I Love How You Love Me(The Sullivans)(8)

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—”