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

Puck Pact: Chapter 22



“Excuse me. What the hell is that on your finger?”

My cheeks burn as I stick my hand behind my back. “Nothing.”

“That’s definitely not nothing.” Chanora darts around the counter and lunges for my arm. “Did you get engaged and not tell me?”

I grimace. “Maybe.”

She gasps as she wrestles my arm out and sees the diamond sitting on my finger. “Oh my god, this is beautiful.”

I smile a genuine one because it is a beautiful ring. “It was his mother’s.”

She clutches her chest as she swoons. “That’s so romantic.” Then she smacks my arm. “Bitch, how could you not tell me this as soon as you walked in this morning?”

I rub my arm. “I’m still getting used to being…engaged.”

“Didn’t I tell you? I knew you’d meet the one and put an end to your single girl days.” She pulls me into a hug, and squeezes me tight. “I’m so happy for you, Aarya.”

I fight the frown that’s pulling at my mouth. I didn’t realize how shitty it would feel lying to people about this. The world thinks I’ve found my happily ever after, but all I’ve found is a big fat paycheck.

“How did he propose?”

I clear my throat. “Uh, he’s a really private person so he did it at home.”

“Did he get down on one knee?”

I lie and nod. “Yup.”

Chanora squeals and throws her arms around me again. “This is so exciting.”

Carter strides into the lobby, and my stomach clenches in a tight ball. “What’s so exciting?”

I had wanted to hide this from Carter for as long as I could, mainly because I don’t want him to tell me that I’m not making work a priority just because I’m wearing a ring on my finger.

Too late now.

“Aarya got engaged.” Chanora thrusts my hand out in front of him. “Look.”

His eyebrows jump as he glances from the diamond to me. “Congrats.”

The word is as insincere as it can get coming from him, but I force a smile and thank him anyway. He’s been giving me the cold shoulder since I asked for time off for Greece, and as uncomfortable as it is, I prefer this to the sexual harassment.

He slides his arms into his jacket and digs into his pocket before pulling out his keys. “Chanora, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Once he’s gone, Chanora blows out a low whistle. “He is not happy with you.”

I roll my eyes as I laugh. “Good. I prefer him when he’s pissed at me. At least he’s not groping me anymore.”

She groans. “Hopefully he doesn’t start groping me next.”

I gesture to her very pregnant belly. “He’d have to be pretty fucking sick to grope a pregnant woman.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Me either.

As we’re closing up the gallery, Brittany, one of the newer hires walks into the lobby. She keeps her head down as she wraps her scarf around her neck.

I step around the front desk to catch up to her. “Hey, Britt. How was your day?”

“Fine.” She sniffles, barely glancing up at me. “See you tomorrow.”

“Hey, wait.” I move in front of her, blocking the door. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. I’m just not feeling well.”

Chanora and I exchange a knowing glance, and a bad feeling settles in my gut.

“You’re upset.” I dip my head, forcing her to look at me. “What happened?”

Her watery eyes bounce between me and Chanora. “It was…it’s…”

“It was Carter, wasn’t it?” Chanora blurts out.

A sob escapes her as she nods, and the tears stream down her face. “He told me not to tell anyone. He said he’d fire me.”

I grip her shoulders. “What did he do?”

“He kissed me. And when I tried to get him off of me, he pushed me against the wall and did it again.” She covers her face with her hands. “I was afraid to tell him to stop because I need this job, and I didn’t want to make him mad.”

“Son of a bitch.” I spin around and run my fingers through my hair. “He can’t keep doing this.”

“Has he done this before?” Brittany asks.

Chanora nods. “To quite a few different employees.”

“We have to put a stop to this.” I pace the length of the windows, gazing outside at the people walking by. “We have to do something.”

“We don’t have proof,” Chanora says. “It’s our word against his. You know this.”

“Then we need more than just our word.” An idea takes form in my mind, one I’m positive could work against the creepy fucker. “We’ll get video evidence.”

“How are we going to do that?” Brittany asks.

Chanora shakes her head. “No. I don’t like that idea.”

I swing my arms out wide. “What other choice do we have? We need proof. If we can get a video of him doing something inappropriate, then we can use it against him.”

Chanora folds her arms over her chest. “And how do you propose we get that video?”

I gesture to Brittany. “She and I can do it. One of us records it while the other…”

“While the other acts as the bait,” Brittany finishes.

I nod. “He can’t fire us with that video hanging over his head. And he wouldn’t dare to take a chance harassing anyone else.”

Chanora smooths her hand over her belly. “How are you going to get the video without him catching you? That sounds dangerous.”

“I don’t know.” I press my fingers against my temples and rub small circles against my skin. “I’ll figure it out once I get back from Greece. While I’m gone, you guys have to look out for each other. Don’t let Carter get anyone alone in his office.”

Chanora wraps her arm around Brittany’s shoulders. “I got you, boo.”

Brittany wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “Do you really think this will work?”

I nod. “I do.”

It has to.

“It looks beautiful on you.”

I stare down at the ring I forgot to take off my finger when I got back from work. “This isn’t real, Annie.”

She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Don’t say that. This might not be a marriage out of love and passion, but it’s a real commitment. This thing you’re doing for Alexander? It’s real. And I’m so grateful for you. I couldn’t bear to watch that boy lose the villa.” She places her palm against my cheek. “And I know his parents would be grateful for you too.”

“I wish they were here to see how wonderful his life is.” My eyes dart to Giuliana, who’s shoving clothes into the open suitcase on her bed. “I wish they could’ve met their granddaughter.”

I hate that his parents had to die, while my shitty ones are running around doing whatever the hell they want with their shitty lives.

Annie nods, her eyes following my gaze. “She’s something special, isn’t she?”

“She is.” I smile. “I can’t believe how easy it’s been living here with her.”

“Were you worried it wouldn’t be?”

“I don’t know the first thing about kids.” I let out a sardonic laugh. “And I didn’t exactly have a great role model growing up either.”

Annie frowns. “Are you not close with your parents?”

“My father left when my mother told him she was pregnant, and my mother kicked me out when I was a teenager. So, no. Not close at all.”

“Jesus,” she mutters. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

“Please, it’s fine.” I watch as Giuliana tries to fit her whole doll house into the suitcase. “I see myself in Giuliana. My father left me like her mother left her. It feels like there’s this empty space where the love I should have for my parents is supposed to be, and I don’t want her to feel like she’s missing anything in her life.”

Annie takes my hand and sandwiches it between both of hers. “That empty space? You’ll fill it when you have a family of your own to love.”

I scrunch my nose. “I don’t think I’ll ever have that.”

“My husband and I didn’t want children.” A smile tugs at her lips as she gazes at Giuliana. “But loving that little girl ended up being the greatest joy of my life. Sometimes you don’t know what you want until it smacks you in the face.”

I don’t bother arguing with her. Everything will go back to the way it was when this marriage is over, because that’s the deal.

Alexander’s footsteps in the hall pull my attention. “Hey, how was work?”

My eyes drop to his shirtless torso, snagging on that damn nipple piercing. Under the hallway light, I get a better view of his tattoo. Two stick figures—one tall with a hockey stick and one short with a dress—hold hands above the word DADDY written in shaky kid handwriting.

Everything about this man is sexy. He’s got that biker boy edge, wrapped in leather with piercings and tattoos, and slams grown men into the boards on the ice. Yet he braids his daughter’s hair, cooks chicken noodle soup, and cries when he watches Charlotte’s Webb.

“Hmm?” I literally have no idea what he just asked me.

He smirks as he tips my chin, bringing my eyes up to his. “Work. How was work?”

I clear my throat. “Good. Fine. It was fine.”

Guilt gnaws at my conscience. He would be livid if he heard about what happened to Brittany today, and there is no way in hell I’m telling him about my plan to catch Carter in the act. He’d tell me not to go through with it, and I refuse to be talked out of it.

“Good.” He wraps an arm around Annie’s shoulders, and drapes another around mine, peering into Giuliana’s room to see what we’re looking at. “Anyone going to tell her she can’t bring her doll house to Greece?”

“That’s all you, Big Man.”

He heaves a sigh like he figured as much, and steps into the bedroom. “Hey, baby. Don’t think that doll house is going to fit in your suitcase.”

She pouts. “What if I take some clothes out?”

“Twenty bucks says he lets her take the doll house,” Annie whispers.

I cover my mouth with my hand as I laugh. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

I return to my room to finish packing, and after Giuliana falls asleep, there’s a soft knock at my open door.

Alexander leans against the doorframe, the bastard still shirtless as if he knows exactly what that sight does to me. “You all set?”

“I think so.” I press a kiss to the top of Dash’s head before setting him down on my bed. “Just worried about being away from this guy.”

“I’ve kept Ellie at this place before, and they’re great with her. I think Dash will be fine.” Alexander steps into my room and lowers himself beside Dash on the bed, stroking the fur on his back. Dash rolls over and gives him his belly, a sight I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing.

I reach out and trace the outline of the tattoo on his ribs. “Didn’t expect you to have a tattoo.”

He glances down at it. “I got it last year after Giuliana drew it for me.”

“And this?” My fingers move along his chest, grazing the metal barbell.

He shudders. “When I was eighteen.”

I arch a brow. “You have a wild streak in you.”

“I used to be a lot more carefree before I became a dad.”

“Hard to picture now.”

He takes my wrist and turns my hand to gaze down at the ring on my finger. “My father always lived in the present. He never worried about the future, or the what-ifs. He’s the reason I love riding so much. He surprised me with my first bike when I got my license, and we used to ride together. It’s one of my favorite memories of him.”

“I always viewed bikers as reckless adrenaline junkies. But you’re not like that.”

“It gives you an adrenaline rush for sure. There’s always that element of danger there. One wrong move and it’s all over. Yet, I feel so alive when I’m riding. It’s raw, unfettered freedom. The feeling of the wind whipping against you; the power of the engine roaring under you. It’s exhilarating.”

Nothin in my life has ever made me feel that way.

I chew on my bottom lip. “Will you take me on a longer ride one day?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You’d want to?”

I do, and it takes me by surprise as much as it does him. But I want to know him. To see the other side of him that no one else gets to see. I want to peel back his carefully guarded layers and crawl inside. He doesn’t put on a show, doesn’t pretend to be someone he’s not. He’s real and true and honest, and the more he tells me, the more I want to know.

Alexander keeps his circle small, his life private—and I feel lucky to be part of it.

I nod. “As long as you promise not to kill me.”

He lifts my hand and presses a kiss to the top of it. “I’d never let anything happen to you.”


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