Men are deceivers ever,

One foot in sea and one on shore,

To one thing constant never.

Dylan, she already knew, would never willingly deceive her, would never reel her in just for a laugh. But at his core he was a sailor. One whom she doubted would ever be as happy on land as he was out on the sea. Sailing was considered to be the great escape. And after all, wasn’t that when Dylan had turned to sailing—when his father had lost his job, times had been rough for his family, and it had become his passion, as well?

And yet, at the same time, how could she forget what he’d said yesterday during their second interview: “The magic of a night sea is one that can only be matched, and transcended, by one thing. By love.”

As if Mason knew that his mother was desperate for a distraction from thoughts that were careening from one end of her mind to the other, he woke up from his nap. After a quick diaper change, she gathered up a snack, a bottle, and a change of clothes and put them all in the bottom of his stroller.

“What do you say you and I head out to the park and let some fresh air clear our heads?”

Her son’s eyes lit up at the word park just as her phone rang. When she saw Dylan’s name on the screen, she knew she lit up in exactly the same way.

She should probably let it ring, give herself a little space to keep thinking things through. But from the first, Dylan had been a gift she hadn’t been able to deny herself. Or her son, whom she’d seen laugh more with him than with anyone else.

“I was sitting here missing you and Mason,” Dylan told her when she picked up, “so I thought I’d call.” Mason giggled as she handed him his stuffed giraffe and accidentally knocked him in the nose with its fluffy tail. “Your kid has the best laugh.”

“He really does, doesn’t he?”

“He gets it from his beautiful mother.”

It felt as though Dylan knew every secret code to unlock all the locked-down parts of her heart. And even when she knew she should make sure the two of them stuck to slow, it was the last thing she wanted—and not just because every kiss, every caress he gave her felt so good. Just being with Dylan made her happy.

Happier than she’d been in a very long time.

“We’re going to the playground if you want to take a little break.”

“The playground sounds like the perfect place to celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” She quickly guessed, “Are you done with the boat?”

“Adam helped me with a few finishing touches last night.”

“He’s going to be so thrilled when he finds out it’s his. When are you going to tell them all?”

“Soon. Once I return from my trip to Australia, everyone else should be back in Seattle again, too.”

“You’re going to Australia?” She realized, too late, that she sounded like a girlfriend trying to keep track of her boyfriend’s schedule.

“I leave Thursday for a seven-hundred-mile yacht race out of Sydney. I’ll only be gone a week, but I’m going to miss you and Mason like crazy, Grace. If I hadn’t promised my friend a year ago that I’d do this—”

“The race sounds amazing,” she said, ruthlessly pushing away the ache inside of her at the thought of not seeing Dylan for an entire week. Fun, she reminded herself. They were just having fun, enjoying each other while they were working together on her magazine article.

And that was all she could let herself believe it was for now, because fun wasn’t something she needed to overthink. Fun wasn’t something she needed to worry over. Fun wasn’t something she needed to have a foolproof plan or an escape hatch nailed down for.

“I’ll have a little over a week left to finish my story after you return, so hopefully you’ll come back with some good stories for me.”

Just then, Mason threw his giraffe and she knew he was tired of being strapped into his stroller without going anywhere. “We’ll be at the playground right across the street. See you soon.”

And despite not yet knowing exactly how to get a handle on her relationship with Dylan—one that already felt so much more important than any fun fling she’d ever had—it was a thrill to know that she would.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Mason was happily tucked into a toddler swing and squealing with joy as she pushed him higher and higher. He was a little daredevil, much like her parents had always said she’d been as a child, and she vowed never to let her own fears hold him back. She would support him in everything, no matter how dangerous or wild. Just as she had learned that Claudia Sullivan had done with her children.

The urge to protect her son from anything that might hurt him was all-consuming. But she knew better, knew that if her parents had still been alive, they’d have urged her to remember that giving him wings to fly was just as important as keeping him safe.

Or, she thought with a little smile, maybe he’d end up choosing a boat in which to sail across the deep blue sea. Lost in her thoughts, it wasn’t until Mason started making happy little sounds that she realized Dylan was walking straight toward them. She heard a collective gasp of female appreciation from the other women in the park as he stepped onto the sandy playground in jeans and a T-shirt that fit him so well her own mouth went dry. Not in the least because she finally knew exactly how good he looked without said jeans and T-shirt.

He grabbed Mason’s swing in midair, and her son puckered up for a kiss. That kiss was always the first thing Mason wanted, and it never failed to move her how easily and sweetly affectionate Dylan was with her little boy.

When Mason looked over his shoulder at her, Dylan grinned and said, “One for him, one for you.”

Setting Mason back to flying in his swing with one hand, he used the other to pull her close, then kissed her slowly and deeply in front of everyone…sending her heart flying, too.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

When they were finally able to take Mason away from the park without too much of a fuss, the three of them headed to the ice cream shop. Playing at the park. Getting ice cream. Sharing hot kisses. See, Grace told herself, we’re just having fun.

Leaving Mason sitting proudly like a big boy beside Dylan outside the ice cream store with his little legs sticking straight out in front of him on the brightly painted bench, she went inside and placed their orders. Five minutes later, she returned with her hands full.

“Here’s your rainbow sorbet, sweet pea.” Mason reached for the cone and immediately shoved it against his lips, bright green, orange, and pink streaks smearing his chubby cheeks. “And our banana split and two lemonades.”