Page 42 of The Hockey Pact

She stepped closer, reaching up to adjust my scarf against the slight chill. "You deserve to be celebrated, Caleb Matthews."

The gesture felt intimate and significant. For a moment, I considered closing the distance between us, curious about how her lips would feel against mine.

The moment stretched, charged with possibility, until I couldn't resist any longer. I leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted.

She didn't.

Our lips met softly at first, tentative and questioning. Then, as if a dam had broken, the kiss deepened. My hands found her waist, pulling her closer as her arms wrapped around my neck. It was nothing like our previous kisses—this was hungry, desperate, revealing feelings neither of us had been ready to acknowledge.

We broke apart only when sounds from a nearby couple reminded us we were in public. I cleared my throat, slightly dazed.

"Sorry," I said automatically. "I was just, uh... maintaining appearances." I gestured vaguely toward the passing couple. "For the witnesses."

Riley's smile was knowing. "Of course. Very professional of you."

"I thought so," I agreed, offering my arm again with exaggerated formality to lighten the moment. "Shall we continue homeward, Mrs. Matthews?"

"Lead on, Captain." She took my arm, still smiling.

We walked the rest of the way home discussing lighter topics, as if by mutual agreement to delay examining what had just happened. I told her a lengthy story about Max's latest failed attempt to impress Zoe, which had involved an ill-advised hockey stick serenade outsideHat Trick's kitchen doors.

"He actually sang a cheesy song while using the stick as a microphone," I explained, delighting in Riley's laughter. "Zoe just stared at him for a solid minute, then closed the blinds in his face."

"That poor man," Riley giggled. "He's hopelessly outclassed."

"Don't tell him that. He thrives on delusion."

Back at the penthouse, Riley disappeared briefly into the kitchen, returning with a small cupcake topped with a single candle.

"Make a wish," she said, holding it up.

I really looked at her, taking in the woman who had entered my life as a business arrangement and somehow become essential to my happiness. As I blew out the flame, I wished for something I had no right to want—that when our contract ended, Riley might choose to stay.

Later that night, after Riley had gone to sleep, I sat on the balcony with a glass of whiskey, replaying the day in my mind. My phone lit up with a text from Max:

Birthday celebrations - good or great? Details required. Spare nothing.

I stared at the message, unable to articulate even to my closest friend the confusing reality of falling for the woman I married for convenience.

Instead, I typed a simple reply:

Different. In the best way possible.

Chapter 15: Riley

I stepped carefully along the icy Boston sidewalk, pulling my scarf tighter against the biting December wind.Hat Trickwas still four blocks away, and the lunch rush would be starting soon. Tonight was our winter menu preview, and I still needed to finalize the plating for my new signature Arctic char dish. Every step required concentration on the treacherous pavement.

My phone chimed in my pocket. Despite knowing better, I pulled it out while walking. It was a text from Caleb:

Good morning. Crushing morning skate. Can't wait to hear how the preview goes tonight.

Such a simple message shouldn't have made me smile like an idiot, but there I was, grinning at my phone like a teenager. Which is why I missed the patch of black ice directly in my path.

One moment I was walking; the next, my feet flew out from under me. I landed hard, pain shooting through my right ankle as it twisted beneath me. The shock of cold from the pavement seeped through my coat as I lay there, momentarily stunned.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" A passing couple hurried over, the woman crouching beside me with concern etched across her face.

"I'm fine," I said automatically, already trying to push myself up. "Just clumsy."

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