Page 41 of Rematch
She knew that all the way to the depths of her soul, and it helped her shake off the last few crappy minutes. “Thanks. And now, I’d really—REALLY—like to not talk about Rick anymore. He’s ruining my Zen.”
Ethan looked like he wanted to persist, but then he took in her exhausted expression and relented. Because unlike Rick, Ethan could read the fucking room. “Okay. I agree. That asshole doesn’t deserve even a second thought.”
“Good. Because we have bigger things to discuss.”
“Like?” Ethan asked.
“Are we insane?”
“In general?” Ethan retorted. “Yeah. Probably.”
“No, asshole. You know what I’m talking about. I mean…” Chelsea paused, then realized he was right. “Okay. Yes, we’re insane in general, but I was referring to this.” She gestured toward the ornate lettering on the front plate-glass window of the building she and her best friend were now renting with an option to buy.
“Oh…nothing about this is insane. It’s perfect.”
Ethan had been saying those same words—on repeat, because she was hormonal and needy—since they’d decided to go all-in on this dream.
“I’m being serious, Ethan. This is a humongous life change, coming on the heels of—fuck me—so many life changes.” If she thought about how much things had changed, she’d start to hyperventilate because seriously! It was a fuck-ton.
“A year and a half ago, I was about to walk down the aisle with the clueless wonder who just left.”
Ethan held up his hand. “We do not speak of the dark times.”
They really didn’t. Not anymore.
Not since last December.
Because those dark times had been erased by a big, friendly, sexy-as-sin giant.
Maybe erased and replaced was more accurate, because God knew she hadn’t forgotten a single solitary second of her time with Preston.
He had given her the best night of her life, resuscitating her confidence and her libido, before she ventured out into what she’d thought was an exciting new future in Paris.
Well, she’d gotten exciting and new.
Just not in the way she’d expected.
Glancing through the plate-glass window, she spied her future, sleeping peacefully in the stroller Ethan had parked right by the door before bringing out her coat.
“All I’m saying,” Chelsea continued, “is a broken engagement, a move to Paris, an unexpected pregnancy, followed by a return to Baltimore was already insane enough. To follow all that by starting a new business might officially make us—well, me—totally insane. I have a three-month-old.” This time, she gestured to the stroller instead of the window.
Ethan brushed her concerns away now, just as he had every single time she questioned the wisdom of this venture. “Fate picked the timing, Cupcake. We would be fools to walk away from what was clearly meant to be.”
She studied the name of their dream bakery, painted on the window of the shop in bright colors.
Sugar and Spice Bakery.
Seeing the words displayed there was powerful, overwhelming, amazing, and she had to admit that it did feel like perhaps destiny had led them here.
A year ago, they’d set this dream aside, declaring it a silly wish made by kids, while she planned her escape to Paris and Ethan accepted a large promotion with the marketing firm he’d worked for since graduating from college…even though the job bored him to tears.
At the time, they had somehow managed to convince themselves that they were making adult decisions, doing the smart thing, focusing on their careers instead of pipe dreams.
That was a year ago.
Now?
Now everything was completely different. Those adult choices had been chucked aside, as they took a major risk attempting to live the lives they’d always imagined for themselves but hadn’t had the courage—or cash—to go for.
