Learn Your Lesson: A Single Dad Hockey Romance (Kings of the Ice)

Chloe

The weekend flew by in a tornado of boxes and helping hands, both Friday and Sunday filled with Will and his teammates moving boxes for me whenever they didn’t have practice or a game.

Their schedule was insane. Friday was a day off after the Boston game, and then they flew out for their away game on Saturday. They returned Sunday morning and still had practice even after the game and travel.

It made sense why he wanted me to move in. How the hell could he take care of himself with a schedule like this, let alone a five-year-old?

I’d tried to help with the unloading, but no sooner would I grab a box than a big, burly hockey player would quickly take it from me — usually with a wink, a smirk, and a reassurance that I should just relax.

Vince Tanev was there, whom I remembered was engaged to Maven. Jaxson Brittain was also helping, and I learned that he was dating Grace — Vince’s sister. But apparently Grace loved to travel, and so when Maven and Livia came over on Sunday afternoon with a large basket of wine, cheese, and fruit, Grace didn’t accompany them.

“Okay, when Will said he was moving you into the pool house, I was worried,” Maven said when she set the basket on the kitchenette counter. She looked around appreciatively. “But this is more like a penthouse.”

“It’s too much,” I agreed, tucking my arms so tight around me they felt like a straitjacket as I watched Vince dump another box in the bedroom after asking me where it went. He swung by where we stood long enough to sneak a kiss on Maven’s cheek, who batted him away.

“Like hell it is,” Livia argued, propping her ass up onto the granite. “You’re saving his ass. If I were you, I’d be asking for a gold card, too. And maybe a G-Wagon.”

Maven laughed, and I cracked my neck before blushing when they both swiveled their heads toward me at the loud sound.

God, I was so awkward.

“Listen, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you can easily lose yourself when you start getting involved with this team,” Maven said, her eyes soft as she approached me. One hand reached out to squeeze my arm. “So, Livia and I are always here to rescue you.”

“Starting with a girls’ night next week,” Livia added, hopping off the counter. “This bitch has wrangled me into DIY wedding crafts, which is utter bullshit considering how much money her soon-to-be husband makes.”

“It’ll be fun and you know it,” Maven teased her.

Livia scoffed. “You can’t call anything that doesn’t include a peg and a bottle of lube fun, bestie.”

“Liv!”

Maven tried to scold her, but was bent over in a laugh now as Livia winked at me. I couldn’t help it — I cracked a smile.

Who the hell were these girls?

I loved them already.

“Anyway, I’m not going through that torture alone. Grace is supposed to be in town, too, so I’m wrangling both of you into it with me,” Livia said, pointing at me as she floated past. “We’ll text you the details.”

She swung out the door, teasing one of the hockey players carrying in my cat tree on the way.

Maven smiled at me when she was gone. “I got your number from Will. I’ll add you to our group text. Okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“I gotta run. Make sure these boys clean up after themselves,” she said. “And hey, Chloe?”

“Yeah?”

“Welcome to the family. We’re a bit crazy, but I promise we’re fun.”

I couldn’t explain the way my heart expanded at that comment, at the word family. I thanked her, and then she was out the door with a princess wave, walking in stilettos in a graceful manner that would have been impossible for me to achieve.

The rest of Sunday was a blur.

I hadn’t packed that much over — at least, I didn’t think so. Still, with three cats to get settled and limited time to move things from my house to Will’s in-between practices and games, it felt like I had blinked and the weekend was over.

That evening, once Ava was in bed, I put on an episode of the Stuff You Should Know podcast — this one about sloths — and got to work unpacking and organizing.

Maven was right. The pool house was more like a house house, and it was at least twice the size of the one I was currently renting. The main living area was expansive, with a stained alder ceiling and polished concrete floor. Plush rugs kept the space warm, along with the massive cream couch piled high with pillows I was certain Will didn’t pick out, a cozy electric fireplace, and two oversized leather chairs fit for hockey players the size of my new boss.

The living area bled into the dining area and kitchen, which looked fresh out of a magazine with the navy cabinets, gold hardware, and white marble kitchen island. Nacho had already made himself at home on that island, sprawled out and flicking his tail as he watched me unpack a few of my favorite tea mugs.

Pepper was too busy exploring to sit still. I had to be careful with the gigantic glass doors that opened to the pool. As beautiful as they were, they only begged my mischievous cats to test their luck — to see if they could slip through my legs and out that door before I had the chance to close it.

Pepper would be the first to try, no doubt. He had already figured out how to climb up onto the mantel over the fireplace, as well as scale the empty floating shelves Will had told me I could outfit with whatever I wanted to. I was already plotting out which books and art supplies would go where.

Coconut, on the other hand, was still hiding somewhere — likely under the gorgeous king-size bed. Every time I walked through my new bedroom, I stopped and let out a dreamy sigh at the sight of it. It was memory foam and flush with expensive bedding that made it feel like I was sleeping on a cloud.

It felt as strange as it did comforting, unpacking my belongings as the evening slipped by. Something about the pool house, about Will and Ava in general felt… natural, like they were family already and I’d visited a hundred times.

Then again, everything about it also felt incredibly disconcerting.

I was trying to discern my confusing emotions when my phone rang, a FaceTime request coming through with my mother’s picture on the screen.

With a sigh and a silent prayer to whatever God there was, I propped my phone against one of the giant candles at the kitchen island and took a seat at the bar, tapping the green button to answer the call. Just like always, I’d been texting my mom and grandmother every day — which meant they were fully updated on my situation.

Updated… but not entirely happy.

“You look tired.”

I flattened my lips but managed a smile. “Hello, Mom. Nice to see you, too.”

“You do look tired. Is that man not helping you at all?” Grandma chimed in, poking her head up behind Mom. “Typical.”

“I bet he’s inside his big fancy mansion stuffing his face and watching sportsball,” Mom added with a shake of her head.

“Mr. Perry is probably sleeping,” I chastised them both. “He has practice in the morning and usually gets up early to spend time with Ava before school. And I’ll have you know that he had half his team helping me move, and I didn’t lift a single box.”

My mom and grandma gave each other a look, their lips flat and a little hum of disapproval leaving their chests at the same time. They had it down now so they were in sync, like a symphony of suspicion.

It wouldn’t matter if a man paved a street of gold for me. In their eyes, he’d still be a man — and therefore, a pest.

It was too easy to see our similarities reflected on my phone screen, from our pale, moonlight skin to the soft, coral pink color of our lips. Where Mom got her father’s rich brown hair, I had the same copper tone as my grandma — though hers would go white if she didn’t dye it now. All three of us had the same thick, dark lashes and wide brown eyes. Grandma’s eyebrows had thinned to be almost non-existent except when she drew them on with liner, but Mom’s were still as thick and bushy as mine. Grandma was petite and thin, but Mom was curvy just like I was, her face round and soft where Grandma’s was hard and angular.

“How was Rummy tonight?” I asked.

“You would know if you wouldn’t have canceled on us,” Grandma said, arching a brow. “We had to ask Genevieve to play.”

Mom shuddered. “You know how I feel about that woman.”

Yes. Yes, I did. In fact, I was pretty sure everyone in their little senior community knew how Mom felt about Genevieve. Something my mother excelled at was wearing her mood on her face like a flashing neon sign. It wasn’t that she or my grandmother never smiled, just that those smiles weren’t always friendly — and if they didn’t care for you, you’d know it.

“Thank you for understanding that I had to unpack tonight,” I said. I stood a bit taller as the words came out, proud of myself for not apologizing. That was usually my go-to.

Grandma hmphed, waving her hand and walking out of the frame as Mom studied my background.

“Looks nice,” she commented. “Have you checked the locks to make sure that man can’t get in when you don’t want him to?”

“Mom,” I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. “For the fifteenth time, Mr. Perry is a gentleman and a father. He has been nothing but respectful to me.”

“Mm-hmm, and I’m sure that’s not part of his master plan to get you in his bed.”

My cheeks flamed, and I covered my face with my hands, shaking my head.

“We know better,” Grandma called from somewhere in the small home they shared. “You be careful, Chloe May. The last thing you want is to end up pregnant. You still have that pepper spray Grandma got you, right? And you remember the moves from class?”

“Always go for the groin,” Mom chimed in. “Or if he comes at you from behind, smash his foot with all your might. It only takes—”

“Twenty pounds of pressure to break a bone,” I finished for her on a sigh. “Yes, I know. And yes, I have the pepper spray, Gran, but I’m not going to need to use either. Because Will Perry is a nice man, giving me a great job with great pay and a lovely place to live.”

They still didn’t seem sold on the idea, and their glances at each other told me as much. But what they didn’t know was that accepting this job meant that I’d be able to do something I’d always wanted to do for them.

Pay off their debt.

It was enough pressure weighing on me as the first woman in our family to go to college. Add in the fact that Mom and Grandma had taken out a heap of loans to ensure I could do so, and there was a layer of guilt on top of that pressure.

It wasn’t from them. They always insisted they were glad to help. What did they need money for, anyway, Grandma would titter. But I saw the stress they tried to hide. I overheard the many conversations in their kitchen when they thought I was asleep, when they were struggling to pay their bills or asking for deferments of the loan payments that kept rolling in.

They had sacrificed so much for me over the years, pulling together to raise me as parents when both their partners had deserted them.

We were a trio. I loved them so fiercely it made my eyes sting when I thought too much about it.

Blessedly, the conversation turned from their man-hating comments to them asking how school was, and filling me in on the latest gossip from the Bingo hall. After about a half hour, I started wrapping up the call with the excuse that I wanted to finish getting unpacked and get some sleep for school the next day.

I knew they were worried about me. I knew, even if they didn’t say it outright, that there was a part of them worried I was going to get myself into trouble.

But I’d show them. I’d make them proud.

I would save money. I would pay off my own student loans. And I’d save to provide for myself even long after this job came to an end, if that was what happened.

I didn’t know why their approval meant so much to me, and tried not to dwell on it as we ended the call. I was exhausted by the time we finally did, and once I was as unpacked as I needed to be, I climbed into my new cloud-like bed with a sigh…

And proceeded to sleep only a couple hours before I was wide awake again.

This was normal for me. It didn’t matter how comfortable the bed was. As soon as I woke up to use the bathroom, my brain would start racing.

I knew the key to getting myself back to sleep. I needed to go for a little walk around the house and eat a snack. Unfortunately, I hadn’t brought any groceries with me, and hadn’t shopped for myself yet. Chef Patel was already spoiling me, making it so I didn’t have to worry about meals.

The bottle of wine Maven had brought over was tempting, but the last thing I needed was a hangover or to still be drunk on my first morning officially working for Will. And sadly, cheese wasn’t going to cure my sweet tooth right now, either.

Throwing my robe over my pajamas, I quietly tiptoed out of the pool house and walked around the pool a few times, the January air cool against my hot cheeks. I smiled at the safety gate surrounding the gorgeous pool. Of course, Will had thought of that, of protecting Ava even if it meant disrupting what most interior designers would claim as the “aesthetic.” He was a father first, above everything.

It was quite unfair how hot that was.

My stomach kept growling as I paced, appetite insistent on me finding some sugar. I was debating digging through my purse to see if I had peanut butter crackers stashed in there when the light to the kitchen in the main house flicked on, casting a warm glow over the pool.

I saw Will’s shadow next, and I smiled, making my way to the sliding glass door. He’d left it unlocked in case I needed to get inside for anything, but he still jumped a little when I slid it open, his hand gripping the fridge handle tight as he whipped around.

He relaxed a bit when he realized it was me, though the way his scowl deepened didn’t do anything to ease my late-night anxiety. The sigh he let out next as he pulled a gallon of milk from the fridge didn’t exactly make me feel welcome, either.

The man was harder to figure out than the sewing method for a Victorian bustle dress.

He was the one who asked me to move in. He was the one who said he wanted this. And yet, all weekend, he’d grumped about like I was the biggest inconvenience.

“Ah, we meet again,” I teased as I slid inside the kitchen, taking my familiar spot at the island. “Only this time, you’re not coming home from an away game. Don’t tell me you have midnight existential crises, too?”

Will harrumphed, giving me a look before he grabbed a glass from the cabinet. He held one toward me in a silent question, his eyebrow raised, but I shook my head.

“I’m more of a snack girl at this time of night,” I said. “Got any cookies?”

Will stared at me for a long moment before plucking a pack of Oreos from the pantry. He slid it in front of me, and I let out a very unladylike groan of approval before ripping the packaging open and popping one into my mouth.

“So,” I said when Will just shook his head at me. “Are you changing your mind now that I’m here?”

He frowned. “Of course not. Why would you ask that?”

“Oh, only because you’ve been alternating between giving me death glares and stomping around here like a grumpy bear the last two days,” I said with a shrug, plucking another cookie from the package. I debated dunking it in his milk, but thought it would be better to keep my hand in tact since I had to teach in the morning.

Will let out a sigh, staring at the glass in his hands before taking a small sip. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s not you, it’s just…”

He fell silent, his jaw working like he was chewing on the words he wasn’t sure how to say.

When his eyes slid back up to meet mine, they were laced with sorrow, with a vulnerability that nearly made me choke on the cookie I’d half-swallowed.

“You have no idea how hard this has all been for me.”

He didn’t have to elaborate on what this meant. It was written in every line of his face.

This poor guy had been battling being a single father, on top of a high-performance athlete, all while flipping through a catalogue of sorry excuses for nannies who only added to his stress.

My bet was he was wondering how long I’d last, wondering how long he could count on me before he’d be back to square one.

I stopped chewing, holding his gaze a moment before I swallowed and nodded. “I think I’ll take that milk now.”

He poured me a glass, and I washed down the dry cookie in my throat before finding his gaze again. How he could look tired and yet devastatingly handsome at the same time was a very unfair magic trick. Somehow, the bags under his eyes only made him more enticing. Paired with the way his long hair was half-contained by a hair band at the nape of his neck, and half-mussed by what I assumed was him running his hand through it, he looked like a paid model for an underwear ad.

At least he was wearing pajama pants and a white t-shirt.

I probably would have fainted if he was shirtless.

“I’m sorry it’s been hard,” I finally said when I could speak again. “But… hopefully this is the start of it being easier. Hopefully I can help take some of the pressure off.”

He nodded, his eyes finding his hands again. “So… midnight existential crisis, huh?” He cocked an eyebrow when he looked at me again. “This a nightly occurrence?”

“Close to it. Sometimes I go a few days without one, but that’s rare.”

“And what is it that keeps you awake?”

“Oh, you know, thoughts of how we’re a tiny marble of life floating in space, in a universe where there are more stars than grains of sand on Earth.”

“Is that all?”

“And how I’m twenty-six and single, with three cats and no real friends, and no real chance of meeting anyone since I’m devoted to my job and have exactly zero interest in going out or talking to men.”

He nearly spit out his milk at that last confession, and then blinked several times, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist before opening his mouth and shutting it again.

“You asked,” I said with a smile, and then I dunked another cookie in my milk and popped the whole thing in my mouth on a shrug.

“You act like twenty-six is old.”

“I’m not saying it’s old,” I argued. “I’m just saying that I could have a serious boyfriend if not a husband at this age, but instead I have three cats.”

He wrinkled his nose at that, which made me chuckle.

“Why don’t you go out?”

“Because it sucks,” I said on a laugh, arching a brow at him. “Come on. You of all people strike me as someone who knows that fact, too. When your teammates go out after a game, do you join them?”

“Absofuckinglutely not.”

“See?”

“But I’m a dad,” he pointed out.

“Well, I’m a homebody,” I said, shrugging. “I don’t know. I just… I don’t like it. I don’t like the big crowds of people, or strangers pushing all up on me, sweaty and drunk. I don’t find it fun to stand in the middle of a bar or club with lights flashing and music pounding. Trying to scream over the noise to have a conversation?” I cringed. “No, thanks.”

“You make some good points there,” Will conceded.

“I like being home. Home is… nice,” I said with a smile. “It’s cozy. I like to sew, or do a puzzle, or hang out with my cats while I read a great book.”

“Maybe you should just have friends over for a night in, then.”

“Sure. Doesn’t help with the dating situation, though, does it? Can’t exactly ask a guy from Hinge to come to my place for our first meeting. Not without risking death or abduction, anyway.”

That made his face harden into stone, like he was something between a jealous boyfriend and an overprotective father. Not that I’d know what either of those actually looked like — but I could imagine.

“Anyway, it’s fine,” I said, waving him off. “Anxiety manifests in strange ways. I’m actually okay with this. In about an hour, I’ll be soothed and have a belly full of sugar and will go right to sleep.”

Will smirked at me — yes, smirked — and the sight of that slight curl of his lips made my thighs clench together.

When his eyes slowly raked over me, I nearly combusted.

He never rushed his observation, never seemed ashamed of it. He took his time, his gaze lingering on every spot where a sliver of my bare skin showed, like he had all night to look at me and intended to spend it doing just that.

“I’m sorry about your wife.”

That snapped his gaze to mine, and my eyes shot wide.

Did I just fucking say that?!

Sometimes, my mouth moved before my brain did, and now, I was nervously fidgeting and trying to think of something to add to that sentence that would make it less awkward and rude.

I came up empty.

“I just mean, I know you said things have been hard,” I finally stammered, my neck hot enough to melt gold. I played with my necklace, plucking it from my skin and running the charm along the chain as if I was scared it actually would melt against my skin. “With the nannies. And I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, and I…” I cringed. “I’m sorry.”

I closed my eyes shut tight, peeking one open and then the next.

Will just held my stare, his face void of emotion. “Thank you,” he finally said.

“What was she like?”

Oh, my God, Chloe.

Stop. Talking.

Will rubbed the scruff on his jaw, cracking his neck one way and then the other. His gaze was focused on the kitchen island now, like his thoughts were far away.

“Wild,” he finally answered, and a ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Jenny was absolutely wild. She was a free spirit, never gave two shits about what anyone thought of her. She liked what she liked and hated what she hated. She was the first to dance on the bar or jump into the ocean naked after midnight.”

I didn’t know why, but my chest tightened, a pinch of jealousy surprising me. The way he looked when he talked about her was the way any woman would dream of being spoken about, like she’d been his entire world.

She also sounded cool — and I was anything but.

The comparison monster only hung around for a moment before I mentally slapped it away, and genuine sorrow slipped in to take its place.

This man lost his wife, the mother of his child.

“How did you meet?”

Will’s eyebrows lifted and lowered, like he was laughing to himself at the memory. “At some sorority party in college. You would have hated it,” he added with a glance from beneath his brows. “Sweaty, drunk people everywhere.”

I smiled.

“I went with some of my teammates, and as soon as we walked in, she hooked me by the arm and dragged me to do shots.”

That surprised me, since he didn’t drink now. At least, I hadn’t seen him drink, and I learned that first evening at dinner that he didn’t have wine in the house.

I guessed he’d been different back then.

“Love at first sight?” I guessed.

“Not at all, actually. We were just friends. Best friends,” he clarified. “We hooked up a time or two in college, but nothing serious. We’d always laugh it off the next day. When I left college to start my NHL career with the Tampa organization, we didn’t think we’d see each other again. But about a year later, she got a job offer in St. Pete. She moved here, we started hanging out, one thing led to another, and we found ourselves in bed together… and then she got pregnant.”

My eyes shot wide.

I did not expect that.

“I couldn’t believe it when she told me, but strangely, neither of us was upset. We were just kind of like… okay, I guess we’re doing this. We got married a couple weeks later, just a small ceremony on the beach.”

He cleared his throat, standing up straighter and looking at the now-empty glass in his hands.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

“Because I asked.”

He lifted his brows, but then fell quiet for a long time. I realized what he meant by that statement was that he wasn’t used to talking so much. Maybe not at all.

It made me giddier than it should have to know he felt like talking to me.

But the longer silence fell between us, the more I wondered if the conversation was over. I was just about to drink the last of my milk when he started talking again.

“We loved each other, but not in the traditional way. We had fun together. We had respect for one another. And we knew we’d make good parents.” He shrugged. “I was too busy with hockey to care about trying to find a partner, and she seemed content with me — at least for the moment. It didn’t make sense to anyone else but us,” he admitted. “But that was all that mattered.”

“What happened to her?”

Again, the words shot out of me, and I curled in on myself when Will’s gaze hardened and landed on me.

“She got on birth control about a month after having Ava. The doctor said she was fine.” He swallowed. “But she wasn’t. She experienced a blood clot, but the symptoms were so mild… we didn’t really know anything was going on. Not until she got really dizzy one day, and felt like she couldn’t breathe.”

I covered my lips with my trembling hand, eyes watering, heart racing.

He was saying it so matter-of-factly, but I felt the weight in every word. I felt the pain he was barely holding at bay.

“It happened so fast,” he croaked. “One moment, she was lying down because she didn’t feel well. The next… she had a pulmonary embolism.” Will swallowed. “I called 9-1-1, but it was too late.”

I closed my eyes at his words, holding back tears I felt like I didn’t have a right to shed.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” I finally whispered, forcing my eyes open to look at him. “You didn’t have to, but I… I really appreciate that you did.”

He swallowed, nodding. “I don’t talk about it much to anyone. But… I guess you’re a good listener.” He paused. “Or I’m just exhausted enough to not fight against telling you the truth.”

My heart felt like it was being squeezed in an iron fist.

Two months.

She’d lived for less than two months with her daughter.

It was so impossible to imagine.

“What did you do?” I asked, locking my gaze on his. “After…”

Will cleared his throat and took his glass to the sink, rinsing it and tucking it in the dishwasher. “I think I’ve talked enough tonight.”

I jumped off my barstool. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry.”

He pointed a glare at me, cocking a brow, though the corner of his lips tilted just a quarter inch.

I shrugged.

It was habit.

“You’re welcome to sleep in one of the guest beds, if you can’t fall asleep out there,” he said, nodding toward the pool house. But I was already stifling a yawn, and I mirrored him, taking my glass to the sink.

“I’ll be fine. See you in the morning?”

We were standing so close now, less than a foot between us, and I found my feet rooted in place as I stared up at him.

“In the morning,” he agreed.

His nostrils flared a bit when his eyes traveled down, and I knew without looking that my robe was gaping, that the slim spaghetti strap top I wore beneath it did nothing to hide my large breasts.

But I didn’t cover myself, didn’t back away.

I swallowed, staying perfectly still.

And when Will finally inhaled a stiff breath and tore himself away, I swore I heard him mutter a curse under his breath on his way down the hall.