He shrugged, making Mason giggle when he bounced slightly in Dylan’s arms. Bouncing the baby around more on purpose, he said, “Countless. Why do you ask?”
She looked between him and her son, her expression still wary…but also more than a little stunned, too. “I’m just surprised you said yes to me so quickly. Because I really do need to write this cover story about you. So if you’re only planning to mess around with me for a laugh—”
“I promise I’m not messing around with you. Not in the slightest.” He hoped that one day she’d look back on this conversation and realize that he’d been serious about her and her son even then. “You were right when you said I’d like the angle you’re going to take for the story. No one needs to read another story about the fastest way to hoist a spinnaker. But a story about a sailor’s heart? That’s what it’s really all about, whether you’re taking a Sunfish out on a Saturday afternoon or you’re racing an eight-million-dollar yacht for the World Cup.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for my question to come out like that.” He could see how tired she was now that she’d let her defenses down just a little bit. “Not when I really am grateful that you’re available to do the interview. I just need to be sure that you’re really on board with this.”
She didn’t need to say anything more for him to understand immediately that she’d been screwed over before and had a hard time trusting people when they gave her their word. Probably, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to guess, by the guy who had gotten her pregnant.
“I’m not a fan of phones,” he told her. “And I don’t much care for anything that falls under the category of running a business. But when it comes to giving my word to people? I was raised to stand by it. And I do, Grace. No matter what.”
For a few moments she stared at him as if she wasn’t sure whether it was safe to believe what he’d just said, before finally turning to head toward his desk again. By the time she returned from writing her address on the pad of paper, she was all business as she reached for Mason.
“We’ll get out of your hair now. See you Friday.”
It was nearly impossible to keep from dragging her against him for a kiss so that he could see her beautiful skin flush again. But just as he knew not to head a sailboat up into the wind before it was blowing hard enough to point him toward his true destination, he also knew better than to move too fast with Grace.
Not when something told him a far better plan would be to let both of them anticipate that kiss for the next several days, instead.
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.