Page 8 of The Hockey Contract

"Surprise me." His eyes met mine briefly. "Everything smells good."

I carefully selected an assortment, hyperaware of his gaze following my movements. The other customers were still watching, phones raised for surreptitious photos.

"That'll be thirty-six dollars," I said, passing him the boxed pastries.

He handed me two twenties. "Keep the change." His voice was quieter than I expected, almost hesitant.

"Thank you." I placed the pastries in a bag with our logo. "Enjoy."

I expected him to leave immediately, but he lingered, waiting until the last customer had exited before speaking again. Was he here to talk about that vague "arrangement" Jax's agent, Leo, had mentioned before?

"Could we talk? Privately?" he asked suddenly, his eyes darting to the back of the bakery.

I nodded. "My office is back there. We can talk for a few minutes until my assistant returns."

I led him through the kitchen to the small room I grandly called my office. It was really just a converted storage closet with a desk wedged inside. Stacks of invoices and order forms covered every surface.

"Sorry about the mess," I said automatically, hastily clearing a chair for him.

Jax remained standing, looking too large for the tiny space. "I assume Leo spoke with you," he began without preamble.

"Your agent? Yes, he came by yesterday." I crossed my arms. "He mentioned something about an arrangement that could benefit us both, but he was frustratingly vague on the details."

Jax sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "That's Leo. Always jumping ahead." He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "I have a situation. A professional opportunity that requires a certain image. An image I currently don't have."

"Okay," I dragged out the word, unsure where this was going.

"Perfect Home Furnishings wants a family-oriented spokesman for their rebrand. It would be the biggest endorsement deal of my career. But they're concerned about my public image. The 'Ice Man' thing doesn't exactly scream 'cozy home life.'"

"And this concerns me how, exactly?"

He met my eyes directly. "They saw the video of us. Our coffee collision. And surprisingly, they liked it. They thought it showed a more 'human' side of me."

I raised my eyebrows. "You mean the video where we're arguing on a public sidewalk?"

"Apparently, it was refreshingly authentic." His mouth twisted wryly. "The point is, they're interested in seeing me with someone real. Not a model or socialite. Someone who makes me seem more approachable."

A suspicion was forming in my mind. "What exactly are you asking me, Jax?"

He inhaled deeply. "I'm proposing a temporary marriage of convenience. Three months of pretending to be my wife. In exchange, I'll pay off your bakery debt."

I stared at him for a long moment before bursting into laughter. "You're joking. This is a joke, right?"

His expression remained serious. "I'm completely serious. You need $150,000 to save your bakery. I need a wife to secure this endorsement deal. It's a business arrangement that benefits us both."

My laughter died as I realized he wasn't kidding. "You want me to marry you? A man I've met exactly twice, both times ending in argument?"

"It would be temporary," he clarified. "A legal marriage for three months, after which we divorce amicably. Our meeting has already gone viral. People would believe a whirlwind romance. You'd live at my house to maintain appearances, accompany me to certain events, and play the role of devoted wife in public."

"This is insane," I said, shaking my head. "Completely, utterly insane."

"Is it?" Jax countered. "More insane than losing your grandmother's bakery? More insane than giving up your family legacy when there's a solution right in front of you?"

His words hit their mark. I fell silent, my mind racing through possibilities. Could I actually consider this?

"How do you know about my financial situation?" I asked suddenly, narrowing my eyes. "About the foreclosure?"

"Leo did some research," Jax admitted.

---