The Secret Play (Pucking Daddies #3)

32. Gemma

Chapter 32

Gemma

T he smell of buttered popcorn filled the kitchen, a scent so familiar it almost calmed me. Almost. The microwave timer ticked down, and I listened to the unpredictable arrhythmia of popping kernels, trying to focus on the mundane sound instead of the nerves twisting in my stomach.

The game was starting soon, and even though I wasn’t at the arena, I felt like I was waiting for my own face-off. Casey was leading the team into the season's biggest game, and I was here, stuck in my head about everything else—the story, the fallout, the fans. He was up against the meanest team in the league. They weren’t beyond pulling some bullshit to win this. I hated the thought of my brother facing off with those guys, but if the Fire won tonight, they’d be legends. More importantly, a win would make it harder to fire Casey.

Will the article be enough to save his job? Only time will tell.

I glanced toward the living room, where Winnie sat cross-legged on the floor, crayons spread out like a rainbow explosion. Her little brow furrowed in concentration as she colored a picture of what looked like a hockey player, complete with a stick and a jersey that vaguely resembled the Fire’s colors.

Megan perched on the couch, pouring wine into two glasses. She caught my eye and grinned. “You’re going to need this more than I do tonight,” she said, holding up a glass.

I forced a smile, wiping my hands on a towel as the microwave beeped. “You might be right about that.”

“What’s done is done,” she teased lightly. “But don’t worry, we’ll get through this game together. And hey, if it’s terrible, we have wine. If it’s amazing, we’ll still have wine. Win-win.”

Her voice was light, but I knew she sensed my tension. Megan had been my rock through any mess, always babysitting at a moment’s notice, or making me laugh. Tonight was no different, and I was grateful for her.

“You ready to cheer for your hockey hunk?”

“I’m here to watch the game,” I said, delivering popcorn bowls all around.

“Sure you are,” she said, smirking as she handed me a glass.

The knock at the door was so sudden that it startled both of us. I nearly dropped my wine, which would have been a crime. It was delicious. I froze, the popcorn bowl in one hand and my wine glass in the other.

“Expecting someone?”

“No,” I said, frowning. “Casey’s at the arena. He wouldn’t…”

Winnie looked up from her drawing, her face lighting up. “Maybe it’s Uncle Nico!”

I shook my head, dismissing the idea as I set the popcorn down. “No, baby. He’s got a game to play.”

But when I opened the door, there he was—my brother, standing on the porch with his usual easy grin.

“Nico?” I asked, baffled. “What are you doing here?”

He held up his phone like it was obvious. “You should really check your texts more often.”

“My phone’s dead.”

“Again? Do you ever charge that thing?” he asked with a dramatic sigh.

“What is going on?”

“Go get dressed. Wear something warm. The arena’s cold.”

I stared at him, my confusion deepening. “What are you talking about?”

Ignoring my question, Nico stepped inside, his gaze immediately landing on Winnie. His face lit up, and he scooped her into his arms like she was the center of his world. “Hey, kiddo! Want to come to the game tonight?”

Her squeal of delight was answer enough.

“We don’t have tickets,” I said, crossing my arms and giving him my best “mom” look. It always worked on Winnie, but I wasn’t sure it would work on my big brother.

He scoffed, waving me off. “You don’t need tickets. You have me.”

Megan raised an eyebrow, looking from him to me. “Aren’t you supposed to be, you know, playing tonight?”

“I will be,” Nico said casually like it was no big deal. “But first, all of you are coming to the game. Megan included.”

Her jaw dropped. “Me? Really?”

“Really,” Nico said, flashing one of his charming smiles. “Now hurry up. The limo’s waiting.”

“Limo?” I repeated, my voice incredulous.

“Yeah. I went a little overboard. But it’s for Winnie, so it’s worth it.”

Winnie clapped her hands in excitement, her eyes wide with delight. “A limo, Mommy! Can we go? Wait—what’s a limo?”

Nico laughed. “It’s a great big, fancy car with treats. You’ll love it.”

“Mommy, can we?”

The three of them gave me expectant eyes, the kind that said I’d be an asshole to turn them down. I sighed, glancing at Megan, who was already halfway to grabbing her coat. But I didn’t want to go anywhere tonight.

The article had been posted, and the comments got so bad that Megan had forced me to step away from my laptop. People called me everything from a selfish bitch to the Wicked Witch of the West. Casey had come out shining in the comments. Everyone poured pity and affection on him, some even saying they wanted his number. So, the article did what I wanted it to, but I certainly didn’t want to be anywhere near the arena. It was full of people who hated me.

But the longer I hesitated, the more upset Winnie looked.

“Fine,” I said, shaking my head. “Let me get dressed.”

Winnie cheered, Nico bounced her up in the air, and Megan ogled his abs when his shirt hem lifted from tossing my daughter. He caught Winnie, and Megan looked away so he wouldn’t see her checking him out. Which gave him a chance to spy down her sweater.

I didn’t know why, but it unsettled me and made me happy.

Megan had had a crush on Nico when we were kids, and until now, I didn’t know if it was mutual. But it wasn’t just a subtle cleavage glance that clued me in. I overheard the small talk he tried with Megan when I was changing in my room.

“So, Megan. How’s…things?”

“Um, good. Mostly. I guess.”

The following pause could not have been more awkward.

But then he asked, “Are you a hockey fan?”

“Well, I don’t know much about it,” she said. “But I’m always willing to learn.”

“Maybe tonight will help with that. If you want to learn, I mean.”

Never in my life had I heard Nico fumble around a woman like that. He was suave, cool, effortlessly casual about these things. But in my hallway, he sounded like a nervous teenager.

Which meant he liked her. It was weird for me, though. The thought of my brother and a woman who was like a sister to me…being intimate. I squirmed, thanks to the heebie-jeebies of that thought. But the truth was, it wasn’t such a bad thing.

As long as they were happy, I’d manage.

The limo waiting outside was sleek and extravagant, its polished black surface gleaming under the streetlights. Winnie practically bounced into the backseat, her hands running over the plush leather seats with giddy enthusiasm. The passenger area was light blue and purple, giving every shiny surface a glow.

“This is so cool!” she squealed, her little feet swinging as she settled in.

Megan immediately zeroed in on the champagne stash, pouring herself a glass and holding up the bottle. “Want some?” she asked, already halfway through her first sip.

“Not yet,” I said, settling into my seat.

Nico sat across from us, looking far too pleased with himself. “What?” he said when I gave him a pointed look. “You deserve it. Let yourself have some fun. You’re not driving tonight.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Seeing Winnie this happy made it all worth it, even if the extravagance felt a little over the top.

“Thanks, Nico,” I said quietly, my chest tightening with gratitude as I took a champagne flute from Megan.

“Anything for my baby sister.”

“Are you nervous about going against the Razors?” Megan asked.

I’d expected him to flash a grin, vowing that he was never nervous. But instead Nico said, “They’re a good team full of bad apples. This season, they pulled out some wins I never saw coming. They’ve been so unpredictable that the bookies in Vegas have been talking about it. The odds are against us for tonight, and the bookies are almost always right.”

I nearly dropped my champagne out of shock. “Nico Grimaldi, are you being humble for the first time in your life?”

He smirked. “Realistic. I expect the Razors to come after me tonight, so it’ll be good to have you three in the stands in case I get carted out on a stretcher. You can ride in the ambulance.”

Winnie clapped. “An ambulance ride, too?”

“Only if I get hurt, Win,” he said.

Her little face fell. “Don’t get hurt.”

“I’ll do my best.” He ruffled her hair and smiled, but I saw the pinch at the corners of his eyes. He had never been good at hiding his worry from me.

The drive was short, thankfully. Once inside the arena, it was hard to hear each other at first. Crowd noise drowned our voices. Winnie’s excitement was infectious as we made our way to our seats—prime spots behind the glass with an unobstructed view of the action. I couldn’t believe Nico scored us these seats. When I said as much, he said I shouldn’t doubt him.

“This is amazing!” Winnie said, her face pressed against the glass as she took it all in.

“It’s definitely something,” Megan agreed, sinking into her seat with a second glass of champagne. I had no idea how she had snuck it to our seats.

Nico handed me a tray of concessions before kneeling to give Winnie a quick hug. “All right, kiddo, I’ve got to get out there. You three have fun, okay?”

“Good luck!” Winnie called, waving as he jogged off toward the locker room.

I turned back to Megan, catching her watching Nico with an expression I’d almost never seen before on her face. But there was no mistaking that look. “You like him.”

“What? No,” she said quickly, her cheeks flushing.

“You totally like him,” I teased.

She huffed, crossing her arms. “Even if I did, it’d be weird. He’s your brother.”

“It’d be weird for me , but that doesn’t mean it’d be weird for you, and I’d get over it. And, for the record, I wouldn’t interfere. You two are grown adults, and you make your own choices.”

Megan didn’t respond, but the darkening blush on her cheeks said it all.

“Besides, you’ve liked Nico since the seventh grade.”

She laughed. “I was a kid when I told you that.”

“And some things never change.”

The game started strong, the Fire dominating the ice with an intensity that had the crowd on their feet. Winnie was glued to the action, cheering and clapping with every play. She didn’t understand much of it other than the cheering. She followed the crowd’s cues, getting into the game more than I had expected, and the people nearby encouraged her enthusiasm. She was having the best night ever.

But as the cameras panned across the audience, my stomach sank. I hadn’t noticed it when we walked in. People always held up signs for their favorite players, and I had brushed past them without a second thought when we found our seats. The cameras told a different story.

Scattered throughout the crowd were signs—“Justice for Coach!” “Gemma Pucked Up!” and similar phrases scrawled in bold letters.

Megan’s mouth dropped almost immediately, her brows furrowing. “What the hell?”

“It’s fine,” I said quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. “As long as no one says anything to us, we’ll stay.”

“But—”

“It’s fine,” I said firmly, cutting her off.

The signs were a harsh reminder of the scrutiny I was under. There was judgment that came with putting our lives out there. But I wasn’t going to let it ruin the night for Winnie. I could overlook it as long as they didn’t bother us directly.

This was Winnie’s moment, her chance to see her uncle in action and enjoy the game's magic. I could take the heat. I deserved it, after all.