Page 29 of Rematch (Stingrays Hockey #3)

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.”

Her lips tilted upward, her tongue darting out to lick her lower lip. “That’s a bad idea.”

Preston didn’t agree, but it proved there was something going on in Chelsea’s head that was holding her back. Unfortunately, he wasn’t strong enough to put on the brakes…yet. “Tell you what. We can discuss why you think that after.”

She nodded just once. “Okay. After.”

That was all the permission he needed. Preston wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, the other gripping her hip.

He’d dreamed of kissing her again for too long to take this slow.

In his mind, they’d kissed a million times since last December.

The light kiss outside the pub hadn’t been anywhere near enough for him.

Chelsea’s hands flew to his shoulders before sliding through his hair. She fisted it, pulling as if afraid he’d let go.

If he had his way, he was never letting go. They could live out the next sixty years right here, in this spot, just like this.

Their tongues found each other at the exact same moment, and Preston drank down her hungry whimpers. Passion took over as he deepened the kiss, moving his hand from her hip to her ass, pressing their lower bodies together so that she could feel the effect she was having on him.

Chelsea released him with a loud intake of air, drawing in a deep breath before slamming her lips back to his.

Jesus. She was so sexy.

She hadn’t held anything back that night they’d spent together, giving him everything she had. It had been heady and amazing.

This kiss proved time hadn’t dimmed their attraction to each other.

When she nipped his lower lip, it proved to him just how big this thing between them had grown.

They broke apart briefly, both panting for air, glancing down to discover Lennon had fallen back to sleep.

Preston, still hungry for her, kissed her again, slowly pushing her backward as he did so, not stopping until they reached the couch.

He placed a hand around the front of her throat, using that hold to push her down onto the cushions.

Chelsea followed his unspoken commands, sitting down, then lying back as he climbed over her, caging her beneath him.

Her legs parted to make room for him, wrapping around his waist as she tilted her hips upward to brush his crotch, his cock, constricted within the tight denim.

He remained over her, holding himself with bent elbows on the cushions, the kissing going on and on and fucking on.

Chelsea gripped his back and shoulders, then her hands danced lower to his waist, slipping underneath the hem of his shirt. His cock grew harder when she stroked the bare skin of his chest, her nails lightly scoring circles into the skin around his nipples.

Preston cupped her breasts over her shirt, moaning at their larger size.

Chelsea broke the kiss, blushing uncomfortably. “The baby weight isn’t going away.”

He tipped her head up with a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You are the sexiest woman on the planet.”

She looked like she wanted to protest that, call him a liar, but something in his eyes must have convinced her that he was telling the truth.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to convince her to keep going. She bit her lower lip, squirming slightly as the legs that had been wrapped around his waist fell away. “We shouldn’t have let this go so far.”

He frowned, recalling her belief that the two of them kissing was a mistake. “Why not? I wasn’t lying when I said I looked for you, that I missed you. Chelsea, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night.”

Chelsea rested her hand flat against his chest, applying pressure until he lifted himself off her, the two of them sitting next to each other on the couch.

They were still relatively close, but compared to their previous position, it felt like they were miles apart.

“Preston, my hesitance doesn’t have anything to do with us. ”

He frowned, confused.

“It’s because of him.” She pointed toward the playpen where their son slept. “We spent one night together, and, yes, it was incredible. But it was still just one night. It would be the height of irresponsibility to start something between us.”

“Because of Lennon.”

“Because it wouldn’t just be our hearts at stake if things didn’t work out. I mean…we’re getting along now and working together to co-parent. If our relationship turned contentious…Lennon would suffer for it.”

He hated every single word she said, even though he understood.

He didn’t agree with her, because in his mind, this relationship had what it took to go the distance.

Preston knew a year ago she was the one, and that belief had only grown stronger with each passing day.

But he didn’t know how to convince her of that because—dammit—her concerns were valid.

“So I think it would be best if we kept this thing between us…” She paused, looking for a word.

It didn’t matter to him which word she used. He knew they were all going to suck.

“Platonic,” she finally landed on.

Yep. It sucked.

Preston considered pushing the issue, but in the end, he realized the best thing he could do, for now, was respect her wishes.

While the two of them still shared that powerful connection he’d felt the moment he met her, what they didn’t possess was a long history or any real time spent together.

So, Preston was going to have to give her that. Going to have to put his desires on the back burner while he gave Chelsea a chance to get to know him.

“Okay,” he said, relieved that he’d landed on the right answer when she gave him a genuine smile, pleased he wasn’t fighting her.

“We owe it to Lennon to take things slow, to navigate our way through being parents together,” he added. “But, Chelsea, that doesn’t mean I’m giving up on us. I’m just postponing the inevitable until you figure out what I already know.”

She frowned. “What’s that?”

“This thing between us?” he replied, taking her hand in his, lifting it to his lips so that he could kiss her palm. “It’s serendipity.”