Page 11 of The Secret Play

I didn’t like that one bit.

“So, anyway,” I said, sharply cutting their sexual tension that made me want to barf. “When did you say the guys are coming here?—”

“Guys?” Megan brightened at the thought.

“Eh, now,” he said, gesturing to three massive SUVs pulling up in front of my house.

As a dozen of the Atlanta Fire’s best hopped out of the vehicles, Nico quickly introduced us and by the end of it, I’d forgotten most of their names.

I knew a couple of them from before I’d left—Beau, Victor, and Sergei—but the rest were a blur.

It was less than a minute before they were hauling boxes and furniture like it was a pre-season training drill. As soon as Winnie came out of her room to make me an asparagus and lime smoothie, she saw the players and jumped up and down, clapping. “Uncle Nicos!”

Nico laughed and scooped her up in his arms. “That’s right. It’s a whole fleet of Uncle Nicos to help get you all moved in.”

“Yay!” Winnie had always been that way. As much as I tried to drill stranger danger into my kiddo, she had never met a stranger in her life. When the guys passed by her, she greeted them with the poise of a Disney princess high on too much candy. A couple of the guys ruffled her red pigtails as they worked, and she basked in the attention.

It worried me.

Any of the players who were on the team five years ago could have been her father.

Being back home had made me paranoid.

I had never asked Nico if any of the players hadn’t worn a navy tux that night. I didn’t want to know, and I didn’t want him to suspect anything—it would have been a weird question to ask.

As far as he knew, her father was a one night stand that left me with a present. I didn’t tell him when it happened, because telling him would have opened up a can of worms.

The truth was, her father was probably one of the hospital employees. My kid was whip smart, so he was a doctor or a lawyer in my imagination. Had to be.

Not that a hockey player couldn’t be smart, but it seemed more likely to be one of the other men at the event. For that matter, he could have been some society douchebag who didn’t like going to events.

Or I was just kidding myself and her father was standing in my house right now.

I put the thought out of my mind to focus on the present. We were rebuilding our lives in Atlanta, and I’d never see her father again, so the whole thing was moot. Life had moved on while I was gone.

Megan had a new career that she liked and which let her stay home so she didn’t have the stress of leaving her house. Nico had made himself a family in my absence, even if that family was technically his coworkers.

They seemed to be a good group. The guys apologized when they cursed in front of Winnie, and one of them shooed me away from moving an end table and took it himself. It was sweet, but it also made me feel like I should be paying them.

“You didn’t have to drag them into this,” I told Nico.

“They volunteered,” he said, waving me off. “They owe me for all the times I covered for their asses on the ice.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” I said. “I was going to hire movers, but this is…better.”

“You mean cheaper,” Megan teased, nudging me.

“There’s that,” I admitted.

“And it’s a good show.”

“That, too.” We watched as the guys got hot and sweaty, moving everything into the house. It was fun to boss them around, but a little awkward. But being a single mom meant I had to take all the free help I could get.

By the time the last box was unloaded, dishes were stored, and the furniture was mostly where it needed to be, the sun was dipping low on the horizon, casting a steamy glow over the neighborhood.

I’d baked cookies as a thank you, so I brought the tray out to the front porch where they hung out, and Megan delivered lemonade and milk.

“Cookies?” Beau asked, his eyes lighting up as I handed him the tray.

---