Page 40 of The Hockey Contract

"All of it." His voice was low, controlled. "Strangers in my house, moving my things, staging my life like it's a movie set. Being directed to act a certain way in my own space."

I approached cautiously, understanding his discomfort. For someone who valued privacy and control as much as Jax clearly did, this invasion must be excruciating.

"It's just for today," I said gently. "They'll be gone soon."

He turned then, his expression surprisingly vulnerable. "It's not just today, though, is it? It's three months of this—performing, being watched, having my private life become public property."

"I know." I hesitated, then admitted, "I'm struggling with it too. I'm not used to being the center of attention."

He looked surprised by my honesty. "You hide it well."

"Years of serving customers." I attempted a smile. "The show must go on, right?"

For a long moment, we just looked at each other—two strangers bound by a contract but sharing something genuine in this quiet moment of mutual understanding. Jax's mask had slipped, showing me a glimpse of the man beneath the carefully controlled exterior. I found myself wanting to know more about that man.

The moment was broken by Olivia calling from downstairs. "Jax? Sienna? We're ready for the deck shots!"

The deck photos were the most challenging yet. The photographer wanted "romantic intimacy" with the scenic lake as backdrop. We stood facing each other, Jax's arms around my waist, my hands on his chest, our faces close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin.

"Look at her like she's your whole world, Jax," the photographer directed. "Like you can't believe she's yours."

Jax tried, his expression stiff with concentration. The photographer sighed in frustration.

"It looks forced. Let's reset."

After three failed attempts, Jax's tension was palpable. I could feel him withdrawing further with each criticism, his body rigid against mine. Impulsively, I leaned closer and whispered, "Remember Marco's face when I said I'd never watched a hockey game?"

Confusion flickered across his features. "What?"

"He looked like I'd said I breathe underwater. And then Anders just nodded and said 'wise choice' and Marco nearly choked on his drink."

The memory—a small moment from yesterday's team barbeque—startled a genuine laugh from Jax. His face transformed, eyes crinkling at the corners, tension momentarily forgotten.

"Perfect!" The photographer exclaimed, capturing the moment. "That's exactly what we need. Natural, authentic joy."

The irony wasn't lost on me—our most "authentic" moment was one manufactured through deliberate distraction. But it had worked, momentarily breaking through Jax's carefully constructed walls.

By early afternoon, the photographers finally declared they had what they needed. As the crew packed up their equipment, Olivia reviewed some of the shots on a laptop, nodding with satisfaction.

"These are excellent," she said. "The kitchen ones especially—you two have surprising chemistry on camera."

I avoided looking at Jax, uncomfortable with the observation. We didn't have chemistry. We had a business arrangement. Any perceived connection was simply good acting on both our parts.

After the crew left, we stood in the suddenly quiet living room, surrounded by the aftermath of the photoshoot—moved furniture, discarded coffee cups, lingering tension.

"Well," I said, breaking the silence. "That was..."

"Excruciating," Jax finished.

"I was going to say 'intense,' but your word is better." I checked my watch. "I should get to the bakery for the afternoon shift."

"I'll drive you," Jax offered immediately.

I blinked in surprise. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. I want to." He grabbed his keys from the counter. "Besides, I've been thinking about trying those chocolate croissants again."

The drive to the bakery was surprisingly comfortable, our shared ordeal of the photoshoot having created a kind of camaraderie between us. When we arrived, Chloe's eyebrows shot up at the sight of Jax following me through the door.

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