Preston shook his head. “Nope. Chelsea belongs to the guy I just saw her locking lips with down the street.”
Victor grunted in response to that information. “Well, that explains your award-winning disposition this morning. Are you sure it was Chelsea? I mean, isn’t she supposed to be in Paris?”
“I’m positive it was her, though I don’t have a clue why she’s not in Paris or how she ended up in Baltimore.”
Victor rubbed his jaw, which, even now, first thing in the morning, was covered with a five-o’clock shadow. Victor swore his beard grew back before he even finished shaving. “Back up and start at the beginning.”
“I decided to walk here rather than drive.”
Victor scowled. “In that jacket? It’s cold as a witch’s tit out there.”
They got another dirty look from the old ladies, but Victor either didn’t see or didn’t care.
“The wind didn’t pick up until I was on my way here. I walked down a different street from my usual because it sheltered me from the cold better, and I saw a sign for a new bakery.”
At Victor’s blank expression, Preston explained, “Chelsea’s childhood dream was to open her own bakery. She planned on calling it Sugar and Spice.”
Victor cracked his neck, the action a regular habit that drove Preston crazy. “Never ceased to be amazed by how much shit you remember about a chick you hooked up with for one night a year ago.”
Preston ran a hand through his hair. “I remember everything about Chelsea.”
“So you saw the bakery,” Victor said, getting them back on track.
“It’s not open yet, but the sign is already there. I stopped short when I saw the words Sugar and Spice Bakery.”
“And then what?”
“I was standing across the street. Before I could walk over and check it out, another man stopped in front of the bakery, waving to someone inside.”
“Chelsea,” Victor said.
Preston pointed to the tip of his nose. “Yep. I don’t know who the guy was, but I could tell they were close. Like, really close.”
“Did you go over and talk to her?”
“No,” Preston replied. “I was going to, but then the guy started kissing her and I…”
“You couldn’t watch it, so you fucking stormed off.”
He and Victor had been teammates for a damn long time, and it showed. The guy knew him well.
Victor smirked. “So how the fuck do you know the guy’s a boyfriend? Maybe they’ve just gone on a few dates. Maybe it’s nothing serious. How hot and heavy was this kiss?”
Preston didn’t have a clue because the second the other man laid his lips on hers, he turned around and got the hell out of there. “As you said, I didn’t stick around to watch.”
Preston considered the body language between Chelsea and the other man. They had stood close to each other, but Chelsea hadn’t hugged the guy when he showed up or acted overly excited to see him. Of course, he’d been at a disadvantage, only able to see the man’s face during their interaction, which told him the guy was seriously into her.
Maybe Chelsea wasn’t as into the guy as he was her. That initial smile of hers had looked forced.
Or…
Maybe that was just wishful thinking.
Preston threw his head back, glaring at the ceiling. “What if he’s her boyfriend? What if it’s serious?”
“Only one way to find out.”
Preston’s groan prompted Victor to roll his eyes.