Page 34 of One Pucking Secret
This is good. Almost too good.
“Chloe.” Lainey’s whisper slicesthrough 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?”
