I Love How You Love Me (The Sullivans #13)(19)
Author: Bella Andre

So perfect that she didn’t think she could live with herself if she didn’t explain precisely why she was so intent on them being “just friends” after a kiss that had proved they could be so much more.

“I know we’ve only just started to eat, but I need to put Mason to bed. But, please, stay and finish dinner. And if you wouldn’t mind staying a little longer, I’d like to answer the question you asked me last night.”

“Of course I’ll wait, Grace. As long as you need me to.” He gave Mason a kiss on the forehead. “Good night, little guy. Sweet dreams.”

Mason’s eyes fluttered open again, and when he puckered up his lips to give Dylan a good-night kiss—something he’d only ever given her before tonight—Grace’s heart flip-flopped inside her chest.

From the look on Dylan’s face, she knew his had, too.

CHAPTER TEN

Regardless of how difficult or crazy a day Grace might have had, Mason’s bedtime ritual always settled her down. Tonight, however, she had a feeling nothing was going to stop the flutters in her belly. Because even though she was about to tell Dylan about her past so that he’d understand why she couldn’t date him, it didn’t change the fact that she was still going to be alone in her living room with the sexiest man alive.

She resisted the urge to fix her hair or makeup before going back out to see him, just as she hadn’t allowed herself to stress over her outfit. Jeans and a T-shirt had been perfect for a visit to the aquarium, and they would still be perfect for an honest discussion between friends.

She was surprised to find that Dylan had cleaned up the dining room and kitchen. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You’ve met my mother, so you should know that no Sullivan ever shirks on cleanup. Are you sure you don’t want me to heat yours back up?”

She shook her head, but picked up her glass of wine before going to sit on the couch. As soon as he sat beside her, she said, “Last night, you asked me why I didn’t want to date you. I know it sounds like a cliché, but it’s not you, it’s me. I met Mason’s—” She shook her head, unable to use the word father. Not when Richard had never been, not for one single second. “I was researching a story about charitable foundations. He is one of the leading experts in family-run charities because he comes from an influential Washington family with legacy money.” The irony still killed her that the family everyone thought was so good, so charitable, had been anything but when they’d learned she was pregnant. “I thought that just because he spent his days giving away money, it meant he was a good person, too. So even though I know how to do really good background research on people, I let the fact that he worked for an organization that helps people in need take the place of actually looking deeper.” She wasn’t proud of it, but she needed Dylan to know something else. “He was so good at sweeping me off my feet, taking me on his private plane and to rooftop dinners just for the two of us that after things ended with him, I swore I wouldn’t let that happen to me again—falling for a pretty face and slick words just because I might be feeling lonely.”

“I’m glad you think my face is pretty,” Dylan said with a small upturn of his lips, “but nothing I’ve said to you has been slick.”

She wanted to believe him, wished it was easy for her to take all the nice things he’d said at face value. “I was never one of those daughters who had to rebel. But once my parents were both gone, I felt so lost—” She stopped herself. “It sounds like I’m making an excuse for what I did, for the choices I made.”

“No, it sounds like you’re human. Like you were hurting and needed someone to comfort you. But he hurt you instead.” Anger flashed in Dylan’s eyes. “What did he do when you told him you were pregnant?”

She hadn’t been planning to go into the nitty-gritty details tonight. Even though she hadn’t given any names, she’d probably already said too much. But after having a glass of wine on an empty stomach, she couldn’t seem to stop. Especially not when Dylan was such a good listener…and the only person she’d ever told about any of this.

“He acted like I’d tricked him. Like I’d done it on purpose to get his money, to force his hand to marry me so that I could live off his family fortune.”

“How could he not know how much you love your work, and that you would never do something like that? That you could never even have it in you to think of it?”

“Probably because he didn’t care about what I did. He didn’t respect my career, or me, either. I would never in a million years want to become a kept woman. Never. But since he didn’t believe that, he told me my trick of getting pregnant wasn’t going to work. When I swore to him that it was an accident, that he knew we had used protection, he didn’t want to listen. And he told me…” Her stomach twisted. “He told me to undo it.”

Dylan’s curse was soft, but powerful nonetheless. “The bastard didn’t deserve you.”

“I know he didn’t. I think I knew it long before that night, actually. We were always alone, just the two of us on a yacht or in a fancy hotel suite or my apartment. I thought it was because he wanted to get to know me better before he introduced me to his friends and family. But what he was really doing was hiding me from them and from the other woman he was actually going to marry—one who was infinitely more appropriate in his world. But I didn’t want to be alone, so I didn’t stop seeing him even though I should have.”

She paused, took another sip of wine to try to steady herself. But it was no use. Not when she had an even worse part of the story to tell.

“I was still reeling from his reaction the next day—and trying to wrap my head around having a baby on my own—when I had a couple of unexpected visitors. His parents didn’t want to risk leaving anything to chance. And, I think they were used to cleaning up their son’s messes over the years by throwing money at them. They gave me the money and tried to act like it was a gift. But I made them tell me, made them say aloud what it was for. They expected me to get rid of Mason and forget I’d ever had anything to do with their son.”

“Tell me his name, Grace.”

She knew she shouldn’t, but since she’d already been crazy enough to tell Dylan this much—more than she’d ever intended to tell anyone—it wouldn’t be hard for him to put the pieces together. “Richard. Richard Bentley.”