Soon the book would be put down, Mason would be in his crib, and there would only be the two of them.

Finally, Dylan shut the book and looked down at the little boy sleeping so trustingly, so peacefully, in the crook of one of his strong arms. When Grace saw the emotion in his eyes, she felt her own grow wet.

She’d tried so hard to be careful, to protect both Mason and herself from having a man drop into their lives and then drop out on a whim. But how could she ever have been prepared for a man like Dylan Sullivan? For his heart-stopping, infectious grins. For the serious way he took his boatbuilding work and his life’s passion for sailing. For his strength, both in the way he used his hands and muscles to make a huge boat take shape, and in his personal convictions. For the gentle way he held her and Mason. For the way his family had taken in her and her son without so much as a pause. And, most of all, for the way he continually made her face her fears, one after the other. She hadn’t nearly faced them all yet, but at least she’d finally stopped feeling like a shell of the old Grace Adrian.

“We never make it to the end of the book, either.” She ran her hand over her son’s soft hair. “I’ll put him in his crib.”

“Could I?”

Her heart should have been used to the way it always thudded like a rocket against her breastbone whenever Dylan was near, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to being with someone so selfless, so full of kindness—all of it wrapped up in the sexiest package imaginable.

She’d already let her son and Dylan laugh together, little manly in-jokes that had clearly filled her son’s heart with pure joy. And she’d just let Dylan read Mason’s bedtime story with her little boy on his lap. Shouldn’t she draw a line—shouldn’t she remind both of them that for all he’d played the part of Mason’s father all night, he wasn’t?

The way Dylan softly said her name told her he’d just read every one of her thoughts and could clearly see how torn she was about letting him even more deeply into their lives. Perhaps it shouldn’t be such a big deal who put her son into his crib, but for Grace, that final kiss good night was a symbol of parenthood that she’d earned not just in every moment that she’d carried Mason inside of her body, but during every day of the past ten months when everything she’d done had been for him.

“I would protect Mason with my life,” Dylan said softly. “If he ever needs me for any reason, I’ll drop everything for him.”

And that was when she knew she’d never have to worry ever again about her son where Dylan was concerned. Because even if the gorgeous man sitting beside her on the couch grew tired of her, she now knew with utter certainty that he’d never walk away from Mason. Her romance with Dylan had absolutely nothing to do with the bond the two of them had created with one another.

Her relief was so swift and heady that the smile she gave him was completely genuine. “I’d love it if you’d help put him to bed.”

They walked together through the small living room and into the bedroom that she and Mason shared. His crib was in the corner, the stuffed zoo animals on the mobile above it sent dancing in the wake of the door opening. The changing table was beside it, loaded up with diapers and skin cream and wipes.

Most men, she imagined, wouldn’t be particularly interested in baby things. But she could see how charmed Dylan was by the scene. At least, right before he turned to look at her bed and then at her as though he couldn’t stop picturing the two of them having wild and crazy sex in it.

She’d been thinking of anything but sex when she’d bought the double bed and the sheets for it upon moving to Seattle. But suddenly, she knew she’d never be able to look at her bed in that sexless way again.

“Lucky guy,” he said as he lowered her son carefully into his crib with a soft kiss to his forehead, “getting to share a bedroom with the prettiest girl in the world.”

As soon as Mason felt the mattress beneath him, he turned onto his stomach and curled into a little ball with his butt up in the air. “That’s his favorite way to sleep,” she whispered to Dylan as she bent over the crib and gave Mason a kiss good night. “I love you, sweet pea.”

Dylan reached for her hand and slid his fingers through hers before whispering, “You’re lucky, too. So damned lucky to have him.”

Any other guy she dated would probably have been beyond irritated that she shared a bedroom with her kid, but Dylan wasn’t like anyone else, was he?

“I know,” she agreed.

Mason’s eyes came half-open, and he peered at them as if trying to figure out whether it really was bedtime or if he should get up again to play with his new favorite playmate, so she quickly led Dylan out of the bedroom.

He drew her into his arms as soon as the door closed behind them with a soft click and she had checked the monitor in the living room to make sure it was turned on. “I had a great time with you tonight. With both of you.” His dark gaze was far more intense than his words would have indicated. “And I’m really glad you let me read his bedtime story tonight and put him to bed.”

“I had a really, really good time, too. Just like always. I’m so glad you were here with us tonight.”

“I am, too.”

“Watching Mason take his first steps completely erased how sick I felt over what you told me at the museum.”

“It helped me, too,” he told her. “More than you know.”