I Love How You Love Me: The Sullivans (8 page)

“We bonded earlier this week when they came by my boathouse. The three of us are heading out tonight to the hands-on aquarium.”

“On a date?” He could hear the hope in her voice.

“Last night was an interview. Tonight we’re going to be friends. I’m trying not to move too fast.” It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, holding himself back when he wanted Grace so badly…and knew, even before their smoking-hot kiss, that she wanted him just as badly.

“She’s careful,” his mother mused. “Or trying to be, at least. She’s obviously been hurt.”

Knowing he would never forgive himself if he hurt her in any way, he said, “I’ll be careful with her, Mom.”

“I know you will. Although, honestly, I’m not sure that careful is always the right way to go. Take your father and me, for instance. If we’d succeeded at being careful, we would never have taken a chance on each other.”

“You look so innocent for someone who dumped your fiancé to marry his best friend,” he teased.

She made a sound that he could easily interpret as
Watch yourself, kid.
“In any case,” she said, “I get the sense that Grace has been careful for too long already. She’s obviously a very accomplished and determined woman, given that she has a successful freelance writing career and has done a marvelous job of raising her son by herself. If you ask me, there is a daring woman inside of her just itching to bust out.”

It was just what he’d seen, too, and was the reason he didn’t feel guilty about last night’s kiss. Not only because she’d been the one to start it, but also because it was obvious how much she’d
wanted
it.

“I remember what it was like to want something so badly that it scared me, Dylan. Scared me enough that I thought pushing your father away was the only thing that made sense.”

He knew his mother was warning him that the route to Grace’s heart might not be a smooth one. But stormy seas had never scared him. “Do you know why Mason and I bonded right away?”

“Why?”

“Because we both have great moms.”

“You’ve always made it easy, honey. Now, your brother Adam, on the other hand…I’ve never seen anyone so immune to falling in love.”

“All the more reason that we’re going to love watching him get twisted up in knots when it finally happens. Got anyone in mind who’d be capable of turning him into a pretzel?”

His mother made a considering sound. “Actually, now that you mention it, I just might. I need to give Rafe and Brooke a quick ring.”

“You’ve got something up your sleeve, haven’t you?”

“Always,” she said with a laugh. “Have a good time with Grace and Mason tonight, sweetie.”

“I will.” He had absolutely no doubt about that. Just as he knew that despite what Grace tried to tell herself about last night’s kiss being their one and only, more kisses were definitely on tonight’s menu.

* * *

Writing had always been easy for Grace. She’d loved her English classes in high school and college and when other students had been moaning about having to write their essays, she’d focused on fine-tuning hers until they sang. Writing for a newspaper had been intense with tight deadlines that had no room for error, but she’d enjoyed rising to—and meeting—those challenges. Once she’d gone freelance and that career path had gone well, too, she’d assumed that it would always be an enjoyable ride from idea to finished story. Writer’s block had been something she hadn’t been able to comprehend, not when the words always flowed and the process of putting them down was such an enjoyable one.

Until she got pregnant.

Of all the publications she’d written for, and all the topics she’d covered, amazingly, pregnancy hadn’t been anywhere on the list. Which meant the brain fog from rapidly shifting hormones during her first trimester hit her from completely out of the blue. It didn’t help, of course, that she’d also been dumped and that her ex’s family had tried to pay her off at the exact same time.

The words that had always been right there for the plucking were suddenly
much
harder to find. But she’d had continual deadlines from all the magazines and newspapers that kept accepting her pitches, so she continued to slog through her writing days.

Mason hadn’t been a difficult baby, thank God, but without the extra money to pay for child care, she had been fitting her writing in at nap time for the past ten months. Naps that were, she noted as she heard her son carry on a cheerful conversation in baby language with his stuffed giraffe in his crib, getting shorter and shorter all the time. Mason didn’t want to waste his time sleeping. He wanted to be out exploring and playing.

Figuring she probably had another fifteen minutes to make a final pass through her story on paying off a mortgage early before Mason insisted she come get him from his crib, she was very glad that by the time she finished her final edit, the words had started to come a little bit faster. Earlier in the week, she’d been struggling to put this piece together so that it read like the fun, energetic article she’d promised the magazine editor. Today, however, for the first time in a year and a half, instead of feeling like she was pulling and yanking the words, she had simply been trying to get them down as fast as they came to her.

She hoped that today would be the beginning of a long string of good, flowing writing days. But had her writing finally started to click again because of the simple passage of time bringing her innate gift back to her? Or were her juices flowing again because of the great evening—and mind-blowing kiss—that she’d shared with Dylan Sullivan yesterday?

Earlier, before Mason had gone down for his afternoon nap, she’d multitasked by playing with her son and transcribing the interview while he was happily absorbed with one of his toys. Mason had looked up when he’d heard Dylan speak and had grinned widely before crawling around the small apartment to look for the man who had clearly already become one of his favorite people. When he couldn’t find Dylan and had begun to get upset, she’d distracted him with some Cheerios, then decided to wait until he went down for his nap to finish transcribing so that he wouldn’t be so confused about why his new friend was hiding from him.

Some writers hated the transcription process, so much so that they would hire companies to do the work for them. But Grace loved having the chance to pick up on things she hadn’t noticed during the actual interview, from a slight nuance in her subject’s voice to an important detail. Particularly when she’d been slightly distracted at Dylan’s parents’ house by hoping that Mason was being good with Claudia…and also by how difficult it had been to turn off her hormones around Dylan. More than difficult, actually.

Pretty much impossible.

Grace tried not to beat herself up too much about that, though. Not when she was certain that even the most hardened journalist would soften around him. Not only because of his good looks and easy charm, but also because his answers were intelligent and insightful. For all that he loved the sea and his boats, he didn’t make sailing out to be perfect. On the contrary, he was honest about the dangers, and about the fact that it could be both scary and lonely.

It would be so much easier to guard her heart against Dylan if he were simply a good-looking man who also happened to be a great kisser. Instead, he was surprisingly balanced despite the fact that he could have held the entire world in his hands if he’d wanted to. Olympic medals. World Cup racing wins. And the most beautiful women in the world.

Somehow, she’d need to keep herself from doing anything stupid tonight. Their one sizzling-hot kiss last night had been hard enough on her peace of mind. Especially now that she knew for certain precisely how dangerous the sexual energy simmering just below the surface of Dylan’s easy smiles was…and worse still, how every part of her wanted to find out just how exciting and explosive it would be when he lost control.

Mason’s conversation with his giraffe was rising in volume by the time she forcibly corralled her X-rated thoughts. She was about to close the screen on her laptop when a picture caught her attention on the news page that had popped up when she opened her email to send the mortgage article to her editor.

Her gut twisted as she looked at a picture of her ex, the woman he’d married a year ago, and the older Bentleys at the White House correspondents’ dinner. They looked just as they had a year and a half ago, with no shadows or guilt marring their perfect smiles. No one would look at this picture and believe they had given her money to get rid of her baby. Yet again, the caption of the picture mentioned her ex’s issues with infertility, which had been leaked to the press via an unnamed source who was “close to the family.”

Her gut twisted with fear again—Mason might have been born out of wedlock, but in the absence of any legitimate children, he was the one and only Bentley heir to their
Fortune
500 throne! Thank God Dylan had agreed to let her write the cover story about him so that she could put more money toward her just-in-case defense fund. She would
never
let that family take her son away from her. Not in a million years.

A few moments later, a new photo popped up on the screen, and Grace was stunned yet again, not by another picture of her ex, but by one of Smith Sullivan and his beautiful fiancée, Valentina. According to the text beneath the photo, they had also attended the dinner in Washington, D.C.

How close to her ex had Dylan’s cousin been? Had they sat at the same table? Were they friends? Did they do business together?

There could have been no more perfect, or potent, reminder of how crazy she’d be if she let one kiss with Dylan sway her. She’d sworn she would never forget to keep her guard up, and yet look how quickly it had started falling.

But it was more than that. What would a Sullivan want with a nearly broke single mother? A year and a half ago, she hadn’t wanted to sit down and examine what it was that Richard had wanted from her, what his angle was. She’d simply wanted to be swept away from everything, especially the pain of losing her father. Now, she knew she needed not only to be more careful, but to be smarter, too, rather than just letting herself fall for the fantasy again.

Especially when the fantasy was likely to up and sail away to far-flung lands at any time.

After closing her laptop, she worked to shake off her black mood as she walked into the bedroom. Hearing her approach, Mason grinned and reached out for her.

Her child was the most important thing in her world, and nothing—not even the hottest kiss ever with Dylan Sullivan—would change that.

CHAPTER NINE

Instinct, for a sailor, was much more important than intellect. It wasn’t that sailors weren’t smart—all those long hours at sea when the winds weren’t cooperating made reading anything you could get your hands on crucial to keep from losing your mind sometimes. It was simply that a great sailor understood that analytics and calculations could never be a match for a wild and beautiful ocean that could easily outmatch the best radar and the newest computer consoles.

After the kiss Dylan and Grace had shared the night before, he believed more strongly than ever that the instincts he had been trusting for thirty-one years were going to lead him in the right direction, yet again. And soon, he hoped, Grace would learn to trust her own instincts again, too, even if she had clearly lifted her guard all the way back up in the wake of last night’s kiss.

Keeping things light and easy all evening at the aquarium, as friends, would hopefully be the first step to truly earning Grace’s heart. Hating that she’d been hurt and felt she needed to be so wary and cautious with him, he silently vowed to do whatever he could to help her learn that it was okay to risk—and to trust him. Still, it wasn’t easy to rein in the fierce urge to yank those walls back down by giving her another kiss.

Mason giggled as a group of koi swam, quick and slippery, beneath his little fingertips in the tank. For the past half hour he’d refused to leave this spot.

“I’ve taken him to aquariums before, but he’s never responded like this. Actually being able to touch and feed the animals makes such a huge difference.” Grace’s eyes were shining with gratitude when she turned to him. “Please thank your friend for agreeing to stay open late so that we could come here tonight. Between Mason’s nap times and my trying to fit in work around them, I would never have been able to work it out.” Turning back to her son, she said, “It’s time to say good-bye to everyone now so that they can close up.”

Dylan did his best not to laugh at Mason’s stubborn look and the slight shake of his head. No question about it, this kid was going to be a handful one day. Just like Dylan and his siblings had been. Still were, actually, despite his mother having said that he’d made it easy on her. She’d been strict about kindness and manners, but in everything else she’d always just let them be kids. Even if getting wild and stupid had sometimes—usually—resulted in banged-up bones and scraped skin.

He was impressed by how well Grace dealt with what might have turned into a tantrum when she started to wave bye-bye to the fish and Mason got so caught up in mirroring her that he forgot about not wanting to leave.

As soon as they walked away from the tank, Mason reached out for Dylan. But instead of passing him over, Grace gave her son a kiss on the forehead and said, “He’s already been carrying you most of the night. You can stay with me for a little while.”

“I’m happy to take him, Grace.”

“I know you are, but—” She scrunched up her nose, looking as cute as her kid always did. “It’s been just the two of us for so long that I guess I’m not yet sure how I feel about him being so comfortable in anyone else’s arms. Which really isn’t fair when I can see how much he likes being around another guy.”

“You’re obviously the most important person in the world to him. But if you ever want to lean on someone else for a while, I’m here.”

He could tell she wanted to ask him why he was already clearly all-in—especially since asking the important questions was a large part of the reason she’d chosen journalism. At the same time, it wasn’t too hard to guess that the reason she didn’t was because she wasn’t yet ready to hear his answer.