“Ethan and I inherited some money late last spring from Ethan’s great-aunt. She encouraged us to open the bakery in her will. Agnes was a huge part of my life, and I still can’t believe she’s gone. Without her, we’d never had been able to do this.”
“It’s a great space on a cool street. Lots of foot traffic.”
“That’s what Ethan said,” Chelsea agreed. “He handled finding the property, since I had my hands full with this sweetheart. Ethan has been incredible through all of this. He’s nuts about Lennon. I asked him and Allyson to be the godparents. They were both with me in the delivery room. I hope that’s okay. I know you don’t know them.”
“It’s fine, Chelsea. Honest. I’m glad they were there for you. And I can tell Ethan’s crazy about the baby.” Again, no mention of the other man. Maybe Victor had been right. Maybe the guy kissing her was new to the scene or things weren’t that serious between them.
“The bakery has caused some discord between me and my mother, because she thinks I’m taking too big a chance and I should be saving the inheritance for Lennon, but…” Chelsea waved her hand. “Sorry. I’m a nervous talker. Scratch all of that. You don’t want to hear my silly drama.”
Actually, he did. He wanted to know every single thing there was to know about her, her life, and Lennon.
The attraction he’d felt toward her the night of the holiday party was child’s play compared to now. He’d spent a year trying to tell himself he was building Chelsea up bigger in his mind, imagining she was prettier, funnier, sweeter than she’d actually been.
Sitting with her now, he could see that—if anything—he’d downplayed his memories. Because she was still just as open and honest and genuine as she’d been at the party. He never had to second-guess with her, never had to wonder or worry that she was playing him because of his career or his ridiculously large bank account. And motherhood really freaking suited her. She’d gained weight during her pregnancy, enhancing her gorgeous curves, adding a healthy glow to her skin.
She was still an incredibly beautiful woman, even with the dark circles under her eyes. For some reason, he was as attracted to those as anything else, because it was proof she was spending her sleep-deprived nights taking care of their son.
“There’s nothing wrong with pursuing a dream, Chelsea. I spent my entire childhood determined I was going to be a professional hockey player. Talk about an unachievable dream. You want to know what made the difference for me?”
She nodded.
“No one laughed at or dismissed me. No one told me I couldn’t do it. Instead, my family supported me, even though it was a financial strain and a huge time commitment. You’ve been dreaming of this since you were young, right?”
“I have.”
“Then you should go for it.”
“But you don’t think the timing is,” she gestured toward Lennon, “a little insane?”
He chuckled. “I think it’s safe to say the timing will never get any better. Unless you’re okay with waiting until Lennon moves out. Because you’re a mom for life.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my God. You’re right. When I first got back to the States, my old boss said I could return to my job at his bakery, but when I looked at the hours and the pay—barely better than minimum wage, with no benefits—I realized just how hard it would be with a newborn baby. As my own boss, I’ll have a bit more freedom to set my own schedule.”
“That makes sense.”
“Not that I won’t still have early hours. My days start at four a.m.”
Preston feigned a horrified face, pleased when Chelsea laughed. It was the first time she’d laughed freely, the sound unfettered by nerves.
“Figuring out childcare is one of those things I’ve been struggling with. I should already be looking. We’re opening the bakery on Valentine’s Day, and while I’ve got things sorted until then between me, my mom, Allyson, and Ethan for now, once this place opens…I hate the idea of leaving him with strangers.”
Preston leaned back in his chair, shifting slightly to a more comfortable position. Lennon stirred, and, for a moment, he feared he’d woken him up, but then the baby sank deeper into his arms and continued sleeping. “So we’ll add childcare to the list of things we need to talk about. Because I’d like to be included on that list of people who take care of him. My schedule during the season is a bit hectic, between games, workouts, practices, and road trips, but there are still plenty of hours during the day when he could be with me.”
“You want to take care of him?”
“He’s my son, Chelsea. I want to spend as much time as I can with him. Oh, and I’ll need a list of things I should buy for him for my place. I mean, I know I need a crib and high chair and car seat, and maybe a changing table, but what else? I want to make sure I have everything he needs.”
“You’re buying furniture for your place?”
“Well, yeah. I might need a diaper tutorial, and directions on how to give him a bath, and a feeding schedule, and…” Preston stopped, aware that while he was getting carried away, excited by the idea of having his son with him, Chelsea had suddenly gone chalk white.
He lifted one hand. “I’m going too fast.”
She didn’t respond for a moment or two. “You are, but I understand why. You’ve already missed so much time. It makes sense that you want to be with him. I’m…” She ran her hand through her hair. “I’m going to try to…”
“I shouldn’t have started this conversation here. We both need some time to sort through all of this. I got carried away.”
“And I love that,” she confessed. “Even though it scares the shit out of me.”
