“How long have they been married?”
“Steve was the first of the STUDs to give up the joys of the single life, the traitor,” Deke said good-naturedly.
“I take it that the rest of the STUDs took it pretty hard.”
“Well, sure. A STUD wasn’t supposed to get married. But,” he went on, waxing philosophical, “obviously the decision was right for him.”
Dorian shot him a look from under her lashes and decided that the time had come to let him know how she felt about what he was doing to her life.
“Deke, are you, um, in the mood to talk about the R word?’ she ventured carefully.
“R word? We’ve both agreed that we want to avoid the M word, and I thought we had retired the S word. What is this, alphabet soup?”
She felt disheartened by his ready grin. “The R word stands for relationship.”
He treated her to a look that could have meant anything. “That’s a new one.”
She shook her head when he offered another slice of peach. “I had my doubts about bringing it up,” she said, sounding troubled.
“Well, now that it’s reared its ugly little R-word head, let’s get it over with,” he said in a tone that was more gruff than she would have expected.
She looked at him helplessly. “Deke, I’m having the best time with you that I’ve ever had in my life. It frightens me,” she said. She thought, There. I’ve brought it up. And now I’m more terrified than ever. She was scared that he would laugh at her, or worse yet, ignore her. She was scared that she would lose him.
He tossed the peach pit into a garbage container and went to the sink to wash his hands. She listened to the water running and waited for him to say something, anything.
When he turned around, his expression was blank. “Sounds like you think I’m a threat.”
“Oh, Deke, not a threat. A complication.”
“I’ve been called worse.” He sounded dangerously calm.
“I owe everything to you, Deke. I won’t forget that,” she said quietly, looking down at her hands.
“I thought I told you that you got the Dr. Feelgood job on your own.”
“It’s not only the job. It’s the car, which you bought for me. It’s the apartment, which you found for me. It’s Lou, who appeared at my door, courtesy of your largess. It’s flying away with you in balloons—”
“—and getting dumped in the creek,” he interjected.
“—and being spirited away to our own private version of the Casbah. I’m getting to like this fantasy life too much. I feel as if I’m in danger of thinking that this is the way life really is, and we both know it’s not. And Deke, when I look at my life as it is now, everything seems to have been provided by you. Not me. For the first time in my adult life I’m dependent on a man, and it feels too comfortable,” she said unhappily. She knew this was a lot for him to take in all at once.
He shook his head as if to clear it. “I thought this little chat was supposed to be about our relationship.”
“Well, this is all part of it.”
“I may be a fool for doing this, but let me tell you what our relationship means to me,” he said, towering over her. “It means someone to share my thoughts, someone to hold in the long, dark hours of the night, someone to call when I’m feeling down. It means you, Dorian. Now, tell me—what does our relationship mean to you?”
She began to wish she’d never raised the subject. “The same,” she said thoughtfully. “Our relationship is wonderful. It’s what goes along with it that worries me.”
His expression softened. He took a deep breath. “Can’t you enjoy what we have together? Can’t you take what I want to give?”
She shook her head. “You give too much,” she said slowly. “You’re the most generous man alive, so different from—”
He stepped closer and tipped a finger under her chin. “Different from whom?” he said, looking deep into her eyes.
“A man in my life who was too controlling,” she said.
“You never mentioned another man. I didn’t think you’d ever had a serious relationship with a man in your life,” he said, his tone slightly bewildered.
“But I have.”
“Who?” he asked.
She wanted him to put his arms around her and kiss away the hurt. At that moment, she wanted him to take care of her for the rest of her life, even though she knew she couldn’t let him do that and still maintain her own integrity.
“Who was it, Dorrie?”
“My father,” she said.
Chapter Twelve
Deke did a double take.
“Is that why you’ve never talked about him?”
“More or less,” she said. “Mostly I don’t like to think about my childhood.”
He moved closer. “Will you tell me about it?”
She shrugged. “Can we go in the living room?”
“Of course,” he told her, leading the way.
They sat on the couch, looking out over the Atlanta skyline. Dorian inhaled a deep breath, and the words came out in a rush. “Dad was a very controlling man. Mother died when I was a child, and after she was gone I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without clearing every detail with him first. He made me beg for every penny I needed, which was humiliating, and it was because he chose my college major that I earned my degree in business instead of drama as I would have preferred,” she admitted.
“But you’re an actress now,” he said, taking her hand in his. She didn’t withdraw it.
“I was an actress even then,” she said, her eyes meeting his for the first time since they’d sat down. “I honed my acting skills on my father. You can’t imagine the difficulty of pretending as if everything was okay when it wasn’t. I wore myself out acting like the good little girl, obedient and nice, that he insisted that I must be.”
“So when you decided to become an actress after all, I suppose there was a big blowup,” he said.
“Oh, you’d better believe it. Dad was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to support myself, that he’d have to give me money all the rest of my life, and he couldn’t understand why I’d leave a perfectly good job selling milking machines for all the uncertainties of an acting career. I tried to explain that I want to be free to pursue what makes me happy, but he absolutely refused to understand.”
“Hadn’t he ever seen you on stage? Didn’t he know what a good actress you are?”
“He saw me in high school plays, of course, and tolerated it because it was an acceptable extracurricular activity. He never saw me onstage when I was finally a working professional. By that time he had washed his hands of me. When he died a couple of years ago, we were still estranged,” she said, not without bitterness.
They sat for a while in the darkness, listening to a clock ticking.
“Okay, I understand why you never mentioned your father, but what does this have to do with you and me?” he asked.
“More than you think,” she said uneasily.
“Explain.”
“Dad’s legacy was that I never want to be controlled again. By anyone, ever. And I need to prove myself, to be able to say that I got where I am on my own talent, not because of something someone else did for me.”
“Ahh, I see. To you a man equals someone who will call all the shots, is that right?”
“Exactly.”
“Thus you need space, as you’ve always told me. And you feel uncomfortable giving in to me.”
“Yes,” she said.
“Don’t you know I only want the best for you? Can’t you see that giving to you is a pleasure for me?”
“I’m uncomfortable taking anything from you, that’s all, and it makes it worse when you find ways to get around me, the way you did with the car, with Lou and my apartment,” she said. Her eyes pleaded with him, and he tried to understand why control was such a big issue with her. She looked very beautiful, so beautiful that his heart felt as if it would burst with love for her.
It was in that
moment that he realized what Dorian meant to him. He was stunned by the force with which it hit him; he was staggered by its import. He had fallen in love with Dorian Carr, and the knowledge all but bowled him over.
He had never stayed interested in one woman long enough to fall in love; he usually got bored or impatient with her demands and took what he liked to think of as “corrective measures.” Furthermore, it had never occurred to Deke that he was actually capable of loving a woman. He could make love to them, and he could sweep them off their feet, he could chase after them for all he was worth, but he had never felt the profound emotion of loving one before. He had no idea how his love for Dorian would impact his life or what, really, to do about it.
Well. This was a shocker. But so far it was a nice one. It would be okay. He and Dorian were kindred spirits, with the same goals. They liked spontaneity; they had never been bored with each other. He would back off, let her know that he wasn’t trying to run her life. If he did that, he assumed that they could go on as they were. Together, and happy, and giving each other lots of room, because that was all she was asking from him. It was a simple enough thing to give, wasn’t it?
“Oh, Dorian,” he said as she came into his arms, and all he wanted to do was hold her until the end of time.
Actually, he held her only until the phone rang; Larissa was calling with questions about the housewarming. And after that, Dorian pleaded exhaustion, both from a long day spent posing for print ads and because she had to get up early in the morning to pose for more.
It was the first time in a long time that they hadn’t ended an evening together by making love, but what was making love, Deke figured, compared to the reality of falling in love.
He would have liked to talk to someone about these new and strange feelings, because he had never really fallen in love before. But he had no one to talk to. Larissa would chortle with glee at the idea of Deke’s being in love, and she would immediately start talking about engagement rings. And Bob—well, he was out. He and Deke never touched on personal matters.
The only people with whom Deke was close enough to discuss things close to the heart were the other STUDs. With them, Deke had always found it easy to bare his innermost thoughts.
But he couldn’t possibly talk to Steve or Tripp or Ki. They’d probably laugh themselves silly. He, after all, had been designated The World’s Last Bachelor. He’d pledged never to abandon their youthful ideal of being STUDs forever. He was the only one left to carry the standard, to fight the good fight, to prove as a matter of honor that he, Deke Washburn, was a real STUD, a true STUD, the only STUD left.
Which meant that he certainly couldn’t admit to anyone, including Dorian, that he had fallen head over heels in love.
* * *
DEKE WAS IN HIS ELEMENT at the housewarming party Larissa threw for him. He loved having people around, especially people he liked. Especially when it meant that he could show Dorian off. He introduced her proudly to his friends and watched them as they were charmed by her. The evening was half over before Larissa managed to corner him in the hall.
“Your penthouse is now properly warmed,” she said proprietarily. “I expect you’ll start entertaining now, as a proper young bachelor should.”
What Larissa didn’t know, Deke reflected, was that on certain occasions his penthouse had been more than warm; he and Dorian managed to keep it hot. “I’ll entertain some,” he allowed, thinking of Dorian.
Being as sharp as she was, Larissa made it clear that she was not fooled.
“I like your Dorian,” she said. “When are you getting married?”
“Married?” Deke’s mouth suddenly went dry.
“Yes, my dear brother-in-law. That’s the ceremony with a bride and groom.”
“You’re awfully outspoken, Larissa, don’t you think?” Deke said brightly, casting about for a way to extricate himself from this conversation. Larissa tended to get tiresome at times.
“Maybe I do speak my mind too often, but as soon as I saw the way you look at her, I knew. You’re more than passingly fond of Dorian. Don’t think I don’t see it,” Larissa said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Oops,” she said suddenly, “Lou looks like a thundercloud. I’d better go see what’s wrong,” and she bustled away.
Deke heaved a sigh of relief and looked around for Dorian. She was drifting through the crowd, stopping occasionally to laugh that silvery laugh of hers. She looked stunning tonight with her gleaming hair sleeked back into a twist and wearing a black crepe-and-lace slip dress with a provocative décolletage.
He made his way toward her. Dorian was talking animatedly with Charles Lurie, the man he’d punched in the nose at the dinner theater. She’d mentioned wistfully that she was looking forward to seeing some of her old friends, and that was why Deke had made sure their names were on the guest list.
She turned to greet him, the enchanting music of her laughter blending with the tinkle of her earrings, and he slid an arm around her shoulders. She likewise put her arm around his waist. It occurred to him that his putting an arm around her shoulders was one thing, but her putting an arm around his waist was another. He liked people to know that she was his woman—but he felt uncomfortable about being seen as her man. Odd, but true. He took his arm away, and so did she. Why was he feeling so conflicted, so confused? He saw Larissa watching them and looked away, afraid that she might read something into his perplexity.
Dorian smiled up at him, confident of his interest. Adorable Dorian, so charming. So delightful. The woman of his dreams.
“I was just asking Charles what he’s been up to since we were both fired from the dinner theater, and he’s lined up a part in an off-Broadway play. What’s it called, Charles?”
“Rancho Elegante,” Charles said, rolling the syllables dramatically off his tongue. “It’s another mystery piece, but without the dinner theater. It’s about intrigue at a health spa. There’s a part for a beautiful blonde with a comedic bent, and the woman they cast quit for some unknown reason, plus the understudy recently learned that she’s pregnant, which apparently precludes running around onstage in a leotard.”
“I’ll have my agent check on it,” Dorian said.
Deke felt out of his element with these two when they talked shop. He sipped his drink and tried to figure out a way to get Dorian to himself.
“Didn’t you tell me that, Deke?” Dorian asked, looking to him for an answer, and he realized that he hadn’t been paying attention.
“Mmm-hmm,” he said, which appeared to be an appropriate answer, and she turned back to Charles.
He saw several people looking at her; she was the center of attention wherever they went. He had to share her more and more these days. No matter where they were, Dorian would be pestered by people who had seen her popular commercials and wanted her autograph. Or he’d stop by her apartment and she’d be on the phone with her agent, who was forever presenting offers for her consideration. This week alone, Dorian had been offered a disease-of-the-month promo, a cat food ad, and the chance to be the glamorous number-spinner on a game show. To her credit, she’d turned all of them down flat.
“I don’t want to get stuck doing commercials for the rest of my life. And I’ll never get to Broadway by being a number-spinner, either,” Dorian had said. Still, Deke had detected Dorian’s doubts about what she would be doing next. He wondered about that, too. He hoped her work wouldn’t take her away from him.
Being together was good. But what if everyone else in this room thought the way Larissa did—that he and Dorian should get married?
He would have to be blind not to notice the speculative glances being cast in their direction even now as he and Dorian continued to talk with Charles. He could almost hear Mrs. Plimsoll, who ran the general store up in Mabry, asking Ebenezer Ayres if he thought a wedding was in the works. He could imagine Ebenezer jawing with his cronies in front of the minuscule Mabry post office about whether or not the boy wonder of Rabun County would marry the gal w
ho starred in those funny TV commercials.
Married. Stodgy. Like Larissa and Bill. Like Mrs. Plimsoll and her husband. Like Ebenezer Ayres and the meek little woman he had married forty years ago, before Deke was even born. The thought of being like them sent chills down Deke’s spine, making him want reassurance that nothing like that was going to happen to him. He and Dorian mostly talked about not marrying, about not getting so carried away by romance that marriage became one of the options.
And every time they made love it was warm and exciting and a big thrill, and that’s the way Deke wanted it to stay. To his mind, marriage denoted being settled and dull and never having any fun. If marriage were a color, Deke had always thought, it would have been a kind of dingy gray.
Now, watching Dorian talking so animatedly with Charles, Deke suddenly longed for proof that their relationship was still exciting, still new. He thought about making love with her, how extraordinary it always was, how pas-sionate and full of zest. He found himself aching for her, wanting her deep in the marrow of his bones, and seething with impatience to get her to himself. And it would be hours before everyone cleared out of here.
He waited for a break in the conversation before whispering urgently in Dorian’s ear that she should follow him out of the room. She looked momentarily confused, the eyebrows above her darkly luminous eyes arcing upward like a bird’s wings.
“Come on,” he urged again when Charles was momentarily distracted by a waiter bearing a tray of drinks. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Now?” she whispered back incredulously.
“Now,” he said, tugging her by the hand until she followed him mutely into a butler’s pantry and through it into the kitchen.
“Don’t you go sticking your hands in my refrigerator,” Lou warned testily when she saw them tiptoeing guiltily toward the door opening onto the service hallway.
“Don’t worry, Lou,” Deke called back over his shoulder as he and Dorian escaped. “If I’m going to stick my hands anywhere, it wouldn’t be in your refrigerator.”
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