Page 50 of The Hockey Pact

"No, that's—" He cleared his throat, a hint of awkwardness in his movements as he nudged a smaller, velvetbox towards me. "That's actually for you. No occasion, just... I saw it and thought of you."

My heart gave a startled jump. Inside, nestled on black satin, a delicate diamond pendant caught the light, sparkling with quiet elegance. This was... significant. "Caleb," I began, my voice a little thin. "I... I can't accept this. This is too much. Our arrangement—"

He cut me off gently, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It's just a necklace, Riley. I genuinely thought you'd like it. Consider it... a gesture of appreciation." He held my gaze, his eyes warm and steady, conveying a sincerity that belied the gift's potential implications.

The diamond glinted, undeniably beautiful. And undeniably expensive for a relationship that was, on paper, purely transactional. But his sincerity chipped away at my resolve.

"Even so, It's incredibly thoughtful. And I love it," I murmured, standing on tiptoe to press a quick, soft kiss to his cheek.

His smile was warm as he squeezed my hand. "I'll see you at home."

Home. Such a simple word, yet so complicated between us. Because the truth was, the penthouse had begun to feel like home in a way I'd never anticipated—not for its sprawling luxury or the glittering city view, but for the quiet comfort and unexpected connection I found sharing it with him.

After the lunch rush, as I cleaned up, I found a small, familiar earring box tucked beneath the table—Megan's, undoubtedly. One of the servers must have dislodged it. I slipped it safely into my bag, planning to return it when I got 'home.'

The afternoon and dinner service passed in a blur of activity.Hat Trickwas busier than ever, the dining room consistently full from opening to closing. By the time I left, snowflakes were falling more heavily, transforming Boston into a winter wonderland.

When I entered the penthouse, the sound of music led me to the kitchen. I paused in the doorway, struck by the unexpected sight before me.

Caleb stood barefoot at the stove, wearing worn sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, stirring something in a pan. He moved with surprising confidence, periodically tasting his creation and adjusting seasonings. He hadn't noticed me yet, and I took a moment to simply observe him.

When he finally turned and saw me, his pleased smile sent warmth cascading through me. "Hey, your timing is perfect. Come taste this."

I approached, watching as he dipped a spoon into what appeared to be some kind of sauce. "What are you making?"

"I'm trying to recreate that sauce from the Thai place last week," he explained, offering me the spoon. "The one you said had lemongrass and something else I couldn't identify."

I accepted the sample, surprised by the complexity of flavors. "Galangal," I supplied. "It's like ginger but more citrusy." I tasted again, impressed. "This is really good."

"Really?" His expression brightened. "I've been experimenting for an hour."

"It's almost perfect," I said, reaching past him for the reduced-sodium soy sauce. My arm brushed his as I added a few drops to the pan. "Try it now."

He tasted again, eyes widening. "That's it! That's exactly what it needed." He looked at me with such open admiration that I felt my cheeks warm. "How do you do that? One ingredient and it's transformed."

"Years of practice," I said, oddly pleased by his enthusiasm. "And a good palate, which you clearly have too."

We moved around the kitchen with practiced ease as he finished the stir-fry he'd prepared. I automatically retrieved plates while he turned off the burner, our movements synchronized in a domestic dance that felt natural.

As we sat at the kitchen island to eat, I remembered the earring box. "Oh, you left something at the restaurant today." I produced the velvet box from my bag. "It fell under the table."

"Thanks." He looked relieved as he pocketed it. "That would have been a disaster to lose."

A comfortable silence fell as we ate, broken only by my occasional compliments on his cooking. Finally, I broached the subject we'd left unfinished earlier.

"About Christmas," I began, setting down my fork. "I'd like to go to Minnesota with you. If the invitation includes me, that is."

His expression brightened immediately. "Of course it does. My mom's been asking what you'd like to eat, actually." He hesitated. "What about your family? Should we try to visit them too?"

I shook my head. "My parents are joining Danny at a tournament in Quebec. It's a rare opportunity for them to see him play at that level, and they understand I can't close the restaurant for that long." It wasn't the whole truth—I also hadn'twanted to navigate complex explanations of my marriage during the holidays with my perceptive parents.

"Are you sure? We could probably arrange something if you wanted to see them."

His thoughtfulness touched me. "I'm sure. We'll do a video call on Christmas morning. It's our tradition when we can't be together."

Caleb nodded, but I could see concern lingering in his eyes. "You won't feel bad about missing them?"

"I'll miss them," I admitted. "But I'm looking forward to experiencing a Matthews family Christmas." I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Your mom already warned me about your dad's eggnog. Apparently, it could strip paint."

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