“I wasn’t supposed to fall for you.” Tears were spilling down her cheeks. “It was just supposed to be me and Mason. I planned to do anything, everything, I could to keep him safe. But then you came into our lives and turned everything upside down so fast. Too fast.”
Dylan knew why she was reeling, understood that her ex appearing out of the blue combined with thinking she might be pregnant again had dragged up all of her fears, all of her worries, all of her trust issues. Especially when she already felt as though her feelings for him were spiraling out of her control.
But just because he understood didn’t mean he wasn’t beyond frustrated. He wished he could just keep talking to her until he’d convinced her to see things his way. But all he could do, for tonight at least, was draw her into his arms and hold her for as long as she would let him.
She didn’t break down in tears again, simply held on tight as he felt her gather her strength. He didn’t know how long they’d been standing together in the middle of her living room when Mason woke up, crying.
“I have to go get Mason.” She had already drawn back from Dylan’s arms, far too quickly for his peace of mind. “I got him down too late for his nap today and now everything’s off.”
Before, she would have invited him into the bedroom to soothe Mason. Would have let him lift Mason out of the crib and into his arms. But now, she was simply waiting for him to leave.
“Tomorrow,” he said, desperate to know that leaving now didn’t mean never seeing her again. Desperate to have some time to think of a way to persuade her to change her mind about taking a risk in loving him. “We were going to do the sail tomorrow. The missing piece for your story.”
“Your mother was going to watch Mason, but now—”
“She loves him, Grace. You know that. Nothing that happens between you and me is going to change that. Let her watch him tomorrow while we go sailing.”
Mason wailed again from his crib, louder this time, and the sound pierced Dylan’s heart. God, how he hated not being able to go to him, to comfort the little boy whom he’d been praying would soon be his.
“Okay,” she said quickly. “I’ll meet you at your boathouse at three o’clock. But I need to get Mason now. And I want to make sure that I lock up behind you.”
Which meant she needed him to leave.
But when she opened the door for him a few seconds later, even though he knew he had no choice but to go, there was something he needed her to know. “I told you before that I’d never experienced heartbreak, never truly regretted anything. But now I know that if you don’t let yourself love me back, I’ll finally be broken. And I’ll never stop regretting losing you and Mason.”
* * *
Dylan’s phone was ringing on the front seat of the Jeep, where he’d left it. When he saw his brother Rafe’s name on the screen, he immediately picked up.
“Richard Bentley is in Seattle,” Rafe said without preamble. “I’ve called you a half-dozen times in the past hour to try to tell you. Where the hell were you?”
“With Grace. Dealing with the aftermath of his visit. He threatened her and tried to make her hand over Mason.”
Rafe swore. “Is she—”
“She stood up for herself. She told him to leave her and Mason the hell alone and has leverage to make sure he does.” He quickly told his brother about the recording and that he needed Rafe to get the best damned custody lawyer on board ASAP. “Where is the bastard staying?”
“You’re planning to hurt him, aren’t you?”
“Hell, yes.”
Rafe could have told him that he needed to tread carefully with such a big name to make sure he stayed out of the press, out of jail. But Dylan knew that if Brooke had been threatened, his brother would do whatever he could to avenge her…and protect her.
Rafe gave him the name of Richard Bentley’s hotel and the suite number.
* * *
Dylan knocked on Bentley’s door hard enough that he would have made a hole through the heavy wood if her ex hadn’t opened it. One little crack was all he needed once the doorknob turned, and then Dylan was pushing in and slamming it closed behind him.
Fear immediately leaped into Bentley’s eyes. Of course, by now Dylan had seen plenty of pictures of the guy, both in Rafe’s report and online. But Richard Bentley had been smug and totally in control in all of those images. Now, there was naked fear on his face.
“Who the hell are you? What are you doing?”
Dylan slammed his fist into the guy’s jaw, enjoying the crunch of bone on bone.
That one hard punch was enough to have the guy begging. “Take my money. My wallet’s by the TV. Take whatever you want, anything from my luggage, from the room.”
With anyone else, the pathetic begging might have stopped Dylan from doing more violence. But what this guy and his family had done deserved more than one punch. Richard needed to feel enough pain, and enough fear, that he would never dare come near Grace or Mason again.
Dylan slammed his fist into her ex’s gut. “I’m only going to tell you this once, so you’d better pay attention. Stay the hell away from Grace and her son. Forever.”
The guy’s eyes got big. “You’re a Sullivan. The one she’s fu—”
Dylan’s hands were around the guy’s throat before he could finish the word. “She told me what happened. Everything that happened, everything you and your parents tried to get her to do. I know she has it all on tape, every last word those sick people said to her. If you try to force her up against the wall to try to get at a kid who isn’t yours in any way, you’re going to pay.”