I Love How You Love Me
Page 30
Thankfully, though, instead of simply walking away, she reached up to put her hand on his face and then went on her tippy-toes in her heels to press her mouth to his in a soft kiss. She was smiling when she pulled back. “‘Bye.”
* * *
“I knew when you called us together last night that things were serious,” Adam said, “but seeing you two together today? Love at first sight has clearly struck again. It’s like an epidemic in this family.”
Dylan only grinned. “You know what they say—the longer you hold out, the harder you fall. Which means you’re going to be dust when it happens to you.”
“Nope,” Adam insisted. “At least one of us has to keep having fun. Do you know what you’re doing, gunning for a ready-made family with Grace and Mason?”
Adam might think he was happy with his parade of one-night stands who had nothing of substance to say outside of the bedroom, but his brother didn’t have a damn clue what he was missing. No-strings fun got real old, real fast.
Grace’s beauty, her innate sensuality, had been what had drawn Dylan in at first. And every time they touched, he knew how perfectly matched they were as man and woman. But it was her resilience and strength that had solidified his knowledge that she was the right woman to go the distance with. He’d grown up with a strong woman leading their family, and he couldn’t imagine settling for anything less than the example their mother had provided. Grace was everything he could ever have wanted. Everything he could ever have wished for.
“If there was a chance that she’d agree to marry me today, I’d jump at it.”
Adam studied him for a moment before nodding. “She makes you happy. A different kind of happy than you’ve always been.”
“Trust me, you’ll understand once it happens to you.”
Deliberately ignoring that last statement, Adam said, “While nearly walking in on the two of you going at it was fun, I’m here because I’ve got a favor to ask. Turns out the city is planning to tear down the old Maritime Museum to rebuild something flashy and modern.”
Dylan frowned. “I thought that had been tabled for the time being so that more people could weigh in.”
“Not according to what I just heard this morning from a friend on the board.”
“The place needs a hell of a lot of work, but there’s major history in that building.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going to convince them to let me restore it instead. Which is where you come in. You not only speak their language, but you’ve built boats for half the people on the board. They’re having a cocktail event in a couple of days. It would be great if you and Grace could come.”
“I’m in, and I’ll check with Grace,” Dylan said. “In return, I could use an extra pair of hands putting the final coat of urethane on the boat.”
“Man, this sloop is a beauty,” Adam said, already rolling up his sleeves to help. “You’ve built some great boats, but I think this one might be your finest yet. Your client is one lucky S.O.B.”
Dylan grinned, said, “I agree,” and for the next few hours enjoyed working side by side with his brother on a boat that he had no idea was already his.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Grace wrote like crazy the next day while Mason napped. She hadn’t yet finished transcribing yesterday’s interview with Dylan, but she wanted to make some forward progress, so she started writing. The saying went that it was easier to edit a page with words on it, rather than a blank one, and doing the bulk of her writing while Mason slept meant she’d gotten used to creativity on command. Unfortunately, ninety minutes later, as she reread what she’d written so far, she wasn’t particularly impressed with any of it.
Maybe she simply needed to get up from her computer for a little while. She went into the kitchen to pour herself another cup of coffee, but as she brought it to her lips she realized she didn’t want it. It was the same with the trusty Hershey’s Kisses she kept in the freezer. A little chocolate melting on her tongue wouldn’t do anything to cure her restlessness, or a mind that was jumping around.
It wasn’t creativity on command that was messing with her productivity. Nor was the problem the fairly tight deadline for the cover story. It was the fact that her head—and body—were still reeling from being with Dylan yesterday. From the risks they’d taken…and how much she’d loved every second of taking those risks, even if she shouldn’t have, and they’d nearly been caught naked in each other’s arms by his brother.
She’d been spinning from Dylan’s taste, from everything he’d said both during the interview and then after, when her clothes were coming off and his were, too. Now, she forced herself to admit the real reason she hadn’t wanted to transcribe the interview today: She’d been afraid of what hearing his voice would do to her. Of what it would make her feel.
Because she was already feeling so much. Too much.
Grace had never fallen so fast for anyone. Never thought it was possible to begin to care so deeply for someone so quickly—or to crave him so wholly—especially when she, of all people, should know better than to lose her head, or her heart, over another handsome, charismatic man.
Only, even as she thought it, she knew she wasn’t being fair to Dylan. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he was powerful. But he was so much more than just that. He was fun. He was sweet. He was talented. He was devoted to his family. He was adorable with Mason. And he wanted to protect them both.
Yesterday in his boathouse, when she’d taken him the same way he’d taken her, she’d hoped that giving him pleasure would help her feel more in control. Less off-balance. But it hadn’t worked. Not in the slightest, given that she’d left his boathouse as far off-balance as she’d ever been.
Mostly because she couldn’t stop rethinking everything—everything she’d been so sure about since Mason. Namely that she had to be strong all by herself. And that she had to pay for her stupidity with her ex by always doing the safe thing, by remaining in perfect control forevermore.
Knowing Mason would be up soon, and that her deadline wasn’t going anywhere regardless of how twisted up she felt inside, she was sitting back down behind her computer when she knocked her notebook to the floor. Reaching for it, she realized it had fallen open to a William Shakespeare quote from Much Ado About Nothing.
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
* * *
“I knew when you called us together last night that things were serious,” Adam said, “but seeing you two together today? Love at first sight has clearly struck again. It’s like an epidemic in this family.”
Dylan only grinned. “You know what they say—the longer you hold out, the harder you fall. Which means you’re going to be dust when it happens to you.”
“Nope,” Adam insisted. “At least one of us has to keep having fun. Do you know what you’re doing, gunning for a ready-made family with Grace and Mason?”
Adam might think he was happy with his parade of one-night stands who had nothing of substance to say outside of the bedroom, but his brother didn’t have a damn clue what he was missing. No-strings fun got real old, real fast.
Grace’s beauty, her innate sensuality, had been what had drawn Dylan in at first. And every time they touched, he knew how perfectly matched they were as man and woman. But it was her resilience and strength that had solidified his knowledge that she was the right woman to go the distance with. He’d grown up with a strong woman leading their family, and he couldn’t imagine settling for anything less than the example their mother had provided. Grace was everything he could ever have wanted. Everything he could ever have wished for.
“If there was a chance that she’d agree to marry me today, I’d jump at it.”
Adam studied him for a moment before nodding. “She makes you happy. A different kind of happy than you’ve always been.”
“Trust me, you’ll understand once it happens to you.”
Deliberately ignoring that last statement, Adam said, “While nearly walking in on the two of you going at it was fun, I’m here because I’ve got a favor to ask. Turns out the city is planning to tear down the old Maritime Museum to rebuild something flashy and modern.”
Dylan frowned. “I thought that had been tabled for the time being so that more people could weigh in.”
“Not according to what I just heard this morning from a friend on the board.”
“The place needs a hell of a lot of work, but there’s major history in that building.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going to convince them to let me restore it instead. Which is where you come in. You not only speak their language, but you’ve built boats for half the people on the board. They’re having a cocktail event in a couple of days. It would be great if you and Grace could come.”
“I’m in, and I’ll check with Grace,” Dylan said. “In return, I could use an extra pair of hands putting the final coat of urethane on the boat.”
“Man, this sloop is a beauty,” Adam said, already rolling up his sleeves to help. “You’ve built some great boats, but I think this one might be your finest yet. Your client is one lucky S.O.B.”
Dylan grinned, said, “I agree,” and for the next few hours enjoyed working side by side with his brother on a boat that he had no idea was already his.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Grace wrote like crazy the next day while Mason napped. She hadn’t yet finished transcribing yesterday’s interview with Dylan, but she wanted to make some forward progress, so she started writing. The saying went that it was easier to edit a page with words on it, rather than a blank one, and doing the bulk of her writing while Mason slept meant she’d gotten used to creativity on command. Unfortunately, ninety minutes later, as she reread what she’d written so far, she wasn’t particularly impressed with any of it.
Maybe she simply needed to get up from her computer for a little while. She went into the kitchen to pour herself another cup of coffee, but as she brought it to her lips she realized she didn’t want it. It was the same with the trusty Hershey’s Kisses she kept in the freezer. A little chocolate melting on her tongue wouldn’t do anything to cure her restlessness, or a mind that was jumping around.
It wasn’t creativity on command that was messing with her productivity. Nor was the problem the fairly tight deadline for the cover story. It was the fact that her head—and body—were still reeling from being with Dylan yesterday. From the risks they’d taken…and how much she’d loved every second of taking those risks, even if she shouldn’t have, and they’d nearly been caught naked in each other’s arms by his brother.
She’d been spinning from Dylan’s taste, from everything he’d said both during the interview and then after, when her clothes were coming off and his were, too. Now, she forced herself to admit the real reason she hadn’t wanted to transcribe the interview today: She’d been afraid of what hearing his voice would do to her. Of what it would make her feel.
Because she was already feeling so much. Too much.
Grace had never fallen so fast for anyone. Never thought it was possible to begin to care so deeply for someone so quickly—or to crave him so wholly—especially when she, of all people, should know better than to lose her head, or her heart, over another handsome, charismatic man.
Only, even as she thought it, she knew she wasn’t being fair to Dylan. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he was powerful. But he was so much more than just that. He was fun. He was sweet. He was talented. He was devoted to his family. He was adorable with Mason. And he wanted to protect them both.
Yesterday in his boathouse, when she’d taken him the same way he’d taken her, she’d hoped that giving him pleasure would help her feel more in control. Less off-balance. But it hadn’t worked. Not in the slightest, given that she’d left his boathouse as far off-balance as she’d ever been.
Mostly because she couldn’t stop rethinking everything—everything she’d been so sure about since Mason. Namely that she had to be strong all by herself. And that she had to pay for her stupidity with her ex by always doing the safe thing, by remaining in perfect control forevermore.
Knowing Mason would be up soon, and that her deadline wasn’t going anywhere regardless of how twisted up she felt inside, she was sitting back down behind her computer when she knocked her notebook to the floor. Reaching for it, she realized it had fallen open to a William Shakespeare quote from Much Ado About Nothing.
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
