Page 15 of The Hockey Contract

"Harrison! What's going on with you today? That's the third missed pass! Get your head in the game!"

I nodded tersely, refocusing on the drill. But my mind kept drifting to Sienna—her unexpected negotiation skills, her fierceness about her bakery, the way her eyes had lit up in my kitchen.

In the locker room after practice, Finn dropped onto the bench beside me.

"You look distracted," he observed. "Any progress with your baker girl?"

"She's not 'my baker girl,'" I corrected automatically. "But yes, we met yesterday to discuss the arrangement. She's considering it."

Finn raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? She might actually agree?"

"It looks that way," I confirmed, pulling off my practice jersey. "Leo's already preparing the paperwork."

"Wow." Finn studied my face. "You know, I was half-joking when I suggested the whole marriage thing. I didn't think you'd actually go through with it—or that any woman in her right mind would agree to marry you, even temporarily."

I shot him a look. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I just mean..." Finn hesitated. "Be careful with her, okay? This might be a business arrangement to you, but it's still marriage. Even a fake one has real consequences."

"We're both adults," I said, slightly irritated by his concern. "We know what we're getting into. It's mutually beneficial and temporary."

"If you say so." Finn didn't look convinced. "Just don't forget she's a person, not a contract clause. And living together tends to complicate things, even when it's supposed to be simple."

His warning stayed with me throughout the day, a nagging discomfort I couldn't quite shake. But it was too late to reconsider—Leo texted that afternoon confirming he'd sent the contracts to Sienna and her lawyer, and everything was proceeding as planned.

Later that week, I met Olivia at a high-end jewelry store on Fifth Avenue, to buy wedding rings for my fake marriage. The moment we walked in, a salesperson approached with a practiced smile.

"Welcome to Carlisle's. How can I assist you today?"

"We're looking for wedding rings," Olivia explained smoothly. "Something elegant but not ostentatious."

The salesperson beamed. "Congratulations! When's the big day?"

"Oh, we're not—" I began, but Olivia cut me off.

"Very soon," she said with a smile. "We're on a tight timeline."

I shot her a questioning look, which she ignored, following the salesperson to a display case.

"Why did you let her think we're the couple?" I asked quietly.

"Because it's simpler than explaining that I'm helping a hockey player buy a ring for his fake marriage," Olivia replied under her breath. "Now focus. The ring needs to look authentic but not over-the-top."

The salesperson presented several options, describing each in detail, while I tried to imagine them on Sienna's hand. Most seemed wrong somehow—too flashy, too modern, or too traditional.

Then I saw it: a vintage-inspired design with a center diamond surrounded by a delicate halo of smaller stones, the band intricately engraved with a subtle floral pattern. It reminded me of the vintage aesthetic of Sienna's bakery, elegant without being showy.

"That one," I said, cutting off the salesperson's description of another ring.

Olivia looked surprised. "Are you sure? I thought you'd go for something more modern."

"It's not for me," I reminded her. "It's for Sienna. And this seems like her."

Olivia studied me for a moment before nodding to the salesperson. "We'll take that one. And a matching band for him—something simple."

As the salesperson boxed up our selections, my phone rang. My mother's name flashed on the screen.

"Hi, Mom," I answered, stepping away from the counter.

---