The Secret Play (Pucking Daddies #3)

10. Gemma

Chapter 10

Gemma

T he faint light of morning seeped through the windows when I woke up on the couch. For a moment, I wasn’t entirely sure where I was, the unfamiliar surroundings catching me off guard. Not in LA anymore, genius.

But this wasn’t my place.

Then, everything flooded back—the relocation, the date, the ribs, the movie, and the way I’d fallen asleep spooned against him, his arm wrapped protectively around me. What the hell was in those ribs? I hadn’t slept that deeply in years. If ever.

Careful not to disturb him, I shifted slightly, my limbs stiff from sleeping in the same position for hours. Casey was still asleep, his breathing deep and steady. His hair was slightly mussed, and his lips were parted just enough to let out the faintest hint of a snore. The sight made my chest ache in a way I wasn’t sure how to describe.

But nature was calling, and I didn’t want to risk waking him, so I slipped out from under his arm and padded toward the bathroom. The cool tile under my feet helped shake off the lingering grogginess as I splashed water on my face and stared at my reflection. My cheeks were flushed, my hair a bit of a mess, but I couldn’t help the smile on my lips.

We’d had a completely nonsexual date, and somehow, I felt even closer to him. First his favorite rib place, followed by his favorite movie. And when I told him there’d be no sex for the night, he was relieved. I saw it on his face. We were simpatico in a way that I didn’t quite understand, like we shared a vibe or something.

Megan was going to have a field day with this one. She’d probably demand to know his birth date so she could do his astrology chart and see if we’re destined or something.

I didn’t know what the future held for us, but I was eager to find out.

After a few minutes, I made my way back into the living room, ready to finish that nap. When I was gone, Casey had rearranged himself in his sleep, sprawling out on the couch. His shirt had shifted to the side, exposing a sliver of tanned skin and the curve of his shoulder.

That’s when I saw it.

The birthmark.

It wasn’t a subtle mark—it was shaped unmistakably like Italy, stretching along his shoulder.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat as my heart pounded against my ribs.

I knew that birthmark.

It was burned into my memory, as clear as the night I’d first seen it. That masquerade ball, five years ago. The man I’d called Red, the man whose face I’d never seen but whose warmth, whose voice, and whose body had stayed with me long after I’d left him.

Casey McConnell was Red.

No, no, no…

A wave of dizziness washed over me as the realization hit.

This man wasn’t just a stranger I’d hooked up with years ago.

He was Winnie’s father.

There had been no one else around that time. Just him.

My first instinct was to wake Casey up, to blurt out the truth and tell him everything. He deserved to know the truth. But as I stared at him, his peaceful face free of worry and the faintest smile playing on his lips even in sleep, a knot of fear twisted in my stomach.

What would he say?

How would anyone react to being woken out of a sound slumber by life-changing news? Would he be angry with me for not tracking him down? For not telling him he had a daughter? Would he hate me for making the decision to keep her without involving him?

I’d convinced myself all those years ago that I was sparing both of us by not reaching out. I hadn’t wanted to burden him with the responsibility of a child, especially when he’d never asked for one. And if I was honest, I hadn’t been ready to give up my dream job or the life I’d been building for myself in L.A.

And I didn’t know how to contact him. Not really. No name, no number.

I would have had to ask Nico to help him narrow the search down, and that wasn’t happening. As much as my brother understood I was an adult with a life of her own, if I’d asked him to track down the man I’d had my one and only one night stand with, he might have exploded.

But now… now everything was different.

Now, her father was in my life in a way I hadn’t expected.

And he was already starting to mean something to me—not just as Winnie’s father, but as a man I cared about.

I stood there for what felt like an eternity, my mind spinning with questions and doubts. I stared and stared, not sure what to do. Every possibility swirled into muck in my head, and I wanted to run away or tell him or beg him to forgive me or all three.

When Casey stirred and opened his eyes, I quickly wiped the panic off my face, replacing it with a forced smile. “Hey there.”

“Hey,” he said groggily, his voice low and warm. “You’re up early.”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice too bright. Old habits crept in, knowing exactly how to get me out of here. “Um, the ribs didn’t sit well with me. I think I need to head home.”

Concern flashed across his face, and he sat up, his hair adorably disheveled. “Are you okay? Do you want me to drive you?”

“No, no,” I said quickly, grabbing my purse. “I’ll be fine. I didn’t want to wake you, so I called a ride share. I think I just need to rest a bit.”

He hesitated, clearly reluctant to let me leave like this, but he didn’t press. “All right. Text me when you get home, okay? Just so I know you’re okay.”

“I will,” I promised, my chest tightening at the worry in his voice. “Thanks for understanding.”

He walked me to the door, his hand brushing mine briefly as I stepped outside. For a moment, I almost turned back, almost told him everything. But the words caught in my throat, and I gave him a weak smile instead.

“Bye, Casey,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Take care, Gemma.”

Thankfully, the rideshare came quickly, and my driver was a woman. She knew enough not to ask too many questions as she drove me home. Picking up a woman in last night’s clothes probably meant she didn’t want to answer a bunch of questions.

I replayed the memories of the night at the masquerade, checking and rechecking them over and over, and each time, the realization hit harder.

As I got out of the car, I made sure to give the driver all the stars and a hefty tip.

When I got home, Megan was sitting on the couch with Winnie, the two of them engrossed in a coloring book. Winnie’s bright red hair was pulled into two messy pigtails, and she was babbling excitedly about the food she’d drawn, her crayons scattered across the coffee table.

“Mommy!” she exclaimed when she saw me, running over to wrap her arms around my legs. “Look what I made!”

“That’s amazing, sweetie,” I said, ruffling her hair and planting a kiss on her cheek.

As Winnie ran back to her coloring, Megan raised an eyebrow at me, her expression equal parts curious and concerned. I followed her into the kitchen so we could talk privately. “You’re back early. Though, I guess technically, it’s late. What happened?”

I leaned against my fridge, my hands trembling slightly as I tried to find the words. “Megan,” I said, my voice shaky. “I think Casey is Red.”

Her eyes widened. “Who’s—wait. Red ? From the masquerade? Are you sure?”

“He has the birthmark, the one that looks like Italy that I told you about. The same gray hair. The same blue eyes. He’s been coaching the team for seven years, so he would have been there. It’s him.”

She leaned back on the counter, clearly stunned. “You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent,” I said.

Megan stared at me for a long moment before finally speaking. “Okay. Wow. So…what now?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, burying my face in my hands. “What am I supposed to do? Just blurt out, ‘Hey, by the way, you’re my daughter’s father’? What if he hates me for not telling him sooner?”

“I mean, you had your reasons,” Megan said carefully. “You were trying to protect him—and yourself. And Winnie. It’s not like you knew him or whether he’d be a good father. You didn’t do anything malicious.”

“But will he see it that way?” I asked, my voice cracking. “Or will he think I kept him out of Winnie’s life on purpose?”

Megan didn’t have an answer for that, and the weight of the situation pressed down on me like a boulder. She paused before asking, “What do you even want from him? Do you want him to be part of Winnie’s life? Or is this about your relationship with him?”

“I don’t know. I just…I don’t want to lose him. But I don’t want to blindside him, either.”

Megan reached across the gap between us, squeezing my hand. “Maybe you don’t have to figure it out right this second. Keep seeing him, get to know him better. Maybe that’ll help you decide what to do.”

Her words made sense, but they didn’t make the fear go away. “The longer I date him without telling him, the more he’ll hate me when he finds out.”

“ If he finds out. Gem, this is huge. You don’t have to tell him anything you don’t want to tell him.”

My voice shook. “But I want to tell him, Meg. I want to tell him everything right now. No more secrets.”

“Then tell him.”

“I…I don’t think I can.”

She gulped. “Do you want me to tell him?”

“Oh God, no! Wait, are you serious? You’d do that?”

“Don’t insult me with questions like that. I’d do anything for you, and you know it.”

“Right, I know, it’s just…”

“This is huge and it’s related to Winnie, so you’re freaking out extra?”

“Yeah.”

She pulled me in for a hug, and it broke me. I crumbled in her arms, weeping for the cruelty of the situation.

How could I tell him? How could I not? I was screwed either way.

Telling him might mean anything from him being overjoyed to learn he has a daughter, to an ugly court case over custody. Not telling him felt like hell, and it’d only been an hour since I’d figured it out.

I glanced over at Winnie through the pass-thru, who was now singing softly to herself as she colored. She was my whole world, and I’d done everything in my power to give her the best life I could.

But now, with this hanging over me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my choices were about to catch up with me.

For better or worse, Casey McConnell was in our lives now.

And I had no idea what to do about it.