Puck Pact: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (East Coast Series)

His daughter?

A daughter.

Alexander has a daughter.

I can barely form coherent thoughts in my mind, let alone out loud. “W-hat?”

He stalks out of the kitchen and heads for the foyer. “I don’t have time to explain right now, but I promise, I’ll explain everything to you later.”

It’s like I’m underwater, and everything sounds garbled.

He has a daughter?

He slips his arms into his jacket and snatches his keys off the entryway table. “I think her arm is broken, and I have to go to the hospital. You can stay here for as long as you want. Finish eating, or take it home—whatever you want. But I have to go.”

My mouth flaps open and closed as I blink up at him.

He leans down and presses his lips to my forehead. “I’m really sorry, Aarya.”

And then he’s out the door. I stare at it for a few seconds until Ellie’s wet nose bumps into my leg.

I glance down at her. “Did you know he has a daughter?”

She sits and cocks her head to the side.

“Some help you are.” I dig into my purse for my phone and send a text to the group chat.

Me: Am I the only one who didn’t know that Alexander has a daughter?

Celeste: 🤐

Cassidy: He told you?

Me: You traitors!!!! 🔪🔪🔪

Me: And you didn’t think to tell me this because…?

Cassidy: It wasn’t my secret to tell

Me: I’m your best friend. You tell me ALL the secrets!

Me: Even when you’re not supposed to.

Me: I’m your one.

Me: OMG… am I not your one anymore now that you’re married?

Celeste: 🍿

Cassidy: He wanted to be the one to tell you.

Cassidy: Trent says he kept it from the team for a long time too. He’s really private about her.

Me: Ask Trent if he knows he married a traitor

Cassidy: Yes, but she can suck a golf ball through a straw so it’s worth it

Cassidy: Sorry, that was him

Celeste: You look like you’d give good head, Cass

Cassidy: Thanks 😏

Me: Can we focus please?!

Me: A fake wife is one thing. But a fake step-mom?

Cassidy: Are you still at his house?

Me: We were having dinner and then he got a call and left

Me: His daughter got hurt and is on the way to the hospital

Celeste: Oh no, what happened? Is she okay?

Me: I don’t know

Me: I didn’t even know he had a daughter until 30 seconds ago

Cassidy: Trenton is texting him now, I’ll find out

Celeste: Poor thing. He’s probably so worried about her.

Me: Have you guys met her?

Cassidy: Only once at her birthday party last month.

Celeste: She’s really cute

Cassidy: Wait, where are you now?

Me: Standing in the middle of his house with his dog

Celeste: I love Ellie! She’s the best

Me: He’s a dog person and he has a kid. Those are some pretty big red flags if you ask me

Cassidy: Stop it. Those are the greenest flags I’ve ever seen

Me: Who’s the baby mama?

Me: Oh fucking Christ… IS HE MARRIED?!

Me: Please tell me he’s not marriedContent © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

Cassidy: Breathe, babe. He’s very much single

Cassidy: This isn’t the same scenario as your father

Celeste: Baby mama is nonexistent, but you should let him be the one to tell you about her

Me: How could he completely omit the fact that he has a child?

Me: Who does that?

Me: When did he plan on telling me—when I moved my things into the spare bedroom?

Cassidy: I know this is triggering for you, but hear him out before you make any rash decisions

Celeste: Don’t give up on him just yet, girl

Ellie’s whimper pulls my attention from my phone.

I follow the sound, and spot her in the kitchen lying down beside an empty bowl on the floor. “You thirsty?”

I fill up the bowl in the sink before placing it back down in front of her. She laps at the bowl until it’s empty, so I refill it again.

“Drink up. But I’m not taking you out on a walk and picking up your shit, so you can forget it.”

I can’t help but think about my father in this situation. He hid his real family from my mother for years—and he hid us from them. What kind of sick person can live a double life like that? How can you lie that much and be okay with it?

Does he ever think of us? Of me?

Alexander doesn’t seem like that kind of guy. Then again, who knows what he’s capable of? I don’t truly know him, despite what Cassidy and Celeste have to say.

Questions swarm my mind. I should leave. I should run out of here and never look back.

But my stomach ties itself in a knot as Alexander’s worried face flashes in my head. He was here, cooking a meal for me, when he could’ve been with his daughter…wherever she was. And now she’s hurt. Who knows how long he’ll be at the hospital for. I should get this all cleaned up for him.

I clear off our plates from the dining room table, and rummage through the kitchen cabinets until I find containers with matching lids. I scoop the leftover food into them, and stick them in the fridge. Ellie lies down at my feet while I scrub the pots in the sink and load everything into the dishwasher.

Cleaning helps me relax.

Once the kitchen is spotless, I venture around the rest of the house. I’m technically not snooping. I’m just…looking around.

The living room is next to the dining room, huge with a vaulted ceiling and a plush sectional couch in front of a mammoth-sized flatscreen, of course. It’s too dark to see outside the French doors leading out to the patio, but I can only imagine how lavish the backyard looks.

Ellie follows close behind me as I make my way down the hallway, passing a bathroom and several guest rooms until I get to the two closed doors at the end of the hall.

Peeking inside the first room, I flip on the lights and let out a small gasp as Ellie pushes her way between my legs and prances into the room, jumping right on the bed.

An explosion of pink assaults my eyes. Dolls in dresses; teacups and saucers; frilly pillows; and tiny pink shoes. I stand frozen in the doorway, not wanting to enter the innocent space, as if I’ll mess it up somehow just by being in it.

I try to imagine the large hockey player in this room—having a tea party or reading her a bedtime story—but I can’t. I can’t picture it because I’m still in disbelief that this is his reality. Every interaction we’ve had replays through my mind. But not once has he mentioned or even alluded to having a little girl.

How can he keep her a secret?

My chest squeezes, and it’s all too much. I back out of the room and opt for door number two instead.

Alexander’s scent hits my nose the second I step inside. Everything is neat, simple, and monochrome, much like the living and dining rooms. It’s like his daughter’s room is where the only ounce of color is stored in the entire house.

On his nightstand sits a picture frame, and my feet carry me over to it before I can stop myself. Reaching out, I lift the black frame, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.

Thick, dark curls and big brown eyes. Pudgy cheeks and little shark teeth. Her tiny hands wrap around the back of Alexander’s neck as she smooshes her face against his, squeezing him so hard you can feel it just by looking at the picture. She’s a mini-him. She’s adorable. And the pure joy emanating from his face is breathtaking.

The thought of something bad happening to her twists my insides. No wonder he ran out of here like the house was on fire.

Where is her mother?

Questions continue to assault me as I leave his room and close the door behind me. Ellie doesn’t seem to want to budge from the little girl’s bed, so I don’t bother to try to move her.

I head back to the living room and slump down onto the couch. Damn this thing is comfortable. I stare down at my phone and type a text to Alexander before deleting it, then retyping it, over and over again.

What do I even say?

I shouldn’t bother him while he’s tending to his daughter at the hospital.

Eventually, my heavy eyelids droop closed.

Five more minutes and then I’ll leave.

“I think she’s awake, Daddy.”

My eyes pop open, and I’m met with a tiny human and a large dog—both sitting way too close to my face.

Because I’m still on Alexander’s couch.

Fuck!

“Look. she’s awake! I told you!”

Alexander’s hushed voice enters the room. “I told you to leave her alone and let her sleep.”

The girl frowns as he scoops her into his arms. “But she’s awake now.”

“She’s awake because you woke her.” He glances down at me and gives me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I held her off for as long as I could.”

Sitting up, I turn my face away as I wipe around the inner corners of my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I must’ve fallen asleep.”

On his couch.

In his home.

With his kid here.

Ellie jumps onto my lap and her tongue slides along my cheek.

I scrunch my nose in disgust as I push her away. “Ew, dog.”

Alexander’s daughter giggles. “That’s how she says good morning.”

My hair is a mess and I no doubt have smudged eyeliner around my eyes. This is not how I want anyone in this room to see me, least of all the gorgeous hockey player who’s looking down at me with amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I should go.” I fling the blanket off my legs—don’t remember putting that on myself last night—and jump up from the couch.

“Wait, we made pancakes.” Alexander’s daughter reaches out for me. “I cut yours into the letter A for Aarya, and I put it on my princess plate. And you have to sign my cast. See? I broked it jumping on the bed at my friend’s house last night. You were sleeping when we got home so I couldn’t show you.”

I pause, lifting my eyes to the bright-pink cast on her little forearm. “Does it hurt?”

She nods. “It hurt-ed really bad when I fell. But the doctor said it’s a hair fraction, so it’s not too bad.”

Alexander rolls his lips between his teeth. “A hairline fracture.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

He presses a chaste kiss to her cheek before setting her down on the floor. “Why don’t you go finish setting the table, and give Aarya a minute to wake up.”

She disappears into the kitchen, leaving me alone with Alexander.

He shifts from one foot to the other, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. She has no patience when someone is asleep. You should see her on Christmas morning.”

“What’s her name?”

“Giuliana.”

“Pretty.”

He takes a step forward, but I move backward. “Aarya, I owe you an explanation. I know this is probably a bit shocking⁠—”

“You think?”

He grimaces. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Did you want me to find out? Because you haven’t said a word to me about that little girl.”

“I know. Once you told me you wanted to do the whole fake marriage thing, I planned on telling you. But then last night happened the way it did, and…” He lifts his shoulders and lets them fall. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”

“Why have you been hiding this?” I dip my head and lower my voice. “The world has no idea you have a child.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way.” He glances over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. “I don’t want her to have to deal with the paparazzi, the media, or anything else that comes along with my hockey life. I know it’ll happen eventually, but I’m just not ready for that yet. I want to keep her protected for as long as I can.”

“Daddy, hurry.” Giuliana sticks her head through the doorway. “Aarya’s pancake is getting cold.”

Alexander flicks his eyes to mine. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I understand if⁠—”

“Come on, kid.” I breeze past Alexander and head toward the kitchen. “Let’s see this princess plate you’re talking about.”

Just because I’m pissed off at her father doesn’t mean I have to upset Giuliana too.

Her eyes light up as she reaches out for my hand. “You’re sitting next to me over here. I always use the princess plate for breakfast, but you’re a guest and Daddy says we’re supposed to treat guests extra special, so I let you have my plate. Who’s your favorite Disney princess?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. I never really liked Disney movies when I was a kid.”

Giuliana freezes as she cranes her neck to look up at me. “Why?”

“I’m not really a princess kind of girl. I don’t like the idea of needing to be saved by a man.”

She tilts her head like she’s processing what I said. “The princesses can do the saving. Elsa and Anna save each other, and they’re sisters. I don’t have a sister, but I’d like one. Do you have any sisters? My friend Makayla has a brother, and he’s really cute but he drools a lot.”

Giuliana rattles off question after question, and I’m not sure which one I’m supposed to answer first, or if they’re rhetorical, but I’m starting to lose track of them.

She climbs onto the stool at the island, grunting as she maneuvers around her cast. Then she pats the cushion of the stool next to her. “This is your stool.” I sit, and she inches her stool closer to me until it knocks into mine. “Look! It’s a capital A for Aarya. Daddy let me use a butter knife to cut it out. He always cuts my pancakes into special letters and shapes. Do you like it?”

I nod. “It looks great. Thank you.”

Alexander steps into the room, side-eyeing me, while his daughter keeps talking.

“I like to dip my pancakes into the syrup like this.” She dunks one end of her pancake into a small cup of syrup. “But Daddy likes to pour the syrup on top.” When she brings the pancake to her mouth, a string of sticky brown liquid drips onto the counter and her lap, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “Daddy is a really good cook. He makes the best pancakes, but we also have a waffle iron.”

Alexander lifts a coffee mug and gestures to the Keurig. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Black, please.”

He scrunches his nose. “No sugar, or creamer?”

“Nope.”

“Daddy says I’m not allowed to drink coffee because it’ll give me too much energy,” Giuliana says, now with syrup somehow on her nose.

I nod. “You do seem to have a lot of energy.”

She grins, revealing all of her tiny teeth, as if I gave her a compliment.

Alexander sets down a mug in front of me. “Can I get you anything else?”

I snatch the cup and wrap my fingers around it, relishing in its warmth. “I’m good.”

He turns around and pours pumpkin spice creamer into his own mug that says Number One Dad.

I arch a brow. “You like pumpkin spice?”

“I do.” He clinks his mug against mine before taking the seat on the other side of his daughter. “And I don’t think I like your tone.”

I snort. “I just find it interesting that the big, tough hockey player likes pumpkin spice coffee creamer.”

Giuliana giggles. “He has dress-up tea parties with me too.”

Alexander gasps, clutching his chest. “My own daughter just threw me under the bus. Whose team are you even on?”

She squeals with laughter. “I’m on Aarya’s team now.”

“You little traitor.” He reaches over and tickles her stomach, causing her to let out an ear-piercing shriek. “That was supposed to be our little secret.”

I can’t help but stare at the scene in front of me.

Less than twenty-four hours ago, I was contemplating marrying this man for one-hundred-thousand dollars. It was supposed to be a simple arrangement. A business transaction, really.

But now…how am I supposed to live here?

Like this. With them.

A pretend husband is one thing, but a pretend family?

I can’t do this.

Giuliana’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Do you like your pancake?”

I tear one of the legs off the letter “A” and stuff it into my mouth. “I love it.”

She beams. “We’re going to the park today. Can you come with us?”

“Oh, uh, no. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Her bottom lip juts out. “Why not?”

My eyes fly to Alexander’s, unsure of what to say.

Alexander covers her hand with his. “Aarya has to work today.”

“What’s your job?” she asks.

“I work in an art gallery.”

“Do you paint?”

I shake my head. “People come in to look at paintings, and I give them a tour around the gallery. I teach them about the artists.”

“Can I come see your gallery?”

I hike a shoulder. “Sure. Do you like art?”

“I love art. I like to draw and color and paint. We paint at school, and my teacher says I’m a natural. That means I’m really good at it.”

I smile. “Maybe your artwork will be in a gallery someday.”

She whips her head around to look at Alexander. “Daddy, can we go to Aarya’s gallery today?”

“Not today, baby. We’re going to the park so we can spend some time together before I leave for my game tomorrow.”

My eyebrows push together. “Who stays with Giuliana when you’re out of town?”

“I have a nanny. She lives in the guest house.” He points somewhere over his shoulder. “She was one of my mom’s close friends.”

Sadness pricks my heart. He doesn’t have family to help him with his daughter, and she doesn’t have grandparents, or a mother.

I glance down at Giuliana as she dips another piece of pancake into the syrup, getting it all over her fingers, happy as a pig in shit.

Who did he have a child with, and why isn’t she here helping take care of her kid?

After I finish my A-shaped pancake, I ball up my napkin and push back from the island. “Well, thank you for breakfast. I should get going.”

Giuliana shoots up onto her feet. “You’re leaving already? But I want to show you my room.”

Alexander grabs her waist, pushing her back down until she’s sitting on the stool. “Easy. You have to be careful.”

I bring my dish to the sink so I don’t have to look into Giuliana’s sad eyes.

Puppy eyes just like her damn father.

“I need to head home and get ready for work,” I lie. “But maybe you can show me your room another time.”

“You’ll come back?” she asks.

Alexander watches me like he’s wondering the same question.

“Sure. You can give me a tour of your room, and show me some of the artwork you made.”

Without warning, she dives off the stool and into my arms. I stagger backward, catching her so she doesn’t tumble onto the floor.

She wraps her arms and legs around me like a little koala bear, squeezing me with all her might. “I can’t wait.”

Bile creeps into my throat, making it hard to swallow.

Fuck, I have to get out of here.

I set Giuliana down on the stool, and bolt out of the kitchen.

“Have you seen my shoes?” I ask to no one in particular as I lift the blanket off the couch to check underneath it.

“I took them off while you were asleep and put them by the front door.” Alexander grips my elbows to steady me as I spin around and bump into his chest. “Your things are all by the front door.”

I push out of his grasp, and storm into the foyer. My boots are beside the door, and my purse sits beside a tote bag on the entryway table.

“I packed leftovers for you,” he adds, gesturing to the containers inside the tote.

“Thanks.” I shove my feet into my boots and grab everything off the table, rushing as if I’ll be trapped here if I don’t get out of the house right this second.

Without looking back, I tear open the door…and then I’m gone.