Track FOUR

All eyes subconsciously, slid in Dean's direction and with a slow smile, he prompted, "Let's hear it."

"Believe it or not, I don't have it memorized," Shelby explained disdainfully.

Dean winked. "That is hard to believe."

Shelby's face turned almost purple with embarrassment. Easily, Kaye intervened, "Whether you do or not, one thing is for sure."

"What?"

"You do know exactly where it is, so go get it."

Shelby glared at her longtime friend the entire way out of the room and was gone and back in less than two minutes.

With the amazed and amused expressions that greeted her quick return, Shelby informed, "Don't think that I have it lying by my bed. I just have a place for everything."

"And everything in its place." Josh completed for her.

Shelby nodded, "Exactly." While unfolding the piece of lined notebook paper, she requested, "Now remember I was only a senior."

"Yeah, yeah, just read it," Jared pressured.

Clearing her throat, Shelby obliged:

Next with us on our trip was a singer in a group; his style and cute looks could knock you for a loop!

He traveled on a tour bus decorated blue, with pictures of Native Americans riding through the dew.

His sandy-blonde hair usually parted to the side, underneath a baseball cap often seemed to hide.

"Not in a while," David tauntingly interrupted, to which Dean responded with an unmistakable bit of sign language before Shelby continued:

Wearing ripped blue jeans, a black jacket, and tee shirt, it seemed to me his one, and only goal was to flirt.

With simply a wink of his eye and a flash of his smile;

"You knew in a moment he must be Saint Nick?" Brennan supplied inquisitively.

With narrowed eyes and a pointing finger, Shelby admonished, "Watch it sister." Brennan stifled a laugh and listened to the remainder of Shelby's work.

His many fans would run to him, mile after mile!

A pair of black Adidas had his outfit complete; his considerate and outgoing attitude made him a treat.

Around his family and friends, he was always "Tough Enough," because his love for them was strong and had "The Right Touch"!

Prejudice people and drugs were issues against which he would fight; he believed everyone deserved a fair chance, whether their skin was black or white.

The group he sings with has millions of different fans, from a variety of states, not to mention many lands.

For entertainment on the bus, along with him he brought many different books to keep his mind deep in thought.

Not forgetting a large supply of game cartridges for Nintendo, and a videotape of his group in concert, so we too could see the show!

His words were always filled with kindness and a thrilling kind of joy. He wouldn't hurt anyone; he knew emotions weren't a toy!

His imagination and attitude had us all quite intrigued; every one of us awaiting his story that we might heed!

Shelby looked up slowly—very slowly. All eyes were on her and each expression ranged from humor to amazement.

"That may be the funniest thing I've ever heard," Jared managed before bursting into laughter.

"You're just jealous because it wasn't about you," Dean stated. Then, with just the slightest bit of patronizing, added, "I thought it was very nice, Shelby."

Standing, Kaye crossed her arms in front of her chest, shifted her hip to one side, and said with perfect attitude, "Word!"

The laughter rolled and Shelby instigated, "Your turn, Kaye; tell them about the bracelets."

Kaye groaned. "I'd rather not."

"Fair is fair," Brennan pressured.

"How about you?" Kaye began. "I'm sure you have some stories too."

Brennan shook her head. "No, I wasn't that into them."

Kaye was stunned. "I'm sorry, I don't comprehend."

Brennan laughed at Kaye's dramatics. "Seriously; I was concentrating on ballet then, not what was on the Top 40."

"Now sweetie, that's not entirely true, is it?" Dean questioned in a teasing tone. Brennan balled up a napkin and tossed it across the table toward him, but missed her mark by several inches. Dean laughed at her failed attempt before explaining, "It would seem the fair Mrs. McKenzie had a thing for my younger brother, and the group, he got his start in."

Holding her hand up in the air as though preparing to testify, Kaye offered, "Hey, no foul there. I've never seen a man do better justice to a pair of underwear."

With an artificial sigh, Dean boasted, "It's a family trait."

Imagining that picture turned Shelby's face priceless. To divert an onslaught of ridicule, she quickly insisted, "Come on, Kaye, tell the story."

Kaye huffed something unintelligible under her breath, reminding Shelby of Summer's seven-year-old attitude. After a dramatic roll of her hazel eyes, she began the requested story. "After going to our second concert, we came up with the idea to buy you each bracelets with your nicknames engraved."

David couldn't resist and interrupted with his best show-me-what-you-got smile. "Do you remember our nicknames now?"

Kaye gave a haughty expression before spouting off, "The Dean, J-Man, D, Jakey-Jake, and Spiff." Flippantly she declared, "Never doubt a true fan."

David held his hands out in surrender. "I'll remember that."

Kaye continued her story then. "The funniest part was, a few weeks later we saw a new poster in which you guys all had bracelets on. We were convinced that they were the one's we had given you."

"They were," Dean said sincerely.

The women looked at each other, and then at the people around the table before Kaye suggested, "Any body ever tell you that you suck as an actor, Dean Walden?"

The rest of the guys busted out laughing while, with a heart-stopping grin, Dean conceded, "Maybe a time or two." Then he winked, "But I think we all know how I feel about critics."

Josh intervened more seriously, "It would be nice if we could somehow catalog all our fan-gifts. Everyone puts a lot of thought into them."

"Mr. Organized." Kaye goaded. Then, swiveling her attention toward her best friend, informed, "Shelby, he should have been your favorite Block Boy."

With mock insult and shock, Josh demanded, "You mean I'm not?"

Everyone laughed, but Kaye pointed straight at Dean while still looking Josh's way, to direct, "Now that's acting."

"Thanks for the tip," Dean muttered mockingly, before leaning in to ask, "So who were you're favorites?"

"I loved all of you," Kaye chickened out with diplomacy.

Shelby narrowed her eyes at her friend and they both knew it was payback time. "You are so full of it."

"What?" Kaye countered as sincerely as she could manage.

Using her pointer finger, Shelby indicated each of the guys seated around the table. "Kaye's favorite teen Block Boy. Let's see . . . my mother told me to pick . . .." Shelby continued, until her finger stopped its search on David.

Kaye covered her face and squealed like a teenager.

With a little blush and grin, David informed, "I'm flattered and surprised. I'd have pegged you for Dean or Jared."

"I had my Jared moments, still do in fact." She winked at Jared, bringing a fresh round of laughter. "I always liked your quiet manner though. Nothing seemed to get you ruffled and you were always okay about letting Dean shove you out of the direct spotlight."

"Hey," Dean began in self-defense; "it was bad enough sharing it with two other big-heads. I couldn't let any more space be taken up."

"I rest my case," Kaye declared in exact courtroom dialect. "Furthermore, Mr. Don't-get-in-my-way Dean Walden was off limits. Pining away for him would have been like taking my life into my own hands." Glancing at her longtime friend, Kaye smirked before flapping, "Dean was Shelby's, no exceptions."

"Aww," the guys teased in unison.

"You could have at least harmonized that for me," Shelby retorted to their good-humor.

"Yeah, because she loves music, especially good harmony. You should hear her 'Dean Play list,'" Kaye supplied, making air quotes with her fingers.

Shelby's mouth hung open. "For crying out loud, Kaye, who needs enemies with a friend like you?"

Kaye shrugged. "Sorry, I'm just having fun."

"Someday, you'll pay dearly for this fun," Shelby assured her, not entirely kidding.

"Well, you have to tell us now," Brennan urged.

"Oh, no, I don't," Shelby hedged stubbornly.

"Come on, Shelby, I'd love to know," Dean joined the peer-pressure with a smile.

Despite her brain sounding off an alarm that warned, Caution – Butt of the Joke Status Ahead! Dean's charm worked its magic over Shelby, enticing her to reveal this somewhat-intimate detail.

Still hesitant, Shelby looked directly at Dean as she spoke. "You're not getting them all."

"Yet," he challenged openly, and then relented, "I'll settle for five."

"Nice try, but you're only getting three." Burying her eyes behind her hand, Shelby uttered, "Part of Your World from Disney's The Little Mermaid, Faith Hill's, It Will Be Me and On My Own from Les Miserables."

Without hesitation, Dean implored, "Play them."

Shelby's laughter was shaky. "Not on your life. You want to hear them and laugh; you can do that on your time, not mine."

"Fair enough," Dean agreed with a nod. "But then you have to explain why I'm your pick."

With a slight breath of relief, Shelby looked toward Dean and somehow managed to block out the others in the room; at least enough to give her answer some serious thought. "I have spent hours, pathetic I know, looking at your pictures and wondering that same thing. The best conclusion I have come to is that it's all about the attitude. I really like that over-confidence you have."

"Thanks?" Dean accepted, with uncertain appreciation.

Flashing his famous woman-killer smile, complete with dimples, Jared assured, "Well, it couldn't have been your looks; I'm far hotter."

"Too bad you were both outdone by the baby of the group." Jake inserted with exaggerated certainty.

"I hate to burst your bubble, but none of you guys compared to Kaye's older brother and his friends."

Kaye began laughing so hard that tears immediately filled her eyes, but she managed to ask, "Do you have your copy of the tape here?"

Shelby nodded and walked into the family room, calling back, "I'll turn it up so you can hear it in there. Go ahead and fill them in."

With an unnecessary nod, Kaye began, "It was my sophomore year, so my older brother and his closest friends were around eighteen years old. They had all moved to the ocean for the summer and on my birthday, they recorded their own special version of A Love Forever and sent it home as a gift."

Knowing what it took to hit the songs high notes, Jared cringed while settling in for the off-key entertainment coming from the next room. The listeners didn't make it past the first verse before their hilarity grew louder than the playing song.

The best part was yet to come, however.

As the song ended and Kaye's brother and his friends, still being recorded by the technician, boasted over which parts sounded the best.

"At least they had the timing right," Josh suavely complimented.

"Yeah and that's about it," Kaye added. "Still, I wouldn't give up that tape for a million dollars."

"And that," Brennan began, meeting the gazes of Kaye and Shelby, "is the stuff that really counts. The stuff great memories are made of."

Brennan leaned her head on Jake's shoulder and he kissed the top of her blonde head lightly. "You tired, baby?"

Brennan looked apologetically toward her hostess. "A little, plus we need to get back with Grant." It was touching that even this rock star wife and mom kept her toddler close in thought—another reminder of how the basics of love are the same, no matter a person's privilege.

"Will we see you at the concert tomorrow night?" David asked and Shelby noticed with silent pleasure that he addressed his question toward Kaye.

"There is the small matter of tickets," Kaye responded.

"If you want to come, that can be taken care of." David offered, "I've got connections."

Kaye glanced across the table at Shelby, they shared a brief conversation without words; the way only old friends can do. Shelby shrugged and responded, "Summer's with Chad until Monday." Which translated to Kaye as: Are you kidding me? Yes, Yes, Yes!

"Then it's set. How about you come early and you can watch from the wings?" Josh suggested.

Kaye and Shelby looked at each other again, shrugged nonchalantly and, somehow Kaye managed without screaming, "Well, if you insist."

Standing, Jared finalized, "We do." Moving around the table, he kissed each of the women on the cheek. "Thanks for all this."

Shelby waved her hand in dismissal. "You are very welcome."

Together the group walked to the front door and Kaye stepped out too. "I'm gonna lead them back to the interstate. Do you want me to come back and help clean up?"

Turning to hear her friends answer, Kaye noticed that Dean was still inside the house, standing a few feet back. She studied Dean a moment longer, then looked at Shelby and demanded "Call me in the morning."

"First thing," Shelby agreed, before waving to the departing group. Closing and locking the door, she turned to lean lightly against it and gave the appearance of being calm and cool—a major feat for Shelby. Inside, she really wanted to scream like a teenage groupie, Dean Walden is standing in my house, just three feet away!

As though reading her mind, Dean grinned slow and easy. "You don't mind if I give you a hand with the mess do you?"

Shelby tried to sound blasé. "Nah, I'll take help from wherever I can get it."

"And here I thought you'd be overwhelmed by my generosity."

Shelby's tone remained the same. "Oh, I am, but there's so much about you that overwhelms me, generosity just gets thrown into the mix."

The lazy, self-assured grin that Shelby thrilled at lit Dean's features. "I like that."

"I know you do," Shelby admitted brazenly.

In the next second, she remembered that this was real, not another fantasy and heat slowly crept up her neck toward her cheeks.

Dean's smile grew; it was shameful the way he affected her. It was sinful the way he knew he affected her. Still, he made no comment other than to say, "Let's get this."

For the briefest of moments, Shelby wondered exactly what he was suggesting and therefore had the urge to reach up to the corner of her mouth and make sure she wasn't drooling. Fighting the impulse, she instead responded—like a big nerd—"Okee-Dokee." Dodging the fallout from that statement, she quickly walked through the formal living room, into the adjacent dining room.

As Dean followed and helped Shelby gather the few remaining glasses from the table, the silence became deafening and obvious to both of them. Before the strain turned outright uncomfortable, Dean spoke up; "Twenty questions?"

Shelby glanced in his direction, but continued around the table with four glasses pinched between her fingers. "Sure, but that doesn't seem fair. I already know lots about you."

Dean chuckled and followed her into the kitchen with the remaining glasses. "You only know what I want the public to know."

"You mean like the fascinating facts that you like chocolate milk shakes, your favorite Boys from the Blocksong is Please Stay Girl and that your middle name is—"

"Don't go there."

"Edmond."

"And she went anyway," he remarked in an aside manner, to no one in particular. "Okay, I must admit that I'm a little impressed, a little scared, but more impressed than anything." Laughing with her, he reminded, "But that's hardly the real me or especially the mature me."

"You don't strike me as the type to keep many secrets," Shelby replied, opening the dishwasher and beginning to load the glasses on the top rack.

"Everybody has secrets, Shelby." Dean's voice was quite, but the words held a heavy meaning.

Finished with their task, Dean leaned back against the counter and Shelby moved a few feet away to sit on the end of the couch with her feet curled comfortably under her. "Well, let's make it five questions instead of twenty and since it's safe to say that I might know a bit more about you, I'll let you ask first."

"Okee-Dokee," Dean agreed like a true smart-ass. "New England or Manhattan Clam Chowder?"

Shelby laughed, "That's really your first question? I was expecting something a little more personal."

Dean half smiled, half smirked. "I like to keep you on your toes."

Rather than inform him bluntly that he could keep her wherever he wanted, Shelby responded, "I think this may be a trick question, but I'm guessing my honest one is what you're looking for; New England." With a playful wink, she added, "Where all good things come from."

Dean grinned, then crossed his arms, gave her a serious look, before prying, "Is Summer your only child?"

"Very smooth," Shelby commented on his easy depth change. "Yes, she's my only child and here's a freebie, she is seven-years-old and the most important thing on the planet." Her eyes met his meaningfully, "Bar none."

Dean got it, and replied simply, "That's exactly how it should be."

"How about you? I know you have two boys, but no other details. With a slight grimace, Shelby admitted, "I find it a little too freaky for fans to research celebrities' children."

"It's good to hear that some people still have morals about that sort of thing. Kendra and I have always been careful with the boys anyway." Reaching for his wallet, Dean asked, "Do you want to see a picture?"

It struck Shelby funny that even celebrities liked to show off pictures of their children. "I would love to."

She waited while Dean walked toward her, leaned down, and indicated, "This is Jaxson, I like to call him X, he's eight and Evan is four." In the photo, the boys sat on a hardwood floor, back-to-back. Each wore blue jeans, white sleeveless tee shirts, and no shoes. Their hair was dark brown, though Evan's was a bit lighter than his older brother's. They both had brown eyes and their skin-tone was fair like Dean's.

Glancing up to Dean's noticeably close face, Shelby opinionated, "Evan favors you."

"Yeah, X definitely looks more like Kendra, but he acts just like me."

"Is he a Leo too?" Shelby asked.

Dean didn't miss the fact that she knew this about him and smiled, "Yeah, August fourth."

"I'm August fifteenth, Summer is August seventeenth."

Dean laughed. "No kiddin', Summer and I have the same birthday?"

With a sardonic roll of her blue eyes, Shelby supplied, "The thought may have occurred to me before."

Indicating Summer's picture on the wall, Dean offered, "She's an adorable little girl." Glancing at the likeness of her fair-haired, green-eyed child, Shelby couldn't help but silently agree. Then Dean added, "Like her mother."

Nothing else came to mind, so Shelby graciously accepted the comment. "Thank You."

"Any chance of reconciling with Daddy?"

Shelby kept it simple; "No, he's moved on."

"He's a damn fool."

"I'll second that," Shelby stated sweetly. With more seriousness, she added, "But then again, you don't really know me well enough to say so. I mean, not to be rude, but I will never in all my life, be able to comprehend why a woman who married you would find a reason to leave, but Kendra did."

"I love that everything in this world can be changed by perception." Dean contemplated their words a moment, before choosing his next question and asking, "How long were you married?"

"Eight and a half years." Closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, Shelby opened them again and admitted, "Sometimes I forget that it's over."

For a moment, Dean just looked at her, studied her, and wished that he hadn't agreed so quickly to lessen the number of questions. "Here's an easy one. What's your favorite song?"

"That is not easy." Shelby gave him a look of blatant disbelief. "I mean, do you want country, pop, show tunes or just Boys from the Block?"

"I see," Dean patronized. "We'll move to another question then; strike that one." Shelby nodded her agreement and Dean asked, "Favorite attribute?"

"Mine or yours?" Shelby flirted.

Dean smiled broadly, "Let's start with yours."

Shelby scrunched up her nose in a very cute way. "I don't like this game." The look he gave her proved he wouldn't let her out of answering, so with a sigh she offered, "My sense of humor."

Dean nodded, "That's a good one, and I agree, but I'm talkin' physical."

Shelby laughed. "My smile."

"That's another good one. Got anymore?"

Shelby turned the charm higher. "I don't know, why don't you tell me?"

"Because that would defeat the purpose of the game," Dean evaded smoothly.

"Well, that's all I can come up with on my own." Shelby responded sincerely.

Dean tilted her chin up with the tip of his finger so that her blue eyes were locked with his hazel. "You're entirely too hard on yourself."

"You really think so?" She began with a mocking tone. "'Cause I've seen pictures of Kendra, the woman is beautiful." It was one of those comments that Shelby wished she could immediately retract.

It was too late though and Dean's response was perfect, "You're beautiful too."

Shelby couldn't stop the breathy laugh from escaping her lips. "There's no comparison between the two of us."

"I'm not the one who's comparing."

Shelby believed it was quite possible Dean was going to have to find her a paper bag to breathe into, if they were going to continue conversing. With a shaky start, she stated, "Okay, so no comparisons; but I still know from experience that divorce papers don't stop years of feelings. Plus, I'm a fan, I've heard the songs."

Dean's green eyes were serious, contemplative, before he answered. "Then listen to this; yes I love Kendra and I always will. She's the mother of my son's, we shared a life together, but when it's over, it's over, and Kendra and I are officially over." Sighing, Dean perched himself on the couch beside Shelby, close enough that their legs were touching. "When I started to toss around the idea of joining the guys for a reunion, Kendra started to pull back and push away from me. She couldn't support my dream, and music was my first love, my original commitment. She gave me a lot of attitude, sleepless nights and finally an ultimatum." Grinning sheepishly, Dean finished, "I've never been one to bend to an ultimatum. I felt trapped, she wanted out and I wanted freedom."

"Sleepless nights?" Shelby whispered thoughtfully. "Tick, Tock?"

"I didn't realize I was that transparent." Dean smiled.

Shelby's kind eyes sparkled with tears. "Maybe I just understand you."

Lazily, Dean slid his fingers along Shelby's jawbone and down the length of her neck. "And maybe that's what I need."

Then Dean kissed her.

Not just any kiss—this was the kiss Shelby had waited more than half her life for.

This was the kiss that she had dreamed about at night, while a Boys from the Block CD softly played her to sleep. This was the kiss that filled daydreams and made her run stoplights or cut her finger while she was cooking.

Like Wendy in Summer's favorite story, Peter Pan, this was Shelby's secret kiss and she was finally giving it to the man it was intended for.

Dean's lips were soft, but in control. He didn't pry for more, though Shelby sensed if she gave him a hint, he would take it. Since she was already having enough trouble breathing, she let things go on as they were. When Dean finally pulled back, he didn't open his eyes, but leaned his forehead against hers and asked, "You okay with that?"

A husky laugh escaped Shelby's tingling lips. "I'm sorry; I can't hear you over the blood pounding in my ears." Still, she managed to lean toward him for more.

Easing back just far enough for him to see her smile, Shelby inquired, "Well?"

Dean was hesitant. "Well what?"

Shelby's smile grew. "Doesit have a twist?"

Dean laughed, "I'll just say that the third and the forth, I don't wanna miss."

"Perfect."

Shelby took control again and her surprising caress enveloped Dean's senses in a way that assured the memory of her sweet touch would linger with him during the long drive back to D.C., later that night.