Page 30 of The Hockey Contract

The strangest part? I didn't entirely hate it.

That thought was more unsettling than anything else that had happened on this bizarre day. As sleep finally claimed me, my last thought was of Sienna's face as she'd explored my kitchen—bright with genuine enthusiasm, momentarily unguarded.

Three months, I reminded myself. Just three months of pretending, and then things could go back to normal.

But as Sprinkles shifted position, pressing her warm body against my legs, I wondered if "normal" would ever feel the same again.

Chapter 11: Sienna

I woke disoriented, blinking at an unfamiliar ceiling. The bed was too soft, the room too large, the silence too complete. For a panicked moment, I couldn't remember where I was.

Then it all came rushing back. The courthouse. The vows. The kiss.

The kiss that had lingered in my mind as I'd tried to fall asleep, that had followed me into my dreams.

"It meant nothing," I whispered to the empty room. "A performance for the audience."

I glanced at the clock: 5:17 AM. Despite the early hour, habit had me sliding out of bed. I'd never slept past five since taking over the bakery.

"Sprinkles?" I called softly, noticing her absence from the foot of the bed. The connecting door to Jax's room was closed, but I had a sneaking suspicion where my traitorous dog had spent the night.

I dressed quietly in leggings and an oversized sweater, then tiptoed into the hallway. The house was silent, still wrapped in pre-dawn darkness. I made my way to the kitchen, drawn by the prospect of coffee and the comfort of doing something familiar in this strange new reality.

To my surprise, a light was already on. Jax stood at the counter in a t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair rumpled from sleep, measuring protein powder into a blender.

"You're up early," I said, hovering in the doorway.

He glanced up, seeming unsurprised by my presence. "Morning ice skate. You're up early too."

"Baker's hours." I gestured to the coffeemaker. "Mind if I make coffee?"

He stepped aside. "Help yourself."

We moved around each other cautiously, like wary animals sharing territory. I found coffee beans in a cabinet and began grinding them, the familiar sound offering small comfort.

"Your dog slept in my room," Jax said, breaking the silence.

"Sorry about that. She gets anxious in new places." I filled the coffee filter, avoiding his eyes. "I can keep my door closed tonight."

Jax shrugged. "It's fine. She stayed at the foot of the bed, didn't try to take over."

"Unlike human bed partners." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His eyebrows shot up. "Speaking from experience?"

"My last boyfriend was a bed hog." I focused intently on measuring water. "He'd somehow end up diagonal across the mattress, leaving me clinging to the edge."

"When was this?" Jax asked, his tone carefully casual.

I glanced at him, surprised by the question. "About a year ago. It didn't last long." I hesitated, then added, "What about you? When was your last relationship?"

"Define relationship."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course. The playboy hockey star."

"That's not what I meant." He frowned. "I date. It just doesn't usually develop into anything significant."

"By choice?"

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