CHAPTER FIVE

“Well, aren’t you the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” a female voice rang out from inside the house a while later. “Who do you belong to?”

Dylan grinned at Grace. “Sounds like my sister and her fiancé are here.” He stood and held out a hand for her. “Ready to meet the whole crew?”

Grace took a deep breath before putting her hand into his. “Sure.”

When she stood up, he was close. Closer than he’d been before now. For a few heady moments, she couldn’t pull her hand away, couldn’t stop her heart from beating way too fast.

“I shouldn’t leave my things out, just in case the rain blows in.”

His eyes moved from hers to her mouth, then back up again. “Good idea.”

How was it, she wondered as she tucked her notebook and recorder back inside her bag, that they could be saying nothing and yet so much at the same time? I shouldn’t want you, shouldn’t want this, was what she’d really meant. And she swore he’d answered her in the same way: It will be good, Grace, if you’ll just let it happen. So damned good.

She was shocked to see that it had been an hour and a half since they’d left Mason banging on the pots and pans in Claudia’s kitchen. Yes, she’d loved being out on the water that one time, enough that she’d made a pitch for a story to a sailing magazine, but listening to Dylan talk about sailing, and what it meant to him and other sailors, had quickly filled her with a longing to do more than just write about it.

The same longing had struck her earlier in the week when she’d been looking at the sailboat he was completing in his boathouse. Maybe it was because, from what Dylan had already told her, building a boat wasn’t too different from the way she’d taught herself to write. First by taking apart the articles that spoke to her and studying their structure. Then starting to build them on her own, word by word, paragraph by paragraph, page by page.

In any case, the more she learned about what he actually did all day, the more she couldn’t blame him for not bothering to pick up his phone. If she were building amazing sailboats, and then sailing them on the open sea, she wouldn’t bother, either.

“It’s a real skill to ask questions that get straight to the heart of things,” Dylan said as they headed for the kitchen. “Where did you learn to do that?”

She was amazed yet again by how easily Dylan gave compliments. Her ex had rarely complimented her on anything but her figure. In fact, now that she thought more about it, she and Richard hadn’t had many conversations about anything that really mattered. The truth was that they’d never had a true connection.

“My parents said that even when I was a little girl, I had a million questions about everything. Journalism was always a perfect fit for me, just like sailing is for you. But I have to say that for a guy who doesn’t like doing interviews, you made it really easy for me today.”

He held the door open for her and she saw a stunning woman down on the floor stacking blocks alongside Mason.

“Hi, I’m Mia. And your son is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I agree,” Grace said with a smile. “I’m Grace, and it’s nice to meet you. Thanks for keeping him so entertained.”

She looked up just then to see Ford Vincent walking toward her with his hand outstretched. Despite knowing the rock star might be here tonight with Mia, given that she was his fiancée, Grace still came this close to freezing up with shock.

“Hi.” Somehow she managed to get her hand into his without shaking or sweating or doing any number of other embarrassing things. Not, however, that she was rewarded for that with a reprieve, because literally a moment later, Tatiana Landon came into the room.

“Tatiana,” Dylan said, “this is Grace and her son, Mason.”

The movie star looked pleasantly surprised—delighted would be a better word for it, actually—by their presence. “It’s lovely to meet you. I can’t wait to hear all about how you and Dylan met. He never brings anyone to dinner.”

Oh no, they all assumed she was dating him. “Actually, we’re just—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Mason tossed a block across the room, nailing a man in a suit right in the knee.

She dashed over to pick it up, but the blindingly good-looking man beat her to it. He was smiling as he handed the block to her. “Your son has a great arm.”

“No kidding,” Dylan agreed, the grin in his voice clear without her needing to see it. “You should have seen Mason toss his toy in front of my boathouse earlier this week.”

The man raised his eyebrows at this tidbit before turning back to Grace and saying, “I’m Dylan’s brother Ian.”

She had never been comfortable as the center of attention and could feel her composure, which had been shaky at best a few minutes ago, rapidly shredding to pieces as they all stared at her, especially this brother whose gaze was just a bit more intense than that of the others.

“I’m so glad you and your son were able to come to dinner with all of us tonight.” Right on cue, Mason chucked another block at Ian, upon which he bent down to gently lob it back at Mason’s feet.

When Mason giggled with glee at having another new friend to play with, Claudia said, “Isn’t Mason great? I had the privilege of watching him for the past couple of hours while Grace and Dylan did their interview.”

Another couple walked into the kitchen. “Dylan actually agreed to do an interview?” asked the dark-haired man who looked so much like Dylan. “Has the apocalypse come?”