“Your place?”
“I want us to spend as much time as we can together, and I want you to see my condo, tell me how to baby-fy it. I suspect it will be easier to take care of him if we’re at home. I could come to your parents’ house if you?—”
“No,” she interjected, unwilling to subject Preston to her mother’s fifth degree so soon in their reunion. Given Mom’s unflattering list of concerns, it would be better to give her time to accept Preston’s presence in Lennon’s life. “No. It would be better at your place.”
“Great. We can order in lunch and dinner and just hang out. You can teach me all the things,” he said with a grin. “Like diaper changing and when naptime happens and how he likes to be held, stuff like that. I’ve already ordered a playpen and some toys that’ll arrive before your visit, so maybe?—”
“You what?” Chelsea thought she might’ve heard him wrong. He’d only discovered he was a father eight hours ago.
Preston gave her that same sexy, charming grin that had turned her head the night of the holiday party. “I pulled up an internet site on essentials for babies five minutes after walking out of the bakery. Spent the rest of my walk home reading reviews, then placing an order. I only ordered the playpen to start because I want your opinion on the crib, car seat, high chair, baby tub, and other stuff. But I figured the playpen was a good place to start because it’s versatile. It’s adjustable so it works as a bassinet, too, and it even has a changing station attachment.”
Chelsea shook her head, trying to process the fact he’d already gone to so much effort. “I think it’s sweet that you’ve already bought stuff.”
“Is there anything else I need to buy for him before our date? Diapers? Wipes? Maybe a playmat for the floor?”
“No,” she said. “I can bring all of that with me.”
“Okay. We can do some online shopping for the rest of the stuff while we’re at my condo.”
Chelsea figured she should respond to that, but right now, her mind was whirling over everything he’d said. For someone who claimed they could start slow, Preston seemed to be doing the exact opposite. He was moving at warp speed, and she was struggling to keep up.
The problem was, they couldn’t really take this as slow as she might be comfortable with because Lennon wasn’t going to stop growing. It wasn’t fair of her to let Preston miss out on any more of their son’s tiny, daily milestones, simply because she was unable to share him.
They fell silent for a few minutes, each of them finishing their dinner and drinks. It wasn’t an awkward silence. In fact, it felt deliberate on Preston’s part. Like he could tell she was overwrought, and he was giving her time to calm her thoughts.
She and Rick had known each other all their lives, and he’d never been able to read her like this man, who’d known her…God, what? When she did the math, she figured she and Preston had spent less than twenty-four hours together. Yet, it felt like more. Felt like they were years beyond that.
Probably because they’d made those hours count, holding back nothing from each other. She’d opened up to him that first night together about things she’d never told anyone, and he had done the same. If Chelsea was prone to flights of fantasy, she’d think perhaps the two of them were soul mates, that they’d known each other in a previous life.
Then she did an internal eye roll.
Yeah, right. That’s totally what’s happening here.
Padraig came back to clear the table. “Do you want some dessert?”
Preston looked at her, and Chelsea shook her head.
“Just the check,” he said.
Padraig went back to the bar, returning quickly. Preston slid him a credit card, despite Chelsea reaching for her own wallet.
“Let me go halfsies,” she insisted.
Preston refused. “Nope. I invited you. I’m paying.”
“Then I’ll pay for the takeout for our family date.”
The look Preston gave her said he had no intention of agreeing to that.
Padraig returned, he and Preston making small talk about tomorrow night’s game in Boston as he signed the receipt.
“Good luck,” Padraig told him, before turning to her. “It was really nice to meet you, Chelsea.”
“You too,” she said, once again getting the feeling that Padraig knew her somehow. She glanced at the time on her phone. “I should probably head home. This is the longest I’ve been away from Lennon, and…”
Preston grinned. “You miss him.”
“It’s silly, I know, because he’s most likely been asleep the entire time I’ve been away, but…” She stopped herself from saying more because it occurred to her she was pouring salt in Preston’s wounds, complaining about being away from Lennon for a few hours when he’d missed so much time with his son. Months.
