She’d taken that first scary step toward something real by letting his brother Adam know that they were no longer just interviewer/interviewee, but were dating. That had been frightening enough. Still, she’d told herself that just because they were officially dating didn’t mean they wouldn’t still be taking things slow.
But tonight she could no longer deny what she really felt—and had felt almost from the first moment that Dylan had taken her son in his arms to calm his crying. A love that had already grown big. Strong. And undeniable.
She’d been close, so close, to saying the three little words aloud on the phone tonight. But something had held her back at the last second. The fear that once she let herself believe, truly believe what they were building could last, it would all be ripped away from her.
To let herself love Dylan Sullivan with all her heart and then lose him?
Oh God, it hurt even to think of it.
She’d been a wreck after her ex had dumped her, but it hadn’t been because she was heartsick. It had been because she was disgusted with herself for being stupid enough to fall for his act. And after she’d vowed to protect both Mason’s and her own heart, she’d told herself the two of them didn’t need anyone else, that they were already a perfect little unit. That determined independence had gotten them across the country and settled into a new life in Seattle.
But now…what if she truly opened up the door she’d locked down so tightly a year and a half ago? What if she decided to stop being so wary? To trust that Dylan meant it when he said he saw the three of them together forever? And to finally let him in so that her tight little unit of two became three?
Of course, she already knew that opening a door for Dylan Sullivan actually meant pulling down an entire wall for his whole family. A big, wonderful family who had taken them in from the very first moment.
Grace had been raised by two wonderful parents who had always taught her to look for the good in people. Yes, she’d been burned. Badly burned by her ex and the other Bentleys. But they hadn’t destroyed her or Mason. Hadn’t even come close.
She’d trusted before, and with Dylan’s help—and his love—she was learning to trust again.
She nearly called him back, but she wanted to see his face when she finally said the three words she knew he’d been hoping to hear, wanted his arms around her when she risked everything by saying I love you.
* * *
Dylan’s body was loose after the hottest phone sex in history, but his mind was racing so he grabbed a beer and stepped out on the deck of the waterfront condo in which his friend was putting him up for the night before they got out on the racing yacht.
All day long, he’d been thinking about Grace. When would she accept her feelings? When would she trust him not to ever hurt her in any way? And when could he finally claim both Grace and Mason as his own?
He’d called her without video because he’d wanted the intimacy of fantasy, the thrill of pretend, to be what drove them both over the edge. But even more than he’d wanted to be there with her tonight watching her skin flush and her eyes darken with desire as he made love to her, he wanted to see his ring on her finger. He wanted Mason to officially be a Sullivan. And he wanted to know that both of them were forever protected from anyone in the past who might try to rise up to hurt them.
He’d texted his brothers to set up another meeting as soon as he returned from the race. This time, everyone would come with what they’d learned about the Bentleys to work out their game plan. Because in the same way that Dylan had had the sixth sense that his life was going to change right before Grace and Mason had shown up at his boathouse, his gut was now telling him that the wind was shifting again, quite possibly bringing a tornado this time.
Dylan looked out over the Sydney Harbor, one he’d sailed many times in the past few years. He was looking forward to getting out on the water and breaking another record this year. But he was looking forward to getting back to Grace and Mason—the woman and child who were already and would forever be his—a hell of a lot more.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Grace had planned on working for a couple more hours the previous night after getting off the phone with Dylan. But, utterly and blissfully exhausted, all she could manage was to crawl into bed to rewind and replay every moment of their super-sexy phone call.
When Mason had awakened her this morning with his usual cheer, she’d felt just as happy. It’s because both of us are in love with Dylan, she thought as she lifted him out of his crib with a smooch. Every moment they’d spent with him was full of joy, full of laughter.
And full of love.
She was tempted, again, to call Dylan so that he would finally know the truth of what was in her heart. But with his race starting today, and the seventeen-hour time difference, she probably wouldn’t be able to reach him. Plus, it would be so much better to look into his eyes and hold him close when she told him how much she loved him. That she’d never loved anyone the way she loved him. That he made every day better and better.
And that right when she thought love had ended, it had only just begun.
She changed Mason, then brought him out into the kitchen and clipped him into his high chair to feed him breakfast. He mowed through mashed peas, carrots, and a huge handful of Cheerios. When he stopped eating and began to toss the leftover cereal at his stuffed animal in the toy box in the corner of the living room, she quickly cleaned him up with a wet wipe and then let him loose to play.
Playing that quickly turned into more awe-inspiring walking.
It took her longer than she expected to finally sit down at her computer to check her email, where she found a message waiting from her editor. Her deadline was still two weeks away, but he wanted to see something soon so that the art department could begin working on the layout of both the article and the cover, for which they would shoot the photos upon Dylan’s return from Australia.
Grace’s heart immediately started knocking around in her chest. She’d never been this nervous about something she’d written before, even during the past year and a half when it had been a struggle to get the words down. Writing about Dylan was so personal, so close to her heart, that she wanted it to be perfect. Needed it to be the best thing she’d ever written.
Dylan had augmented her great research with the best one-on-one interviews a journalist could dream of from her subject. All of the pieces for this story should have been there. But when she opened up the file again and read through it while Mason banged cars together on the floor, then toddled over them like a baby Godzilla, she couldn’t deny that something was still missing.
She replied to her editor’s email to let him know that she would be sending something over very soon, then settled Mason into his bouncy seat in the bathroom and took a quick shower. With Mia’s surprise party that afternoon, buying a present for it, and figuring out what to wear, she wouldn’t have time to work on her story again until tonight. Considering she’d redone the beginning a dozen times already, it was probably a good thing that she was getting away from her computer for a while so that she didn’t butcher the story by rewriting all the life out of it.
Because if there was one thing that she knew for sure, it was that her story about Dylan Sullivan should be as fun and as full of joy as the man himself. Anything less wouldn’t do him—or what he’d accomplished—justice.