CHAPTER THREE
Thunder and lightning rocked the sky outside Grace’s apartment on Friday afternoon as she waited for Dylan to come pick them up. Mason had crawled over to the window and was clapping with glee every time the lightning flashed and thunder boomed.
Grace lifted him so that he could get a better view of the storm, one that felt way too close to the storm that had been raging inside of her for the past three days. Dylan had deftly maneuvered her into agreeing to do the interview at his childhood home, of all places. While it wasn’t at all unusual for a big name to call the shots with a journalist, the fact that she’d taken one look at Dylan and had wanted him in a way she’d never wanted another man had her worried.
Very worried, given that the one time she’d let the line blur between her job and her personal life had been a huge mistake.
She hugged Mason tighter as she mentally erased the word mistake. She would willingly have made a thousand mistakes all over again to have him here with her. But even though the two of them had made it through both her solo pregnancy and single parenting for the first ten months of his life, that didn’t mean she needed to make another, similar mistake with Dylan.
Richard Bentley had asked Grace out during their interview a year and a half ago. No one that charming or full of compliments had ever looked in her direction before. So while she knew she shouldn’t mix work with pleasure, he’d been too persuasive and determined for her to resist. Especially in the wake of her father’s death only six months earlier. All she’d wanted to do was just forget for a little while.
Her first date with Richard had been on a private rooftop just outside of Washington, D.C. The restaurant with its white tablecloths had been so fancy that she would have felt terribly out of place in her simple black dress and shoes if they hadn’t been in a completely private part of the restaurant. By the end of the evening, her head was spinning with bubbly and what had seemed at the time like the most romantic date she’d ever had. She never usually slept with a guy on the first date, but looking back, Grace couldn’t deny that she’d felt as though she’d owed Richard for the fairy-tale evening.
On their second date, he’d taken her out on the sailboat, and though the trip hadn’t gone as well as dinner under the stars, she hadn’t considered ending that date with only a kiss good night, either. Every date they had was the same: He’d take her somewhere private that knocked her socks off and then she’d invite him in for the night. By the time she’d realized that something didn’t seem quite right—Why did he never take her out where strangers could see them together? Why did he always have an excuse about being too busy to see her or talk during the week? Why did he say he wanted to keep their relationship between just the two of them for a little while longer?—she’d also missed her period.
Richard hadn’t been at all pleased to learn just weeks later that she was pregnant.
It should have been crazy for Grace to assume that Dylan had anything more in mind tonight than a quick interview and a home-cooked meal at his parents’ house. But she’d stopped being able to lie to herself on the day the pregnancy test had come up positive. So while she couldn’t understand it, she also couldn’t deny the heat that had been in Dylan’s eyes when he’d looked at her. Nor could she deny the answering hit of heat she’d felt simply from being near him. Adding in how good he’d been with Mason and how easily he’d been able to turn her son’s tears into giggles? Right there were three big fat reasons why she would need to work overtime to keep things strictly professional. Because he was far, far too tempting...
The doorbell rang, and she tried to prepare herself to see him again, but when she opened the door, the obvious appreciation in his gaze had her long-dormant sensuality immediately leaping back to life, higher and hotter than ever before. Just the way it had on Tuesday in his boathouse.
“You look beautiful, Grace.”
“Thank you.” It had been so long since anyone had told her she was pretty—or since she’d let herself believe it. “Come on in and I’ll go grab Mason’s things.”
Her son immediately reached for Dylan, and though she felt the same twinge in her chest at the thought of letting anyone else hold him, she knew better than to try to hold Mason off this time. Clearly, he’d been yearning to be close to another guy.
“I like your place,” Dylan said as he looked around her apartment’s small kitchen and living room. “Having the park across the street must be great.”
“It’s a great neighborhood, but you’re right, the park is what sold me.” Despite the fact that the apartment had been, and still was, out of her price range. “Yesterday, when he kept pointing at the slide the big kids were going down, I took him on my lap for the first time.”
“I’ll bet he loved it, didn’t he?”
“So much that we’d still be doing it right now if I hadn’t stopped being able to carry him one-armed up the ladder an hour later,” she confirmed with a ruffle of Mason’s dark hair. She was just about to sling his heavy baby bag and his portable car seat over either shoulder when Dylan said, “Why don’t you take a rest from heavy lifting for a couple of hours and let me carry your load for you?”
She didn’t know why Dylan’s offer made her want to start sobbing, only that she couldn’t keep letting him make her go all soft inside like this. Staying tough and determined was what had kept her and Mason’s life on track so far. If she let down her guard now, if she let someone else carry her load even if it was just for a little while, how hard would it be to pick it up again later, all by herself? Besides, Dylan already had her son in his arms, and she could easily handle the rest. Just the way she always did.
“I’ve got them,” she insisted, when the truth was that between playtime at the park the day before and her long day at the computer rewriting every sentence of her article on new nail polish trends a half-dozen times, her shoulders were aching.
She was more than a little surprised by the beat-up Jeep parked outside her apartment building. From the research she’d done about Dylan’s business—and after having been inside his state-of-the-art boathouse—she knew he was wealthy. But unlike her ex, who’d had to proclaim his wealth in any way he could, Dylan obviously didn’t feel the need to drive around in a little red sports car or a massive Hummer that would edge out all the other cars on the road.
She quickly fit Mason’s car seat into the backseat, then clipped him in and handed him a toy to play with during the drive.
“My mom has been counting down the minutes since I called to let her know that you and Mason were coming to dinner.”
Grace had already felt nervous about tonight, but now her nerves jumped another notch. “He was a little fussy earlier. Hopefully he won’t melt down right when we get there.”
“I’m sure he’ll do great tonight. Besides, after raising five of us, my mother’s a master at dealing with meltdowns.”
With Mason banging away on his toy in the backseat of the Jeep, she should have been able to keep her hormones in check. But the noise didn’t make her any less aware of how close to her thigh Dylan’s hand was on the gearshift or how good he smelled—an intoxicating combination of the sea and freshly cut wood.
“I’d love to know more about your family.” She’d promised Dylan that she wouldn’t focus on his family in the story, but just as he’d said on Tuesday, she’d at least need some background on them to help her understand how Dylan had become the man he was. “In doing some preliminary research for my article, I think I have a fairly good handle on what each of them does for a living.”
His oldest brother, Ian, was not only the billionaire founder of Sullivan Investments, he had also recently become engaged to Tatiana Landon, a beautiful and talented movie star. Dylan’s second-oldest brother, Adam, was well known for his historic house renovations throughout the Pacific Northwest. His middle brother, Rafe, was a private investigator and was engaged to a woman who made gourmet chocolates. Rounding out the group was his sister, Mia, who owned Sullivan Realty and was engaged to rock star Ford Vincent.
“But I was wondering—” At a red light, he turned to smile at her, and her brain mixed up the question she meant to ask and the one she actually wanted to know the answer to. “What’s it like to be related to so many famous people?” She clapped her hands over her mouth, shaking her head as though that could magically erase the intrusive words that had fallen out. “I’m sorry, that was out of line. I meant to ask if they all sail, too.”
“It wasn’t at all out of line,” he said with a grin that had only grown wider by the time the light turned green and he hit the gas pedal. “And yes, they all sail, too. Which means that I can usually get them into the water if they ever need to be taken down a notch. There’s nothing like the ocean for knocking you around to help you remember that you’re only human.” He smiled at her again. “But most of the time I forget that they’re famous until I’m picking up some milk and see one of their faces on the cover of a magazine. The only time it bothers me is when I see something printed about one of them that isn’t true. Which, unfortunately, happens far too often.”
“That must be hard.”
“None of them are out there for the fame, but they’ve come to accept that it’s part of the dream they’re chasing. A rock star like my sister’s fiancé, Ford, could never hide out when there are stadiums full of fans around the world who love his music. So they deal with the fame, they handle the spotlight, and when we’re together we all forget about it for a little while.”
Since she’d already crossed a line, she decided she might as well stay there a little while longer. “Is that why you don’t usually do interviews? Because you’re afraid the press is going to twist your words around?”
“I’m not a musician or a movie star or a professional baseball player. I’m just a sailor who also makes boats. Anything I’ve got to say about sailing, someone could figure out for themselves by getting out on the water.”
She understood what he was saying, and yet she still couldn’t let it go, or keep her mouth shut. “I’m not sure I agree with you. I don’t know much about boats beyond what I’ve read about them for research, but from the pictures I’ve seen of the ones you’ve built, and getting to see the one in your boathouse, you’re obviously very talented. Just because you’re not acting or singing or hitting a baseball doesn’t make your gift any less special. Or any less fun to read about for all the people who will never get the chance to sail a boat from one continent to another.”
Caught up in making her point, she didn’t realize they’d pulled into a driveway in a suburban neighborhood until he turned off the ignition. As a child, her parents had encouraged her to say and do whatever felt right. It was a large part of the reason she’d had the guts to go after writing for a living when it would have been so much safer to get a nine-to-five job in a cubicle. But after allowing herself to be swept away had led to her being pregnant and alone, Grace had decided it would be better to rein in her natural—and wilder—urges.
She gave him a small and slightly rueful smile. “I can get a little carried away sometimes when I feel strongly about something.”
“Don’t ever apologize for your passion, Grace. Not to me or to anyone. Especially not when you have a way of making a guy look at things differently than he ever has before.”
Did he have any idea just how much she’d needed to hear that, especially now that her father wasn’t there anymore to remind her to keep taking risks? For the past ten years, her father had been her rock. Her cheerleader. Her main support system. She’d been able to tell him anything and had known that he would keep loving her no matter what, through thick and thin. She’d never imagined that he’d be gone by the time she had her first child. Or that seeing him in the way Mason smiled, in the deep blue of his eyes, would be so bittersweet.
When she looked back up at Dylan, the heat in his gaze made her lips tingle even though he hadn’t yet closed the small distance between them and kissed her…which she was almost positive he would have done if Mason hadn’t tossed his toy at the dashboard right then, barely missing their heads.
Relief that her son had saved her from herself—along with more regret over missing out on the kiss than she wanted to admit—washed over Grace as she quickly undid her seat belt and picked up the toy.
“If you don’t let me at least take the diaper bag this time,” Dylan said, “I’ll never hear the end of it from my mom.”
A few seconds later, she had Mason out of his car seat, Dylan had the heavy bag and the portable high chair, and the three of them were rushing through the rain to his parents’ front door. By the time they got to the covered porch, his mother was waiting for them with a big, welcoming smile.
“You must be Grace,” his mother said even as Dylan gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m Claudia and it’s so nice to meet you.”
Grace had expected to feel awkward, but Dylan’s mother had a way of putting people instantly at ease. “Thank you for having us over tonight, Claudia. This is my son, Mason.”
“Hello, Mason,” Claudia said, her eyes soft and warm as she looked at the baby. “Aren’t you a little cutie? Do you want to come inside and play with some of the toys that have been up in the attic for far too long?”
Right on cue, Mason gave one of his big, one-toothed smiles and reached for her. It was only the second time he’d ever gone to someone else—first to Dylan and now to his mother. What kind of spell did these Sullivans cast over everyone to draw them in so easily and so quickly?
Grace appreciated the way Claudia waited until she’d nodded that it was fine to take Mason into her arms. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be quite as nerve-racking as she’d expected. At least until Dylan put his hand on the small of her back as he guided her inside, following his mother into the kitchen.
Just that one small touch scorched through her entire body like a wildfire.
How was she going to make it through a private interview focused on sailing and boat-making, when all she could think about around him was sex?
“Your house is lovely, Claudia.”
Grace was surprised, in fact, by how much the Sullivans’ house reminded her of the one she’d grown up in. The pretty flowers in vases throughout, the family photos, and even the old dog sleeping on a pillow beneath the piano made it feel cozy. Well loved. Like home.
Seeing several pots on the stove and a large array of fruit and vegetables laid out by the cutting board, she said, “I should have realized you’d still be cooking. You don’t have to watch Mason.” Sure, it would be more difficult to conduct the interview with her son crawling around at their feet wanting to play and be entertained, but she’d find a way to make it work. Plus, she already knew it would be better if she and Dylan weren’t alone for too many long stretches, considering it had been hard enough to think straight in the car on the drive over with him sitting so close, even with Mason in the backseat.
But Claudia smiled and said, “I once put on a seven-course dinner while all five kids were running riot through the backyard and the kitchen. I’ve got this.”
And as Grace watched Dylan’s mother get down on the floor with Mason to show him how to use the little toy xylophone to make music and he gleefully started banging at the instrument while Dylan’s mother laughed delightedly at his antics, she had no doubt whatsoever that Claudia had things covered.
“Can I get you a glass of wine or a beer?” Dylan asked her.
She would kill for a glass of wine right now to calm her nerves. But alcohol was the last thing she needed when it was going to take every ounce of self-control she had to keep her walls sturdy and high. “Water would be perfect.”
Taking two bottles of water out of the fridge, he said, “There’s a covered porch out back where we can talk.”
“If you need me for anything, Claudia—”
His mother waved them away. “Go do your interview. Mason and I are going to be just fine, aren’t we, cutie?”
His gummy grin was all the answer Grace needed. At least to the question of whether her son would be safe and sound for the next hour or two without her.
As for herself, however—the truth was that as Dylan led her outside toward two seats on the back porch that were set up more with lovers in mind than an interview between strangers, Grace felt anything but safe. Wary, yes. But also undeniably attracted.
And more intrigued by Dylan than she’d been about anyone in a very, very long time.