Page 62 of Rematch
Chelsea was shocked. “Fourteen years?”
“Some clownfish can live more than twenty years in aquariums. I got these guys around Thanksgiving.”
“Let me guess,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Harry and Meghan? Beyonce and Jay-Z? Taylor and Travis?”
Preston was amused by her guesses and slightly nervous about answering the question. “Nope.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”
Preston pointed to one of the fish. “That’s BFG, and over there, hiding in the aquarium plants, is Joy.”
Chelsea’s humor gave way to something different, but just as nice. She looked…touched. “You named them after us?”
“The night we spent together was one of the best of my life, Chelsea. And I felt that way before I learned about him.” He gestured toward their son. “Now it’s not one of the best but the best. Because it gave us Lennon.”
Chelsea didn’t reply, but he wasn’t concerned about her silence because she didn’t appear to disagree. It was more like he’d rendered her speechless…in a good way. There was a glassy sheen of tears in her eyes that she tried to blink away.
He placed his hand on her back, turning her toward the hallway. “Come on. We better finish this tour before Lennon wakes up.” He guided her down the hall, pointing out the laundry room, his office, and then the guest room. “I was thinking of turning this into the nursery. It’s right across from my room.”
Chelsea entered the guest room, running her finger along the dresser.
“There’s plenty of room in here for a crib, and I could set the changing table up on the dresser. I was planning to paint those shelves white to brighten the room, and they’re large enough for books and toys. For now, I was thinking of leaving the bed.” He didn’t add that he was hoping to convince her to spend some nights here with Lennon. In his ideal world, she’d be in bed with him, but they were a long way away from that, especially if…
“Chelsea, are you seeing someone?” he blurted, before he could chicken out again.
She seemed surprised by his question, so much so she didn’t see his immediate relief when she instantly shook her head. “No. No one. You?”
Preston had to fight to draw in air because her answer knocked all the breath from his lungs. He wasn’t sure who he’d seen kissing her on the sidewalk, but it was clear, given her direct response that the man meant nothing to her.
He didn’t even try to hide his smile, which was clearly too big for the situation, because Chelsea gave him a look. He probably appeared unhinged, but he didn’t care. She wasn’t dating anyone. She was single.
Despite the mountain of issues standing between them and Preston’s hopes for their future, he suddenly felt excited and ready to tackle every concern until he reached his true goal, the one he hadn’t said to Chelsea yet.
He hadn’t lied about wanting to spend every minute he could with his son, but what he hadn’t said was that he wanted Chelsea to be there too. Preston didn’t merely want to co-parent. He wanted them to be a family—a real family.
“I’m not dating anyone,” he replied.
“Still a hopeless romantic?” She licked her lips somewhat nervously.
“Something like that.”
They stared at each other for several long moments. Preston was tempted to cut the distance, to go to her, but her posture was too stiff, too…uneasy. He wasn’t sure what was going through her mind, but clearly something was holding her back.
After a minute or two, she cleared her throat. “It’s a lovely room, Preston.” Chelsea was slipping back into that anxious state, so he opted for distraction.
“And this,” he said, leading her across the hall, “is my bedroom.”
She followed him, her eyes taking in everything. “It’s so nice in here. Tasteful. Elegant, even.”
“What were you imagining?” he asked with a grin. “Black silk sheets? Mirrored ceiling? Notches on the bedpost?”
She smirked. “Only the first two. I didn’t think you’d be tacky enough to keep count with tick marks.”
Preston wrapped his arm around her shoulders, ruffling her hair playfully. “Smart-ass.”
She tried to bat his hand away, the game ending when they heard Lennon’s cry from the living room.
Walking back down the hall, Chelsea started to pick him up, then stopped herself. “You want to hold him?”
