One Pucking Secret (One Pucking #1)

Chapter 11

Chloe

I slump into my desk, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My legs feel like jelly from rushing around all morning, and I still can’t believe I made it through that meeting without losing my mind. My thoughts scatter, drifting between the chaos of today and memories of last week.

“Rough day?” Lainey’s voice breaks through the quiet of my office, pulling me from my thoughts. She leans casually against the doorframe, one eyebrow arched, taking in my disheveled state.

“You have no idea,” I groan, glancing at her as she steps inside, her presence offering a strange comfort. “You wouldn’t believe how my day went.”

She raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching as if she’s holding back a laugh. “Try me.”

I roll my eyes, leaning back in my chair. “It started with burnt pancakes, spilled milk, and almost missing the bus with Jasper. Then I hit traffic, of course, and by the time I got to work, all the parking spots were taken. Oh, and then there’s Sonia’s latest tirade about Wyatt. Then the printer jammed right when I needed it, emails bounced back, and clients were calling nonstop. To top it all off, I broke my heel right before the Henderson meeting.” I sigh dramatically, throwing my hands up. “Had to wear my sneakers to the meeting. Today has been one long disaster.”

Lainey chuckles, crossing her arms. “Sneakers, huh? Well, you made it through, didn’t you?”

“Barely,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.

Her gaze softens as she studies me. “You’re still thinking about what happened two Fridays ago with Wyatt, aren’t you?”

I sigh and look up at her. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about Denver.”

She quirks an eyebrow, intrigued. “Denver?”

I hesitate for a moment, then decide to spill it. “I haven’t told you about last week yet. I was in Denver for a client, and I made time to watch Wyatt play live. He hurt his shoulder really bad during the game, and I figured I should check up on him before I left. ”

Lainey’s eyes widen, clearly intrigued. “So what happened?”

“I showed up at his hotel with dinner, and I thought I’d finally tell him the truth, but… things led to something else, and we ended up having sex. Then I panicked and told him to keep it casual.”

Lainey’s jaw drops slightly. “Wait, what? You told him to keep it casual after all that?”

“Yeah.” I cover my face with my hands. “I freaked out, okay? And now I’ve been keeping things kind of professional since Denver. Just checking in with his PR stuff. Plus, he’s been busy with his hockey games, so we haven’t really talked much since.”

Lainey lets out a low whistle, walking farther into my office. “So, what are you going to do?”

I shrug helplessly. “I don’t know. It’s eating me alive, to be honest.”

Lainey studies me for a moment, then smiles. “How about this—I’ll take Jasper off your hands tonight? My nephew is coming over for a sleepover, and the two of them can have a little party. That way, you’ll have some time alone to think or just relax.”

I blink, caught off guard by her offer. “Really? You’d do that? ”

“Of course,” she says with a reassuring smile. “You need a break, Clo. Go take some time for yourself.”

I nod, the guilt I usually feel about asking for help creeping up, but I push it down. “Thanks, Lainey. I’ll take you up on that.”

“Good. Take the night off. I’ll pick up Jasper and my nephew after school.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” I say gratefully. “I really do need this.”

Lainey grins. “Yes. It’ll give you time to think about things. And maybe stop avoiding your feelings for a certain hockey player.”

I manage a weak smile as she heads out of my office, leaving me to process everything. I slump back in my chair, trying to make sense of the mess of emotions swirling inside me.

Just as I’m about to dive back into work, my phone buzzes against the wooden surface of my desk, and Wyatt’s name flashes on the screen. A surge of warmth floods through me as I unlock my phone to find a series of texts from him.

Wyatt: Connecticut isn’t so bad. Look what I found.

Attached is a photo of a fancy latte from a local coffee shop, foam art perfectly swirled on top .

Wyatt: And, of course, we stay sharp on the ice.

Another text follows with a goofy selfie of him and his teammates during practice, their helmets tilted at odd angles.

I can’t help but smile. Maybe I’ve been overthinking things. Before I can respond, another message pops up.

Wyatt: I made a few posts.

Chloe: Glad that you’re keeping up with the posts.

Wyatt: I’ve gotta listen to my PR expert. So, I think it’s time for some answers. What’s your favorite ice cream?

I giggle, typing back quickly, feeling a bit of tension melt away.

Chloe: Oh, it’s like that, huh? Okay, chocolate.

Wyatt: Beach vacation or mountain getaway?

Chloe: Beach, all the way. Sand between my toes.

Wyatt: Knew it. Sweet or salty snacks?

Chloe: Sweet. Your turn now—favorite movie?

His response comes through almost immediately:

Wyatt: Good choice! Favorite movie? Easy. The Mighty Ducks, obviously.

Chloe: Predictable .

Another buzz. This time, it’s a selfie of him, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. The sight of him makes me smile, a much-needed reprieve from the chaos of the day.

Wyatt: That one’s just for you.

Chloe: Thank you.

For a moment, I let myself enjoy it—the playfulness, the connection. But beneath the surface, the reality of what I haven’t told him looms large. One truth withheld, and all of this could come crashing down.

Wyatt: Anytime. Catch you later, Chloe.

Chloe: Looking forward to it.

As I set my phone down, my heart still buzzing from our exchange, I finish my workday in a flurry, surprisingly without any more mishaps. It’s funny how just a few texts from Wyatt can turn my entire day around. The weight of everything that went wrong earlier seems to lift, leaving only the warmth of his words behind.

A few hours pass as I wrap up my tasks, double-check some emails, and finish organizing for the next work day. The office finally quiets down, allowing me to clear my head. I gather my things and leave work, excited at the prospect of an evening to myself .

When I step through my front door, I kick off my shoes and head straight for my bedroom to change into my most comfortable oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants—a matching pair in lilac that Lainey had gifted me for my birthday last year. I pull my hair up into a messy high ponytail and make my way to the kitchen to treat myself to some chocolate ice cream while I figure out my dinner plans.

Grabbing the tub of ice cream from the freezer, I pop off the lid and scoop a spoonful. Jasper would definitely give me a lecture if he saw me eating straight from the container, but some indulgences are worth keeping to myself. Just as I’m savoring the sweetness, the gentle tap of my spoon against the counter is interrupted by a knock at the door.

I shuffle across the cool tile floor in my socks and pull the door open. My heart leaps into my throat when I see who’s standing there. Wyatt. Holding a takeout bag. The corners of my mouth lift before I even realize it, but panic quickly takes over.

Without thinking, I slam the door shut.

“Chloe?” Wyatt’s voice filters through the door, laced with confusion .

“What are you doing here, Wyatt?” I call through the door, eyes darting around to make sure nothing of Jasper’s is in sight.

“I brought you dinner,” he replies, the warmth in his voice making me feel all kinds of guilty.

“I thought you were in Connecticut?”

“I was,” Wyatt says, a soft chuckle following his words. “When I texted you, I was actually laid over in Denver. Come on, open up.”

I glance around the living room. No shoes or backpacks. No toys, except for the T-rex under the coffee table, but that’s easy to fix. I clear my throat. “How nice of you. Give me a second. The house is a mess.”

He laughs softly. “It’s fine, really.”

I sweep the T-rex under the couch with my foot, a twinge of guilt tugging at me as I do a quick check to make sure nothing gives away the fact that a child lives here. I haven’t told Wyatt yet, but I will.

Thankfully, I’ve been redecorating, so the photos are down. After one last look around, I take a deep breath and open the door again.

“Come in,” I say, trying to sound casual.

Wyatt steps inside, the scent of marinara wafting from the takeout bag. His gaze sweeps over me, taking in my comfy clothes, and he smirks. “Cute look.”

“I was under the impression I’d be alone tonight,” I quip, stepping aside to let him pass. The familiar smell of his cologne washes over me as he moves through the doorway, wrapping me in a warm, comforting cloud.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he says with a grin, heading toward the kitchen. “I actually showed up at your workplace first, but you’d already left. Luckily, I ran into Lainey, and she was kind enough to give me your address.”

“Oh, she was, was she?” I shake my head, making a mental note to thank—or scold—Lainey later. I follow him into the kitchen, where he’s already setting up the takeout containers on the counter.

“I figured you’d be too tired to cook,” he continues, his tone casual as if he hasn’t just dropped in on me unannounced.

I glance nervously around the kitchen. No sign of Jasper. Thank God. “Well, I was just contemplating my dinner options,” I say, sliding into a chair at the table. “Apparently, ice cream was on the menu.”

Wyatt chuckles, setting the food down and giving me a playful look. “Chocolate ice cream for dinner? That’s one way to adult. ”

“Hey, I’m allowed,” I reply with a grin. “What did you bring?”

“Pasta,” he says, pulling out two containers. “Figured it’s hard to mess up pasta.”

We sit down, the clink of silverware filling the quiet between us. The ease in his presence washes away some of my earlier stress, though my heart still beats a little faster than it should.

“So, what made you decide to drop by tonight?” I ask.

Wyatt leans back in his chair, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “I just needed to see you. I had a rough day. Everything seemed to go wrong, from a broken skate blade to getting stuck in traffic. I guess I figured seeing you might be the only thing that could make it better.”

I bite my lip, his words pulling at my heart in ways I hadn’t expected. “Well, I’m glad you came. I needed this too.”

His gaze locks on mine, and for a moment, the weight of everything we haven’t said hangs between us. “Can I stay the night?” he asks softly. “Just to make sure nothing else goes wrong?”

My eyes flick down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. It would be easy to say yes, but the secret I’m keeping looms over me like a dark cloud. Still, I nod slowly. “I’d like that.”

“Great. Anything I can do to help out tonight, just tell me. Hell, I’ll even do the mountain of dishes in the sink for you.”

My heartbeat quickens at the reminder that Jasper’s kid utensils are most likely piling up somewhere in that mountain. I place one hand over Wyatt’s. “You don’t have to do that. Just being here is enough for me.”

He breathes out a laugh. “If you say so.” He moves in closer and gifts me with a kiss. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

I grab my fork, ready to dig in. “Me too.”

For a few precious hours, the problems of the world fade into the background, replaced by the shared warmth of food and Wyatt’s laughter.

This is good. Almost too good.

“Chloe.” Lainey’s whisper slices through the morning calm, urgent and laced with an apologetic undertone I know all too well.

“Lainey?” My voice cracks as I squint, barely able to make out her figure framed in the doorway, backlit by the hall light .

“Sorry,” she mouths. “Jasper isn’t feeling well. He wanted you.”

“Shit,” I murmur, untangling myself from the sheets.

“I’ll give you a minute. We’ll be in the living room.” Lainey says softly, closing the door behind her.

I sit up, still processing everything, and that’s when Wyatt’s voice cuts through the tension. “You have a son?”

I hesitate, the weight of his question heavy. “Yeah…” I stand up, tying my robe around myself. “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but can we talk about this later?” My heart races, knowing this isn’t the ideal way for him to find out.

Wyatt sits up, watching me intently. His expression isn’t angry, more concerned. “Yeah. Go check on him.”

Relief washes over me, even though I know we’re far from done with this conversation. I give him a small nod and head out of the bedroom first. When I walk into the living room, I find Jasper slumped on the couch, looking pale and exhausted.

“Honey,” I say, rushing over and kneeling down in front of Jasper .

“Mommy, my tummy hurts.” His whimpers tug at my heart.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you. Let me walk Lainey and Joshua out first.” I rise and cross over to Lainey, who’s standing by the front door with her hand gently resting on her nephew’s shoulder.

“Thanks for bringing him home. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you Wyatt stayed the night.”

She shakes her head with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t think Wyatt would stay the night either. I should’ve called first.”

I open the front door, and we all step out. I pull the door mostly shut, leaving a small crack.

Lainey glances at the door before turning to me, her voice lowered. “Does Wyatt know yet?”

I swallow hard. “Not yet. I’m going to head inside and explain everything.”

She gives me a soft, understanding nod. “Good luck.” She looks down at her nephew and smiles. “Come on, Joshua. Let’s go.”

“Thanks again,” I whisper as they head down the hallway toward the elevators.

“Really, don’t worry about it, Chloe. You’ve got this,” she says, shooting me a quick wink before walking away .

With a sigh, I turn back toward the door, knowing what’s waiting for me inside. Not only do I have a sick child to tend to, but a furious hockey player as well. I take a deep breath, push the door fully open, and step inside.

To my surprise, Wyatt is already at Jasper’s side, crouched by the couch, a waste basket within easy reach. His presence is calm, and his voice is soft as he gently brushes Jasper’s hair from his forehead.

“Hey, champ,” he murmurs, “we’ll get you feeling better in no time.”

Jasper nods weakly, his blue eyes—mirrors of Wyatt’s—glistening with gratitude. It’s a picture that swells my heart until it’s sore, affection threaded with a pang of fear.

“Who are you?” Jasper asks, eyeing Wyatt as if he’s trying to decide whether he’s ever seen him before.

“I’m your mommy’s friend. My name is Wyatt.”

Jasper closes his eyes and leans his head back. “It’s nice to meet you, Wyatt.”

“That’s sweet, kid. But don’t worry too much about me right now. You should relax so your tummy doesn’t hurt so much. I’ve been sick like this before too. ”

Jasper opens his eyes and turns to him. “Really?”

Wyatt nods. “It’s the worst. But it’s nothing a little medicine and rest can’t fix.”

A smile spreads on Jasper’s pale face, albeit weak. “Mommy has plenty of medicine for me in case I get sick.”

Wyatt chuckles. “You’re pretty cute, kid. How old are you?”

My lips part as I anxiously tighten my hold on the tie of my robe.

“I’m seven,” Jasper mumbles, one hand gripping Wyatt’s. “I’m in first grade.”

“Seven?” Wyatt repeats, and he blinks a few times as if to make sure he’s heard correctly.

Suddenly the air stills, thickens, becomes something tangible between Wyatt’s slow turn and my hesitant step forward. His eyes lock onto mine, blue ice rimmed with betrayal, and I feel the floor tilt beneath me. In his gaze, questions form, unspoken yet deafening, and I stand mute, the truth a heavy stone in my throat.

He knows.