I Love How You Love Me(The Sullivans)(32)

“Would coffee help?”

“Hopefully, yes.”

They both walked the short distance to his small corner kitchen, and while he brewed some seriously great-smelling coffee, she set up her recorder, pad of paper, and pen on the small table...and tried with all her might to stop thinking about how desperately she wanted to jump back into his arms.

He brought her a mug and she nearly groaned aloud with pleasure at how delicious it was. “Where did you learn to make coffee this good?”

“Good, strong coffee is the best way to wake crew members up for their watch.”

For the next hour or so, she asked him much more practical nuts-and-bolts questions about sailing and boats than she’d asked him on Friday. Finally, she returned to something he’d said about continuing to teach new sailors the ropes. “I can see how much satisfaction there must be in building a boat, and I can imagine how exciting races must be. But why do you continue to teach when I’m guessing those hours would be better spent building a pricey sailboat for someone on your waiting list?”

“Early on, when I was trying to make a go of boat building, taking people out for a long weekend was an easy, fun way to bring in funding. I’ve always enjoyed sailing with a crew. Probably comes from having four siblings and more than a dozen cousins,” he said with a grin. “The people who come out to learn with me are always an odd mix. Maybe one’s a baker. Another’s an accountant. A third is a painter. A fourth is a cop. They usually don’t have much experience with sailing, but it doesn’t matter because all of them—all of us—share the same passion. And by the time we make it back into the harbor, they’re hooked.”

“What do you tell them before you head out? What are your hard and fast rules for sailing?”

“There’s just one: When it’s your turn to stand watch, you show up on time. It’s the only thing I’m an inflexible tyrant about because I’ve seen what happens when the watch system breaks down and people lose vital hours of sleep. Fatigue will kill you faster at sea than any storm will.”

Grace was reminded yet again of the way Dylan had shifted on Saturday night from gentle to dominant, from sweet to dangerous. Obviously, he’d seen how much she liked it, but she also now knew that the sinfully sexy man who had ripped her panties off was just as much a part of him as the softhearted man who loved making her baby laugh. She could easily imagine him shifting from easygoing to no-bullshit in the blink of an eye if he thought anyone was putting his crew at risk out at sea. He was a natural-born protector.

“You really don’t have any other rules?”

“I teach my clients navigation and heavy-weather sailing. How to plan a passage. But mostly, we just sail. That’s how I learned best, not by listening to someone talk about technique, but by keeping the boat moving, one way or another. If the wind is from ahead, haul the sails in. If the wind is from the side or behind, let them out. It isn’t much harder than that.”

“You help make people’s dreams a reality,” she mused aloud. “That’s why you do it, isn’t it? Because you had that same dream once.”

“I still do. I’ve never lost my sense of awe at what the ocean is capable of, not even after hundreds of midnight watches. As far as I’m concerned, the magic of a night sea is one that can only be matched, and transcended, by one thing.” He paused and held her gaze for a long moment. “By love.”

When heat—and emotion—immediately kicked up between them, Grace did what she could to bank it for the time being and hold her focus on her interview. Later, she knew, they would shift from professional to personal. But for now, she needed to be no-bullshit, too.

“I’m assuming your students have all come back in one piece?”

“The ocean has a way of rising up to test your resolve right when you think you’ve got everything dialed in. But even though there’ve been a couple of close calls here and there, I’m proud to say that my crews have not only come back in one piece, but many of them have also gone on to do some pretty major cruises in their own sailboats for months at a time.”

“So then what do you teach them if not technique?”

“To stay flexible and to be willing to change tactics as conditions dictate, whether it’s challenging weather or equipment failure. A good sailor knows that if the action you’re taking isn’t working, you try something else. And, most important, to enjoy the hell out of what you’re doing, because every single moment is a gift.”

Grace had thought interviewing Dylan would be a job, nothing more. But again and again he touched her heart with something he said, something he did. “Staying flexible and enjoying every moment are good rules not just for sailing, but for life,” she agreed.

After all, wasn’t that exactly what she’d done when she’d learned she was pregnant and would be raising her son on her own? She’d changed tactics and then made sure to enjoy the gift of every moment with Mason.

“My family taught me those rules,” he told her.

“Out on a sailboat?”

He shook his head. “My father lost his job when I was pretty young. He was out of work for long enough that Ian ended up stepping up to keep things afloat. I was too young to be much help to anyone, but I watched. I learned. And I saw that the sacrifices everyone made for each other were more than worth it.”