I Love How You Love Me (The Sullivans #13)

Dylan downed another shot of whiskey in one gulp. “You can add something else to that list—scum. The guy who got Grace pregnant is a Bentley. But that’s not all they did.”

Adam leaned in, his expression hard. “What did they do to her?”

“They tried to break her, tried to pay her off to get rid of Mason, and to stay quiet about having anything to do with them.”

“The former senator is Mason’s father?” Rafe asked incredulously.

“No. The son. Richard Bentley. He accused her of trying to trick him into marriage.” He scowled. “As if anyone would actually want to marry into that sick and twisted family.”

Ian looked as furious as Dylan felt. “The bastard always seemed too slick.”

“The cleaner they seem on the surface,” Rafe agreed through his own clenched teeth, “the dirtier they always are underneath. What other details do you have?”

“Richard’s parents paid her a visit the day after she gave him the news and shoved their sin money at her while informing her that if she ever tried to go up against them, they’d use their name and charity and connections to crush her.” Adam cursed low and long as Dylan laid it all out for his brothers. “She didn’t use a dime of their money, didn’t want anything to do with them. It’s why she left D.C. So that they wouldn’t see that she had the baby, and so they wouldn’t try to hurt either her or Mason. She doesn’t think of Richard as the father. Not after what he and his family did.” Dylan’s blood was boiling. “Best case, she wants to believe she’s hidden and forgotten, but a family like that, they keep tabs on their mistakes. And they think they deserve anything. Everything they want. Whether they should have it or not. Especially now that the word on the street is that her ex and his new wife are having trouble conceiving. What if Richard and his family realize that Mason is the only Bentley heir they’re going to have? They’ll come after her to try to steal him away.” He swore. “I can’t just sit on the sidelines. I have to protect her and Mason. I can’t risk something happening to them.” Before Rafe could ask, he added, “She and I talked tonight about my pulling you guys in. Even though I know she wishes she could handle this situation all by herself, she’ll do anything to keep her son safe.”

“I’ll dig into the guy,” Rafe said. “His family, too. Whatever dirt there is on them, I’ll find it.”

“I’ll do the same on the business end,” Ian told him. “I’ll find out what else the family has their hands in.” And figure out where to yank to destroy them, was his unspoken promise. “I’ll also check in with Smith to see what he knows about the Bentleys.”

“And I’ll be in charge of keeping you from doing something stupid,” Adam said. “I know you’re furious. We all are. But right now you need to let Rafe and Ian see what they can dig up, and be there for Grace and Mason. Because going after the bastard and his family now, without any intel or a plan, will likely only raise questions we don’t want the Bentleys asking about Grace or a baby they might not know anything about otherwise.”

Dylan appreciated the support of his brothers—it was why he’d called them together, because they’d always worked best as a team. And yet, even though he knew he shouldn’t head to D.C. and flatten all three of the Bentleys, he hated having to wait, hated having to be patient until they had more information. He had always been able to change what needed to be changed in his life, to fix what needed to be fixed. Sure, he was sometimes frustrated, or angry on his family’s behalf for things that had happened to them, but he also knew that whenever they needed help, they’d ask for it because they knew he would always be there for them.

Tonight was the first time Dylan had ever really struggled with the horrible futility of knowing that he couldn’t just make the darkness in Grace’s past go away.

“Since we can all see that Grace and Mason are already yours,” Ian told him, “that means they’re ours, too. So if her ex or his family try anything, you can count on all of us to take them down.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Grace had spent the last thirty-six hours thinking. Mulling. Dissecting.

And wanting. Always wanting.

Saturday night, she’d told Dylan more than she’d ever told anyone else about her past…and then she’d gone a little crazy in his arms. The best kind of crazy, she thought as she pulled into the parking lot of his boathouse. But crazy nonetheless. She’d hoped to have a firm handle on everything by now, but the truth was that she was still going around and around in her mind.

She’d intended for the night to be nothing more than friends visiting an aquarium. But there was no point in trying to deny how good—or how natural—it had been to make out with Dylan on her couch, so she wouldn’t bother with that nonsense. She also wouldn’t try to tell herself that she hadn’t wanted more of his big, work-roughened hands on her. Not when she had wanted much more. But he hadn’t given her what she was all but begging for, hadn’t pushed her too far. Instead, he’d stopped and gone home completely unfulfilled.

Dylan had promised that they would go slow. Given his behavior on Saturday night, it looked as though he meant it. Which was why all her thinking, all her wanting, had her circling back again and again to the same place: If they truly could keep to slow while she also kept her eyes wide open this time, then maybe it would be okay to spend a few sexy hours here and there with him.