Chelsea sat down next to Preston on the couch, tucking one leg under her as she faced him and Lennon. “You’re doing really well.”
“Thanks.”
“So…have you told your parents about him yet?”
He nodded. “I called them yesterday morning. And it was just as I suspected. They want to meet him. They’re insisting on coming for Christmas now. I told them I needed to talk to you first.”
“They should definitely meet him,” she said quickly.
What Preston didn’t say was that his parents were just as excited to meet Chelsea. He and his folks—despite the distance—were close, so they knew all about the woman he’d met at an Ugly Christmas Sweater party who’d stolen his heart, then vanished into thin air. Mom cried when Preston told her he’d found her, equally convinced she was the one for her too-long-single son.
“Mom is over the moon. My brother has two girls, so Lennon is their first grandson. Given it’s been just over twenty-four hours, it’s probably a safe bet that she’s made six Target runs and bought at least fifty outfits for him.”
“That’s sweet.”
“I guess at some point, we should talk about the holidays. Are you going to be in Baltimore?”
“Oh yeah. I’ll be here. He’s too little to travel with, given all the stuff I’d need to pack for him. I mean, you see how much I needed to bring today, and you helped me out by providing the playpen/bassinet/changing pad thing.”
“It is quite the haul. So, maybe you and Lennon could come here on Christmas Day for a little while to meet my parents. Or we could come to you,” he offered.
“We’ll come here, and we can stay as long as you’d like. I’m taking breaks from my mom whenever I can get them.” Chelsea closed her eyes and sighed. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to keep sounding so ungrateful when it comes to my mother.”
“What’s going on with her?” This was the second time Chelsea had mentioned being unhappy with her mother.
“I love my mom,” she started.
Preston chuckled, because he knew that sentence wasn’t going to end there. “But…”
Chelsea threw her hands up. “But she’s driving me up the wall. She’s always been strong-willed and opinionated. The two of us butted heads for most of my teen years. When I moved out, first with Rick and then with Ethan, things got better. Mom and I get along great when our interactions are limited. You know, a phone call here or there and maybe a few visits a month.”
Preston could see where this was going. “But now, you’re living under the same roof.”
“With a baby. My baby,” Chelsea stressed. “Or, well, I mean ours. Mom has strong opinions about how to take care of a baby, and some…okay, most of them are pretty old school. Like she thinks I shouldn’t immediately go to Lennon when he cries in the middle of the night, insisting that’s the only way to get him to sleep through the evening. But I’m not letting him cry.”
“I agree with you.” Preston hated the idea of Lennon lying alone in a bed, upset.
“And lately, after his three-a.m. feeding, I put him in bed with me and leave him there instead of putting him back in his bassinet. We both sleep better and longer—but oh my God, Mom loses her shit over that. Even though I’ve read lots of positive things about family beds.”
Preston made a mental note to start reading articles about babies. “I like the sound of a family bed, too.”
“She’s also pushing me to start him on solid foods, but the doctor and baby books all say it’s too soon. It’s just…” Chelsea leaned back on the couch, closing her eyes exhaustedly. “It’s been a lot.”
“It sounds like it.” Since Lennon had finished his bottle, Preston pulled it out of his son’s still-sucking mouth.
Chelsea reached over, helping Preston guide the baby to his shoulder after placing a burp cloth there. She shifted closer, gently patting Lennon on the back as a demonstration. Preston followed her lead, both of them laughing softly when the baby let out a gigantic burp.
She took Lennon from him, rising to walk over to the playpen. She put him inside, smiling. Preston joined her, placing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.
“You’re doing a great job, Chelsea. I’m sorry if your mother doesn’t make you feel that way, but all you have to do is look at that healthy, smiling baby to know it.”
She turned toward him. “Thanks, Preston.”
They were standing close, but neither of them sought to move away. Instead, Preston used the hand still resting on her shoulder to move her nearer. He did it slowly, giving her a chance to pull away.
Chelsea didn’t resist, allowing him to close the distance.
“Chelsea,” he whispered, his lips a mere inch from hers. “I’m going to kiss you.”
