.

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