by Andre, Bella
Her head spun with the taste of him, her blood heated with desire, and her chest clenched with desperate need. She wanted more—so much more that she was flat-out stunned by her need for him—and, just for a few moments more, couldn’t stop herself from taking their kiss even deeper as a low hum of pleasure sounded in her throat.
Both of them were breathing hard by the time she managed to get a tenuous grip on herself and draw back. She’d never seen eyes so dark, so filled with desire. Eyes that watched her so carefully, as if he was afraid she’d spook. But after all she’d been through over the past couple of years, she decided she would let herself have this one perfect kiss. And she wouldn’t regret it.
Even if they could never have a second.
Desperate not to make a big deal out of it, she tried to joke, “If you sail as well as you kiss, no wonder you’re a boating legend.”
His hands were still on her hips as he said, “You’ll find out soon.”
“You want to take me sailing?” The thought thrilled and worried her in equal measure. She knew he was right, that she should experience for herself being on one of his boats with him. Unfortunately, something told her that it was going to be really, really difficult to keep her secrets—and Mason’s—their own while out on the ocean with Dylan.
“You can’t write this story without sailing with me at least once.”
“Once I understand more about what you do and about your boats, I’ll join you for a sail. But it would probably be best if it took place as our final interview.” That way she’d have plenty of time to brace herself against the power of the cockpit confessional.
“Would that really be best?” he asked. “To wait that long?”
She knew he wasn’t just talking about sailing anymore, even as she said, “I really think it would.” The easiest thing would have been to lean in for another kiss. Easy and oh so good. But she’d stopped being able to take the easy road a year and a half ago. “Good night, Dylan.”
His hands tightened on her hips for a split second, sending shivers through her entire body before he finally let her go. “Good night.”
And the craziest thing of all was that, despite knowing she needed to keep a tight rein on her heart, Grace couldn’t remember ever having had a better one.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Few things, few places, were better than a sunny Saturday morning at the harbor. Families gathered to take out the boats that had been docked all week, dogs barked and played, people’s laughter skipped along the glassy surface of the water.
Dylan was back from a quick sail around the Sound by nine and had been working since then on the twenty-four-foot sloop. All the boats he’d built had been a labor of love, but none more than this one. He’d told his family the boat was for a buyer out of San Francisco. But it was actually a surprise for his brothers, his sister, their mates and their kids. He was more than happy to have them use his boats any time they wanted to, but he wanted them to have a sailboat of their own. One where he’d personally laid every plank, pounded every nail. He’d turned down several lucrative boatbuilding contracts in the past couple of months and would happily have turned down more if he hadn’t been at the tail end of the build now.
He had rock ’n’ roll blasting—courtesy of his new brother-in-law, Ford Vincent—while the sun streamed in through the boathouse doors and the open skylights overhead. Today was especially sweaty work. Sweaty and satisfying. Just like sex, he thought with a grin as he wiped his face dry with the T-shirt he’d taken off a while ago.
Man, that kiss last night...
Dylan had to stop and take a few seconds to relive the moment when Grace’s lips had touched his. Everything had gone so hot so fast that he’d had to scramble to catch up. He’d wanted to possess, to brand, to never let go of her soft curves. If he could have lingered over their first kiss, he would have. Instead, as her body strained against his, with only his mouth on hers, he’d ravaged her.
And she’d done exactly the same thing to him.
For as hot as he’d been from the heat of the day and sun pouring in over him, thinking about Grace now had Dylan burning up enough that he needed to grab a Coke and stand on the dock for a few minutes to let the breeze cool him down.
He took in the sun glinting off the water and the boats, the sound of the seals barking playfully at each other, the smell of sunscreen and sea air as a mother and daughter headed out into the bay on a Laser. It was a small boat compared to the yachts owned by the rich and famous of the Pacific Northwest, but it was a classic. A Laser was the first boat his dad had sailed with him. Max Sullivan loved the water, but he wasn’t a natural sailor, even if he understood the technicalities of sailing to the finest detail. It was a windier day than a couple of beginners should have been out in, but Dylan had learned fast and had kept them from turtling.
It had been a thrill handling the rigging, learning to tack, holding the tiller, flying across the water. Even better when it started to turn, when he’d had to save them from going over. He’d always enjoyed an easy sail, one where he could just stretch out in the sun and let his mind wander, but right from that first sail he’d known that it was easy to sail well in perfect conditions; it was when the ride started getting rocky that the stronger wills rose to victory.
Even after the kiss he and Grace had shared, Dylan knew she was sure nothing could work between them. Tonight’s trip to the aquarium would be another step in proving to Grace that she could trust him not only to be her and her son’s friend, but hopefully so much more, too.
He was determined to prove this to her, one perfect kiss at a time...
He might have felt a little bad about throwing her into the deep end last night with his family were it not for the facts that (a) they were awesome, and (b) if all went well with them she would be getting to know his brothers and sisters and parents anyway, so why not do it sooner rather than later? And it had been really good to see how well she fit in with them all despite her initial nerves. In fact, while she’d been helping his mother in the kitchen for a few minutes, Rafe had pulled him aside.
“I never thought that when you finally fell for a woman, it would be one with a kid you’d have to be home for,” his brother had said. “But there’s something about Grace—and her baby is pretty cute, too. You thinking about hanging up the sails for a while?”
“Families sail around the world all the time,” had been Dylan’s reply. “Until then, it’ll be great to be home more.”
Rafe’s eyebrows had gone up, then. “You’re really serious about her, aren’t you?” When Dylan had nodded, Rafe had asked, “How long has this been brewing?”
Dylan had grinned and said, “We met on Tuesday,” then went to help Grace and Mason get seated at the dining table while his brother’s head spun. It was always fun to throw his siblings off, especially over something they’d never seen coming.
He was just heading back inside when his phone rang. The sight of his parents’ number on the caller ID screen made him break his usual rule to ignore it when he was working.
“Dylan, sweetie,” his mother said, a smile in her voice, “I’m so glad you picked up.”
“For you, always. That was some Friday night dinner, wasn’t it?”
His mother gave a happy sigh. “It was just wonderful. Beyond wonderful.” He could tell that she was tearing up even now. “Can you believe how sneaky your brother and sister are, cooking up a surprise wedding between them?”
“Sure can. In fact, one time they—” Dylan reconsidered spilling the beans at the last second. “Actually, never mind. It was twenty years ago, but you’re probably still better off not knowing. I wouldn’t want you to have to ground the newlywed. Especially after she and Ian just pulled off the wedding coup of the century.”
When Dylan had called Mia and Ford earlier to congratulate them again, they had been on their way to the airport for an impromptu Hawaiian honeymoon. They’d brought the champagne and roses that he’d sent over for their private
plane. Still, for as much as she’d loved the wedding, he knew that wasn’t why his mom was calling.
“I absolutely adored Grace and Mason.”
“I knew you would. Especially when you saw how cute her son was.”
“You five were the cutest babies I’d ever seen, but I have to tell you, Mason slipped right up there into the running last night. He’s so sweet and curious and loves meeting and playing with people. And I also noticed that he was particularly partial to you, with the way he kept climbing up into your arms.”
“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.
