He nodded. “Yeah, I figured that out on my own.”
“I should have told you that he was sort of back in the picture, hanging around since Lennon was born. Actually, before that.”
Preston tilted his head. “What does that mean? Hanging around? I thought you said you weren’t seeing anyone.”
“I’m not,” she replied quickly. “Not at all. And definitely not him. It’s just…he and Vanessa broke up before I moved back to Baltimore. I told you that his mom and mine have been best friends forever. Rick and I grew up together, so our paths cross from time to time.”
Preston nodded, but didn’t ask any questions, waiting for her to fill in all the blanks.
“Obviously, when he showed up shortly after my return to apologize, I told him to take a hike. But he kept coming back, trying to make amends. He gave my parents a check to cover all the money they lost on the wedding, and he helped my dad build Lennon’s crib and repaint my old bedroom, turning it into a nursery. I didn’t speak to him for months, even when he was doing all that, but after a while…”
“He wore you down.”
She lifted one shoulder. “Being angry at him all the time was exhausting. So I told him I forgave him and we could be friends,” she stressed. “Only friends. But a month or so ago—the day you found me, actually—he kissed me, and I realized he wanted more than just friendship. I told him I wasn’t interested, but Rick’s not the type to give up easily. Apparently, my mom’s been telling him about you and your career, and…he showed up today to…” She stopped.
“Warn you about me?” Preston correctly surmised.
“There are a lot of misconceptions about professional athletes out there.”
“In some cases, they’re not wrong. You haven’t met my friend Tank yet.”
Chelsea forced a grin, grateful he was giving her a chance to explain without getting angry. “Rick knows I’m going out of my mind living with my mother, so he said I could move in with him. Said he wanted to marry me and adopt Lennon and?—”
“Lennon has a father,” Preston interjected hotly, glancing over his shoulder, as if he was tempted to chase Rick down and make that fact painfully clear.
She raised her hands to calm him down. “I know he does, and I told him that. You are Lennon’s father. I’ll call someone this afternoon, try to figure out how to add your name to the birth certificate?—”
“I have a friend who practices family law, Colm Collins. I can call him and see what we need to do…if you’re sure you’re ready.”
“I’m very sure.”
“I saw him kiss you the day I found you,” Preston confessed. “I saw the bakery on my way to meet Victor for breakfast. Before I could cross the street, you came outside to talk to Rick. When he kissed you, I walked away.”
Chelsea was shocked by this information. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?”
“You said you weren’t seeing anyone, and I knew you wouldn’t lie to me.”
“I wouldn’t,” she reassured him. “But if you thought…when you saw us… Why did you come back?”
“Because I couldn’t stay away. I thought when I walked in here, you’d tell me that you’d fallen in love with someone else. I needed to hear that, knew it was the only way I’d ever be able to move on. I didn’t expect…”
Chelsea looked at Lennon, sleeping in his stroller. “Him.”
Preston smiled down at his son. “I expected to have my heart broken, not to find it.”
That was the greatest thing Chelsea had ever heard.
“I told Rick I don’t want to see him anymore, not even as friends. Our families—especially his mother,” she amended, “are just going to have to find a way to deal.”
It took a moment, but Preston’s troubled expression faded, and that easygoing grin that never failed to excite her returned. “Yeah, I guess they are. But don’t worry. I’m great with mothers. I’ll find a way to win yours over…somehow.”
She laughed. “If anyone can win Ellen Murphy over, it’s you.”
He checked on Lennon, who was still sound asleep, then approached her. “Now, are those cupcakes for anyone or…”
She gestured at the platter, letting him know he could help himself. He reached for the closest, which was the one she’d offered Rick, and polished it off in two large bites, his closed eyes and moan of delight doing wicked things to her libido.
Everything about this man turned her on, and the crazy part was, most of it wasn’t even sexual. She swore she popped out a new egg every time she watched him cuddle Lennon in his arms. Or watched him skate across the ice—she and Dad were officially hockey fanatics these days.
