Page 43 of The Hockey Contract

"Oh." She bit her lip. "That was fast."

"Olivia works quickly when it comes to PR."

By the time we arrived home, both our phones were buzzing constantly with notifications. Leo had texted that the Perfect Home Furnishings executives were "thrilled" with the images and wanted to schedule a meeting to talk about the endorsement contract. The plan was working perfectly.

So why did the success feel so hollow?

I stood in the kitchen, staring at the congratulatory text from Leo, trying to recapture the satisfaction I'd imagined I'd feel when this plan came together. Instead, I felt strangely unsettled.

"Jax?" Sienna's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Everything okay?"

I looked up to find her watching me with concern. She'd changed into comfortable clothes—leggings and an oversized sweatshirt—and had pulled her hair into a messy bun. Even in this casual state, something about her presence made the house feel more like a home than it ever had before.

"Fine," I replied automatically. "Just tired. It's been a long day."

She studied me for a moment, clearly not believing me, but didn't press the issue. "I'm going to make some dinner. Nothing fancy, just pasta. Would you like some?"

"Sure. Thanks." I retreated to my home office, needing space to sort through my conflicted feelings.

The endorsement was happening. The fake marriage was working exactly as planned. In three months, I'd have the contract secured, Sienna would have her bakery debt paid off, and we'd go our separate ways. Everything according to plan.

I stared at the wedding ring on my finger—a simple gold band that meant nothing yet somehow felt heavier each day. This was business, I reminded myself. Not real life.

But watching Sienna at the bakery today, in her element, confidently creating and connecting with customers, I'd glimpsed something genuine that made our manufactured relationship feel hollow by comparison. She'd built something real with her bakery—a business based on passion and family tradition rather than calculated image management.

My phone rang, Leo's name lighting up the screen.

"The photos are gold," he said without preamble when I answered. "The kitchen ones especially. Perfect Home Furnishings is ecstatic—exactly the family-man image they wanted."

"Great," I replied flatly.

Leo paused. "You don't sound thrilled. This is working, Jax. The plan is perfect."

"I know. It's just been a long day." I pinched the bridge of my nose, fighting off a headache. "What's next?"

"Meeting with the executives next Tuesday. They want to meet Sienna too, of course. Everything's progressing according to the plan."

"Good." I couldn't muster more enthusiasm.

"Is everything okay with you two?" Leo asked, his tone shifting to concern. "You're not... having issues, are you?"

"No issues. Everything's fine."

"You sure? Because Olivia mentioned you seemed tense during the photoshoot."

"I hate photoshoots. You know that."

"Right." He sounded unconvinced. "Well, just keep it together for a few more weeks. The hard part's almost over."

After hanging up, I stared at the wall of hockey memorabilia in my office—trophies, framed jerseys, game pucks—physical reminders of what had always been my sole focus, until now.

Dinner was quiet, both of us tired from the long day. Sienna talked about the bakery's increased business since our marriage had made the local news, while I nodded and offered minimal responses, still distracted by my unsettled thoughts.

After she went to bed, I tried to sleep but found myself staring at the ceiling, mind racing. Around midnight, I gave up and headed to the kitchen for water. To my surprise, lights were already on, and the scent of vanilla and butter filled the air.

Sienna stood at the counter in pajama shorts and a tank top, measuring ingredients with focused precision. A dusting of flour marked her cheek, and loose strands of hair fell around her face as she worked.

"Couldn't sleep either?" I asked, startling her.

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