“Amazing.” She reached out to run her hand over the wood before drawing back.
“Go ahead. These things are designed to withstand more than forty knots in an open sea. If it breaks when you put your hands on it,” he said with a laugh that drew a giggle out of her little boy, too, “I’m going to have a seriously upset buyer on my hands when the Coast Guard has to come pick him up. Want to touch it, too, Mason?”
Together, the three of them put their hands on the wood, warmed from the sun beaming in from the clear blue sky above.
“I’m Dylan Sullivan, by the way.”
Turning away from the boat, she said, “I’m Grace. Grace Adrian.”
She held out her hand and when he took it he heard her breath go—easily the sexiest sound he’d ever heard. “It’s nice to meet you, Grace. Really nice.” But then he frowned slightly. “Your name—it’s familiar for some reason. But I’d have remembered if we’d met before.”
“We haven’t met. I have called you several times, though.”
“Right, that’s where I know your name from. Sorry about not getting back to you. I’m not great with the phone.”
She gave him a look that he could easily read as No kidding, before saying, “I hope we didn’t interrupt you too badly this morning. I was just really hoping to talk with you for a few minutes. Mason was supposed to stay home today with a babysitter, but she didn’t show up, and now we’re in the middle of his nap time, which is why he’s a little cranky.”
“Cranky looks good on him. And now that you’re here, what can I help you with?”
“You’re right,” he said slowly as he let Mason take his ball cap off again to chew on the brim. “I don’t normally do interviews. But for you,” he said with a smile that he hoped would help settle her worries down, “I’m happy to make an exception. How tight is your deadline?”
She’d looked incredibly relieved when he’d told her he would do the story and cover. But her relief quickly shifted to a slight grimace as she said, “This story is on a pretty tight deadline, I’m afraid. They’ll need it and the pictures in four weeks.”
“I’ve got to head out to ferry a boat to a friend in Portland in an hour, but I’ll be back Friday afternoon.” He also had an upcoming trip to Australia for a major yacht race in a week and a half, but he planned to get to know Grace—and Mason—a heck of a lot better between now and then. “My mom will be making dinner on Friday for the family. Come with me and we can get started then.”
She blinked at him in confusion. “You want me to come to your mother’s house for our first interview?”
“You and Mason,” he clarified. Because even though he wasn’t going to make the mistake of freaking her out with his intentions, he also couldn’t resist speeding things up a bit by tossing her into the deep end with his family. Dylan just couldn’t see waiting…not when he knew. “If we get there early, she can watch the baby while you interview me. Unless, of course,” he deliberately added to confirm the one thing he needed to be absolutely certain about, “your husband or boyfriend can watch Mason while we talk.”
“It’s just us.”
Knowing it couldn’t be easy to raise a baby alone, he tried not to give a whoop of delight that she was single.
“Are you sure your mother will want to watch a little boy she’s never met before? Don’t you need to ask her first?”
“No,” he said with a laugh. “I definitely don’t need to ask her if she wants to hang with an awesome kid for a couple of hours. There are few things she loves more. Plus, this way you can ask my family questions for your story.” He wasn’t usually a steamroller with women—he’d never needed to be when they’d always come to him. But with Grace, he needed to know exactly when he’d see her again. “I’ll come pick you guys up at four on Friday?”
Grace stared at him for a few seconds, her expression unreadable, before she finally said, “Okay, that will be fine. And thank you for agreeing to work with me on this story. I really appreciate it.”
He didn’t need her thanks. Her mouth against his, however, he would gladly take. But since he knew he’d already pushed her enough for one day, he simply said, “I’m looking forward to it, Grace.” He liked the sound of her name, the way it felt on his lips. “There’s a pad of paper on my desk behind you so that you can give me your address and phone number.”
She moved toward the desk against the far wall, and he enjoyed every second of watching her hips sway as she walked in her heels. But halfway to his desk, she stopped and turned to face him. “How many times have you refused to be interviewed for stories like this in the past?”