CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
They spent nearly an hour at Dylan’s parents’ house playing with Mason while he showed them the new toys Claudia had picked up for him. Max Sullivan was there, too, and though he was a man of few words, Grace could easily see how much he enjoyed her son as well.
Surprisingly, by the time they got back to her apartment, Mason was still awake. Not so surprisingly, he was in Dylan’s arms, laughing at one of his silly faces. She’d never had a first date like this one, where they almost hadn’t made it out of her apartment in the first place because they were so tempted just to jump each other instead. And she’d never spent so much time with any of her dates’ families, either. But instead of feeling like Dylan’s family were intruding on her time with him, she’d had a great time with Adam at the museum and then with Claudia and Max at their house.
“Your dad reminds me so much of mine. A man of few words, but all of them wise. Or funny,” she added with a grin. She’d felt so safe with the Sullivans. Safe and—though she’d only known them a short while—appreciated. “Do your parents know the whole story about my ex, too?”
Dylan shook his head. “Only my brothers know. I was afraid that if I told my parents—”
“They’d end up worrying too much about us,” she finished for him. “Now that I’m a parent, I get it. No matter how much you try to tell yourself that everything will be fine, you can’t stand the thought of your own child ever getting hurt in any way.”
When Mason wiggled, Dylan put him down on the floor, where he immediately crawled over to the coffee table to pull himself up.
“Look at you,” she said. “What a big boy you’re turning into.” She turned to Dylan. “Why don’t I brew us some coffee?”
But Dylan didn’t reply. Instead, he was staring at Mason in amazement.
When she turned back, she saw that her son’s little fingers were gripping the edge of the coffee table. Mason had a look of great concentration on his face, and Grace held her breath as he suddenly let go of the table and took one wobbly step and then another. Halfway into his third step, he fell with a plop onto his bottom.
He looked up at her and then Dylan as if to say, Did you see me? Did you see what I did?
She was laughing and crying at the same time as she swooped him up into her arms. “You walked!”
“You’re amazing, kid,” Dylan said, as much awe in his voice as had been in hers.
She had rained kisses over her son’s entire face by the time he wiggled back down to the floor. He pulled himself up on the side of the couch and then, with a shove, propelled himself forward again.
Without thinking, Grace reached out to hold Dylan’s hand. Or maybe he was the one who reached out for her. Either way, all that mattered was that he was here to share this milestone with her, and that he was as amazed by it as she was.
“We have to call your mom, have to take a video and email it to her so that she can see what Mason is doing!”
Dylan didn’t seem to think it was at all strange for her to think of his parents when she and Mason had only just met them the week before. Probably because he knew his mom would go crazy over this news.
He filmed first Mason alone and then both of them when Grace held out her arms and Mason walked into them. She was so happy, even though she couldn’t stop crying. But it was okay. She knew Claudia would understand, because Dylan’s mother had likely cried tears of joy at all of her children’s first steps.
Finally, Mason stayed on his bottom and started yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Looks like it’s time to finally wind down for the night.” It had been an incredible evening, and she knew she shouldn’t be disappointed that it was over. “I should get him changed and into his jammies and then read him his usual bedtime story.”
“My nieces and nephews tell me I do a pretty good job with bedtime stories,” Dylan offered.
She was sure she’d never smiled so widely before or felt so happy in all her life. “In that case, we’ll be right back.”
* * *
Dylan’s voice was so soothing as he read to Mason that Grace felt her own eyelids grow heavy. And maybe she would have fallen asleep if she hadn’t been so totally sure that tonight was the night.
From their first kiss—heck, from the first time she’d set eyes on Dylan, if she was being totally honest with herself—she’d been on the verge of giving herself to him. And every time they were together, she moved closer to that daring tumble.
But when he’d rejoiced with her over Mason taking his first steps?
No woman could have resisted a man like that.
Though Mason began to make cute little snoring sounds partway through the story, Dylan didn’t stop reading. With his attention on the book, Grace took the opportunity to feast her eyes on him, and to marvel yet again not only at how good he was with her son…but also at the precipice on which they stood tonight.
Soon the book would be put down, Mason would be in his crib, and there would only be the two of them.
Finally, Dylan shut the book and looked down at the little boy sleeping so trustingly, so peacefully, in the crook of one of his strong arms. When Grace saw the emotion in his eyes, she felt her own grow wet.
She’d tried so hard to be careful, to protect both Mason and herself from having a man drop into their lives and then drop out on a whim. But how could she ever have been prepared for a man like Dylan Sullivan? For his heart-stopping, infectious grins. For the serious way he took his boatbuilding work and his life’s passion for sailing. For his strength, both in the way he used his hands and muscles to make a huge boat take shape, and in his personal convictions. For the gentle way he held her and Mason. For the way his family had taken in her and her son without so much as a pause. And, most of all, for the way he continually made her face her fears, one after the other. She hadn’t nearly faced them all yet, but at least she’d finally stopped feeling like a shell of the old Grace Adrian.
“We never make it to the end of the book, either.” She ran her hand over her son’s soft hair. “I’ll put him in his crib.”
“Could I?”
Her heart should have been used to the way it always thudded like a rocket against her breastbone whenever Dylan was near, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to being with someone so selfless, so full of kindness—all of it wrapped up in the sexiest package imaginable.
She’d already let her son and Dylan laugh together, little manly in-jokes that had clearly filled her son’s heart with pure joy. And she’d just let Dylan read Mason’s bedtime story with her little boy on his lap. Shouldn’t she draw a line—shouldn’t she remind both of them that for all he’d played the part of Mason’s father all night, he wasn’t?
The way Dylan softly said her name told her he’d just read every one of her thoughts and could clearly see how torn she was about letting him even more deeply into their lives. Perhaps it shouldn’t be such a big deal who put her son into his crib, but for Grace, that final kiss good night was a symbol of parenthood that she’d earned not just in every moment that she’d carried Mason inside of her body, but during every day of the past ten months when everything she’d done had been for him.
“I would protect Mason with my life,” Dylan said softly. “If he ever needs me for any reason, I’ll drop everything for him.”
And that was when she knew she’d never have to worry ever again about her son where Dylan was concerned. Because even if the gorgeous man sitting beside her on the couch grew tired of her, she now knew with utter certainty that he’d never walk away from Mason. Her romance with Dylan had absolutely nothing to do with the bond the two of them had created with one another.
Her relief was so swift and heady that the smile she gave him was completely genuine. “I’d love it if you’d help put him to bed.”
They walked together through the small living room and into the bedroom that she and Mason shared. His crib was in the corner, the stuffed zoo animals on the mobile above it sent dancing in the wake of the door opening. The changing table was beside it, loaded up with diapers and skin cream and wipes.
Most men, she imagined, wouldn’t be particularly interested in baby things. But she could see how charmed Dylan was by the scene. At least, right before he turned to look at her bed and then at her as though he couldn’t stop picturing the two of them having wild and crazy sex in it.
She’d been thinking of anything but sex when she’d bought the double bed and the sheets for it upon moving to Seattle. But suddenly, she knew she’d never be able to look at her bed in that sexless way again.
“Lucky guy,” he said as he lowered her son carefully into his crib with a soft kiss to his forehead, “getting to share a bedroom with the prettiest girl in the world.”
As soon as Mason felt the mattress beneath him, he turned onto his stomach and curled into a little ball with his butt up in the air. “That’s his favorite way to sleep,” she whispered to Dylan as she bent over the crib and gave Mason a kiss good night. “I love you, sweet pea.”
Dylan reached for her hand and slid his fingers through hers before whispering, “You’re lucky, too. So damned lucky to have him.”
Any other guy she dated would probably have been beyond irritated that she shared a bedroom with her kid, but Dylan wasn’t like anyone else, was he?
“I know,” she agreed.
Mason’s eyes came half-open, and he peered at them as if trying to figure out whether it really was bedtime or if he should get up again to play with his new favorite playmate, so she quickly led Dylan out of the bedroom.
He drew her into his arms as soon as the door closed behind them with a soft click and she had checked the monitor in the living room to make sure it was turned on. “I had a great time with you tonight. With both of you.” His dark gaze was far more intense than his words would have indicated. “And I’m really glad you let me read his bedtime story tonight and put him to bed.”
“I had a really, really good time, too. Just like always. I’m so glad you were here with us tonight.”
“I am, too.”
“Watching Mason take his first steps completely erased how sick I felt over what you told me at the museum.”
“It helped me, too,” he told her. “More than you know.”
“It’s been such an amazing night…I don’t want it to be over yet.”
Dylan didn’t say anything in response, simply looked into her eyes as if he was not only trying to make sure she wasn’t just saying what he wanted to hear, but that she truly meant it.
“Stay.”
The word came out as barely more than a whisper, which wasn’t right. Not when she wanted him to stay with her tonight more than she’d ever wanted anything. It didn’t matter how quickly her nerves had risen, or that she was trembling against him. She needed him to know how much this night had—and would—mean to her.
“Please stay and make love with me, Dylan. I know we’ve only got the couch, but—”
“The couch is perfect,” he said as he stroked his hands down her back to the curve of her hips. “And don’t forget the kitchen table.” He shot a glance at the small rug in front of the gas fireplace. “The rug doesn’t look too bad, either. And that’s just the first three times.”
She laughed the way she knew he’d intended her to, and also heated up the way he clearly wanted her to, as well, from his wicked suggestions of all the places he wanted to take her.
She wanted him in all those places, too.
“You’re nervous,” he said, his voice gentle despite the heat that remained. “Tell me why.”
She was continually surprised by how much Dylan saw, and how deeply. After meeting his mother, his father, his siblings, she knew she shouldn’t be so surprised. But he was just so different from any other man she’d been with.
And still…instead of truly being able to appreciate it, and him, she found herself always holding her breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Which was why it was more than just the physical aspect of their lovemaking that had her insides spinning. Tonight had to be about total honesty between her and Dylan. Honesty might have been only one of the many things that had been absent between her and her ex, but it had been the most important.
“This is what I swore to myself I would never let happen again. This is what I’ve fought so hard against for the past year and a half.” She swallowed hard. “But instead of keeping strong, I just asked you to stay the night with me. I just begged you to make love to me. And the worst part of all is that if you were to leave right now, I’d feel emptier and more alone than I ever have before.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised her, and the answering relief that swept through her made her knees nearly as weak as his kisses had. “You are the strongest person I’ve ever met, Grace. I know what a risk you’re taking on me tonight after the way you’ve been hurt. I know you would never give yourself to a man if you didn’t trust him. To know I’ve earned even a little of your trust, even if I don’t have nearly all of it...” He smiled down at her as he brushed the backs of his knuckles across her cheek. “I’m nervous, too.”
His confession stole what was left of her breath, especially because she knew he wasn’t just saying it to try to make her feel more at ease by putting them in the same boat.
“Why?” She covered his hand with hers and drew it down so that his palm rested flat over her heart. “Why would you be nervous?”
“Do you really want to know?”
She would have said a quick and easy yes were it not for the fact that he was looking at her in a way that no other man ever had. She’d thought she was nervous about sleeping with him, but now she was a thousand times more nervous about his answer.
And yet, just as she couldn’t have pushed out of his arms and asked him to leave, there was no way for her to pretend she didn’t want to know his why.
“Tell me,” she whispered.
His mouth curved up, just enough for his eyes to crinkle at the sides. “I’m in love with you, Grace.”
Hadn’t she known it was what he was going to say? Hadn’t she read the truth of it in the way he looked at her? In the way he touched and kissed her? In the way he treated her son as though he was the most precious child in the entire world?
But that didn’t make the impact of his words of love any less forceful.
The only way she could keep her legs from giving out beneath her was to grip his hand still pressed over her heart, while his other hand on her hip held the rest of her steady. She knew he could see how much he’d just rocked her world, even more than he’d already rocked it by simply existing. And yet, just as he’d always gently pushed her to let him into her life since the day they’d met, he didn’t let her retreat from what he’d said now, either.
“I’m so in love with you that in one week, you and Mason have already become everything to me.” He leaned in so that his cheek pressed against hers and his lips were at her ear. “That’s why I’m nervous—because I want tonight to be perfect. Completely perfect.”
His breath was warm on her sensitive skin, but she shivered at the beautiful things he was saying to her.
Beautiful, but so incredibly overwhelming.
Could she trust that what she felt really was love this time? Or was it just a deeper physical hunger than she’d ever thought to feel? And when would she stop being so frightened of making another mistake?
Grace had never been more grateful for anything in her life than she was for her son, but at the same time, she’d never withstand the kind of heartbreak she’d been through with his father again.
“I didn’t tell you I’m in love with you so that you’d feel you had to say it back. I know I’ve pushed you to date me since the moment we met, and I can’t regret doing that when I really do believe that you and I and Mason belong together. But I would never push you to give me your heart before you’re ready, just as I would never push you to make love with me if you’re not ready.”
She wanted to tell him that he had her heart, wished she could just leap without being afraid of crashing and breaking into so many pieces this time that she’d never be whole again. But for tonight, there was only one thing she was one hundred percent sure about.
“I want to make love with you, Dylan. More than I can remember ever wanting anything else.”
The final word had barely fallen from her lips when his mouth came down on hers, hot and borderline desperate.
“You can’t want it more than I do.” His lips rained a sizzling and heated path from her mouth to her jaw. “When does Mason wake up in the morning?”
She couldn’t get her head around his question for a few seconds, not in the wake of the sensual pleasure of having his mouth and hands roving hungrily over her. Finally, she managed, “Six.”
“How am I going to fit everything I want to do with you into nine hours?”
A rush of need hit her then, so potent that she went a little crazy. Crazier, even, than she’d already been for Dylan. Now that she’d decided to make love with him, to finally give in to the soul-deep craving that she’d been working so hard to fight these past weeks, need clawed at her. And she couldn’t wait another second.
Grace reached for his shirt, her fingers fumbling and desperate as she tried to get it off him. “I need you to take me. Now. Right now.”
She barely had his shirt halfway up when he put a hand over hers. “We may only have nine hours, but a little foreplay and a handful of orgasms aren’t going to kill you.”
A handful of orgasms before he finally took her? She’d never survive it.
“You know I haven’t had sex in forever, that I haven’t ever had it with a man who makes me feel the way you always do. Don’t make me wait. We can just do it once to take the edge off and then—”
His mouth on hers cut her off, and though his hand fisted in her hair, the slow, sweet way his tongue stroked over hers until she had no choice but to match his rhythm told her more clearly than any words would have that he was most definitely going to make her wait.
And that she was going to love every single second of it.