Page 19 of The Hockey Pact

Riley winced. "I'm sorry. Dad's protective."

"Don't apologize. He's doing what fathers should do." I hesitated before adding, "My parents will be a different challenge altogether."

"How so?"

"My mother, Katherine, will be thrilled I'm settling down, but she'll scrutinize you for flaws and social compatibility with her country club friends. My father will..." I paused, searching for the right words. "Robert Matthews is a human lie detector. He played pro himself, knows the business side of hockey. If anyone's going to see through us, it's him."

"Great," Riley muttered. "So between your father and mine, we're basically transparent."

"We just need to convince them long enough to get through the wedding," I reminded her. "After that, we can limit family interactions."

My phone rang through the car's Bluetooth—Whitman's name appearing on the dashboard display. I answered, putting on my media-trained voice.

"Mr. Whitman, good evening."

"Matthews! Heard the big news. Didn't know you were seeing anyone seriously, let alone headed to the altar." Whitman's tone was notably warmer than during our last conversation.

I glanced at Riley, who looked alarmed at being overheard. "News travels fast."

"It really is a small world. My wife's cousin plays bridge with your future mother-in-law. Ellen couldn't stop talking about her daughter landing Boston's most eligible bachelor."Whitman chuckled. "Smart move, son. A chef with hockey family connections—couldn't have chosen better myself."

The calculation in his tone made my skin crawl, but I forced a laugh. "Thank you, sir."

"Training camp starts soon. We should discuss the captaincy, make it official before the season begins. Bring your fiancée to dinner next week—Gloria would love to meet her."

After promising to check our schedule, I ended the call, catching Riley's stunned expression.

"Well," she said dryly, "that was subtle."

"Welcome to hockey politics," I replied. "At least we know the plan is working."

As we approached Boston, I found myself thinking about the upcoming weeks—introducing Riley to my considerably more difficult family, the small wedding we'd need to orchestrate, and the complex dance of convincing the world our arrangement was genuine.

"Ready for phase two?" I asked as we pulled up to her restaurant, where she'd be spending her last few nights before moving into my apartment. "Meeting the Matthews family will make your dad's interrogation look like a casual chat."

"Can't wait," she replied with mock enthusiasm, then hesitated before opening her door. "Thanks for today. You were... really good with my family."

"Easy when they're good people," I said honestly. "You're lucky to have them."

A week later, we found ourselves on the private dock extending into Boston Harbor, surrounded by a small wedding party of just family and close teammates. Max stood besideme as best man, periodically whispering completely unhelpful commentary.

"Remember when I said you should consider getting married to secure the captaincy, and you called me an idiot?" he murmured as we waited for the ceremony to begin. "I feel vindicated."

"You suggested Vegas with a puck bunny," I reminded him under my breath. "This is completely different."

"Is it though?" Max waggled his eyebrows. "You're still marrying someone you barely know for the captaincy."

"We should have included a best man silence clause in the contract," I muttered.

"Speaking of which, did your lawyer include an escape clause for when her father murders you in your sleep? Mr. Caldwell is still giving you the death stare." Max nodded subtly towards Jim Caldwell, who stood near the double doors, waiting to walk Riley down the aisle.

To my right, my family was seated. My mother beamed, radiating pure approval at me finally settling down. My father watched with a slightly concerned expression, the kind that always told me he sensed something wasn't quite right beneath the surface. Beside him sat Megan, the only one who found out the truth and had agreed to keep it a secret, offering a small, encouraging smile. Whitman and his wife Gloria sat in the front row, looking like they'd already mentally prepared the press release about the captain's perfect wedding.

The music changed, and everyone turned as Riley appeared. She was stunning in a simple white dress that hugged her curves before flowing out gently at the knees. Her hair was partially up, soft tendrils framing her face. I'd expected her tolook beautiful—she always did—but the sight of her still caught me off guard.

Jim's expression was both proud and protective as he escorted her toward me. When they reached the altar, he placed Riley's hand in mine with a final warning look before taking his seat.

Riley's fingers trembled slightly in mine. We'd rehearsed this before—the appropriate amount of nervous excitement, the loving glances, the soft smiles. What I hadn't prepared for was the jolt of awareness that shot through me at this simple contact, or how right her hand felt in mine.

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