Page 27 of The Hockey Contract

"Agreed. Rule two: we keep our personal lives personal. What you do in your time is your business, what I do in mine is my business."

She nodded. "Rule three: we're honest with each other about the arrangement. No pretending when it's just us."

"Reasonable." I hesitated. "Though we should probably be civil. For sanity's sake."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "You're capable of civility? That's news."

"I'm a delight," I deadpanned. "You're the one who dumped coffee on me."

"You walked into me!"

"You weren't looking where you were going."

"Because you were barreling down the sidewalk like you owned it!"

The familiar argument had somehow lightened the mood. By the time we pulled into my driveway, the tension had eased slightly.

Sienna's eyes widened as she took in the house. "It looks... bigger than the last time I visited."

"It's just a house," I said, suddenly self-conscious about the modernist mansion with its wall of windows overlooking Lake Washington.

"Said no normal person ever." She unbuckled her seatbelt. "Do you have a staff or something?"

"Just a housekeeper who comes twice a week and a landscaper." I got out and opened her door, an automatic courtesy my mother had drilled into me. "I'm not really here enough to need more."

A joyful bark from inside the car interrupted us. Sprinkles, Sienna's golden retriever, had been patiently waiting in the back seat and now stood with her front paws on the center console, tail wagging furiously. I had almost forgotten about her as she had been silent during the entire drive.

"Yes, you can get out too," Sienna laughed, opening the back door.

The dog bounded out, immediately racing across my meticulously landscaped lawn. I watched in mild horror as she lifted her leg on an expensive decorative shrub.

"Sprinkles!" Sienna called. "Not the fancy plants!"

Too late. The dog trotted back, looking enormously pleased with herself. She sniffed my hand curiously, then jumped up, placing her paws on my chest and leaving muddy prints on my suit jacket.

"Down, Sprinkles!" Sienna pulled her away. "Sorry, she's friendly to a fault. We're still working on manners."

I brushed at the paw prints, oddly unbothered. "It's fine. The house could use some... life in it."

The words surprised me as much as they seemed to surprise her. She tilted her head, studying me with those expressive eyes. "That's unexpectedly philosophical of you, hockey man."

"I have hidden depths," I said dryly. "Let me get your bags."

I carried her suitcases inside while Sienna followed with Sprinkles on a leash, the dog straining to investigate every new scent. Watching Sienna step into my home—our home, at least temporarily—was surreal. She seemed so out of place in my minimalist space, with her colorful dress and vibrant energy.

"Well." She stood in the entryway, looking around uncertainly. "It's very... homely compared to the last time."

"The tour's this way." I gestured down the hallway, suddenly eager to move past this awkward moment to give her a tour for the second time.

I showed her the living room, with its wall of windows overlooking the lake, then the dining room I rarely used, the home office, the gym, and finally, the bedrooms.

"This will be your room, like I've shown before," I said, setting her suitcases down in the largest bedroom. "It has its own bathroom, but it also connects to the my room through this door." I nodded toward the door that joined the two rooms. "We can keep it locked if you prefer."

Sienna eyed the door warily. "Definitely locked."

"The closet's empty, and I've cleared space in the bathroom for your things." I showed her the spacious walk-in closet, now half-empty, and the adjoining bathroom with its dual sinks and large shower.

She ran her hand over the marble countertop. "This bathroom is pretty big."

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