Page 18 of The Hockey Contract

"It's not a customer," a familiar male voice replied. "It's your future husband's agent."

Leo strolled into the kitchen, looking far too cheerful for the early hour. "Good morning, ladies. Ready for your big day, Sienna?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I muttered, wiping my hands on my apron.

I noticed Chloe had gone oddly still, her usual animated expression replaced by something tense and guarded. "Leo," she said flatly. "What an unpleasant surprise."

Leo's smile tightened. "Chloe. Still playing with flour, I see. How quaint."

I looked between them, confused by the sudden hostility. "You two know each other?"

"Unfortunately," they said in unison, then glared at each other.

"We went to same Business School," Chloe elaborated reluctantly. "We were classmates."

"Rivals," Leo corrected. "Chloe here was determined to beat me for top of the class."

"And I did," Chloe said sweetly. "Right before you dropped out to chase hockey players for a living."

"Became a sports agent," Leo corrected, his smile razor-sharp. "And I seem to recall you were heading for a glittering career in corporate finance. How's that working out for you?"

"I found my passion elsewhere," Chloe replied coolly. "Some of us prioritize happiness over status."

The tension between them was palpable, crackling like static electricity. But beneath the hostility, I detected something else—an undercurrent of unresolved attraction, evident in the way their eyes lingered on each other a beat too long, the slight flush on Chloe's cheeks, the tightness in Leo's jaw.

I bit back a laugh, fascinated by this unexpected development. There was clearly a story here—one that neither seemed eager to share.

"As riveting as this reunion is," I interrupted, "I need to change before we go to the courthouse. Chloe, you’ll close up and meet us there?"

"Sure," she agreed, still glaring at Leo.

In the bakery's small bathroom, I changed from my flour-dusted work clothes into a simple blue dress I'd brought with me. As I smoothed my hair and applied a touch of makeup, the reality of what I was doing finally sank in. I was about to get a marriage license with Jax. In a few days, I would be legally married to him. I would live in his house, share his space, pretend to be in love with him.

The thought sent an unexpected shiver down my spine—not entirely unpleasant, which was concerning in itself.

Leo drove me to the courthouse in his luxury car, filling the silence with chatter about the upcoming ceremony, a simple affair at Jax's house with only the necessary witnesses and the social media strategy they'd crafted to announce our marriage.

Jax was waiting on the courthouse steps, looking uncomfortable in a dark blue button-down and slacks. When he saw us approaching, he straightened, his expression unreadable.

"You're late," he said as we reached him.

"By three minutes," Leo countered cheerfully. "Blame Seattle traffic, not me."

"Hi," I said awkwardly.

"Hi," Jax echoed, his eyes scanning my face. "You look... nice."

"Thanks. So do you."

Leo glanced between us, amusement evident in his expression. "Wow, such passion. Such chemistry. You two really sell the madly-in-love vibe."

"Shut up, Leo," Jax muttered, but I noticed the corner of his mouth twitch.

"We're working on it," I added, surprising myself with a small smile in Jax's direction. "Right, sweetie pie?"

Jax's eyebrows rose at my use of last night's text endearment, but he recovered quickly. "Absolutely, cupcake."

Leo snorted. "Well, at least you're trying. Now, shall we get this show on the road? We have an appointment."

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