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“ S o, lunch with your teammate went well?” I ask.

“It was fantastic, Claire,” Easton replies animatedly. “Lennox seems like a decent dude. We really connected, but the best part is…” He pauses for effect. “Are you ready for it?”

“Uh-huh.” I nod, twisting to face him, his excitement palpable and contagious. I can’t wait to hear what he has to say.

It’s evening, and we’re out by the infinity pool facing the mountains as we watch the sun set, which is stunning, by the way.

Sitting here, side by side in nice, comfy cushioned loungers, has become our nightly ritual. It gives us a chance to enjoy how beautiful it is up here in Cave Creek while catching each other up on how our day went.

Good God, we may not be hitched for real, but we’re already acting like an old married couple.

And you know what?

I like it.

Easton continues, his eyes meeting and holding mine. “So, get this. Lennox wants me up on the top line with him. Claire, the top fucking line!”

“Oh my God!” I exclaim, pumped for him. “No way.”

There’s true happiness in his blues as he confirms, “Yeah, the top line. Can you believe it? If it works out, this will be a dream come true for me.”

“You deserve it,” I tell him.

He does too. Easton works so hard on being the best he can be. He’s been getting in ice time down at the arena even though it’s not even required yet.

He’s also been working with a conditioning coach. The mornings he’s not on the ice, he’s out running the trails around our house and spending extra time in the team weight room.

It’s paying off. His muscles are bigger than ever, and he’s looking so lean and cut. I try not to stare too much, as I don’t want to get caught.

But God, his body!

Yeah, my fake husband is freaking hot, hot, hot.

But he’s my friend first and foremost. I’d never make a move or encourage him to make one. What we have, and how we picked right up where we left off all those years ago, is just too special to screw it up with something that may or may not work.

Besides—and I keep reminding myself of this—Easton only married me as a favor and to fulfill a long-ago promise. It’s not like he fell in love with me.

But what if he does?

Would that be so bad?

Stop , I command myself.

Sometimes I have these crazy thoughts, but they really need to come to an end. He and I are just freaking friends, and that’s never going to change.

If it was going to, it would’ve by now, right?

I sigh heavily, and Easton’s brow creases. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks. “You look sad all of a sudden.”

It’s great that he’s so observant, until it’s not.

Like now.

“No, no, it’s nothing.” I wave my hand around. “I’m not sad. I was just lost in thought, that’s all.”

He cocks his head. “Are you sure you’re okay? If you need to talk about something, Claire, you know I’m always here to listen.”

Does he have to be so sweet all of the time?

“I know,” I reply with a smile. “I appreciate that too. I promise, if there’s something ever truly bugging me, you’ll be the first to know.”

“All right,” he says. “I better be.”

The way the setting sun is illuminating his features right now, he just looks so gorgeous.

Ugh!

I need to move around or something. I clearly have a lot of pent-up energy tonight, and it’s making me think ridiculous things.

Sitting up straight in my lounger and planting my sneakered feet on either side of it, I say to Easton, “Do you want to take a walk on the trails? Kind of like we used to do at sunset?”

He nods and leans forward. “Yeah, sure, that sounds nice.”

Thank God.

We take our walk through the trails around the house, where we joke around and laugh. It really is like old times.

That’s why I need to do what I used to do all those years ago when thoughts of Easton would turn romantic—ignore them and bury them deep, deep inside.

Three weeks pass, and I’m back on track with keeping those pesky feelings for Easton from percolating up.

Well, for the most part, they’re at bay.

How weird is it, though, that you have to keep yourself from having lusty thoughts about your own husband?

What a strange life I lead.

But it’s the path I’ve chosen.

I roll my eyes at my wandering mind, as I should be concentrating on the game Madison and I are at right now.

Why am I always overthinking things?

I let out a big, frustrated huff, and Madison asks, “What’s wrong?”

Uh-oh, better come up with something fast.

I motion to the ice and say, “Er, uh… I was just thinking how that pass from Easton to Lennox should have resulted in a goal.”

“Well, it wasn’t Lennox’s fault,” Madison replies, and I notice how quick she is to defend him. “The puck just kind of skipped off his stick. It happens, you know?”

“Yes, I know,” I say. “It’s just that hockey can be so frustrating sometimes.”

“It can be,” Madison agrees before returning her attention to the ice, where there’s now a face-off in front of us.

We win it handily and play resumes.

This is the first game of the regular season for the Bears, and Easton got us front row tickets right up on the glass.

He said I had to come see him play, as he did indeed win the coveted spot on the top line.

I’m so proud of and happy for him, so I told him of course I’d come to the game. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

So here I am.

It’s been fun too.

Easton and Lennox, and their guy at right wing, Shane Thoma, have fantastic chemistry. It was evident at training camp, and it’s continuing tonight into the regular season.

Even though the last play didn’t pan out, their line has done really well, scoring two goals already—one from Easton and one from Lennox.

The Bears are playing the Colorado Avalanche, which makes this an important game since they’re division rivals.

The score is currently 2-0, which is great, especially since it’s been kind of an open contest. Luckily, our goaltender has been beyond amazing. Still, we need to shut things down in the third and tighten up defensively to hold our slim lead.

It’s the second period now, but time is winding down. In fact, there are only nine seconds left.

9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1, and the buzzer sounds.

The players leave the ice and a bunch of folks around us stand up, readying to go get food or drinks or head to the restrooms.

Madison and I decide to just remain in our seats during intermission so we can sit and talk.

Leaning back, I ask her, “Are you having a good time?”

Though she’s been a hockey fan for a while now, this is her first in-person game. I told Easton that I definitely wanted to bring her to this matchup. She needs to see hockey in person.

“Hell yeah,” my friend replies as she nods excitedly, her soft blonde curls bouncing. “I’ve always liked hockey, but being at a game is, like, next-level. You were so right.”

“It is amazing,” I agree. “So much more fun than watching it on TV.”

“Definitely,” she replies. “I hope we can come to more games.”

“Pfft,” I snort. “Are you kidding? Easton can get us tickets to any game we want to go to.”

“Hmmm, I guess that’s one of the perks of being married to a hockey player, huh?”

I shrug, and she narrows her green eyes at me. “What?” I ask.

“I was just thinking again about how I told you Easton was my client for that big house up in Cave Creek. But you never said a word that day about how you knew him. Annnd,” she goes on, “then you freaking run off and marry the dude. I’m never going to forgive you, by the way, for not having me as your maid of honor.”

“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes at her. “Since when do you get into weddings?”

Madison is not the most romantic person. She’s actually a “love ’em and leave ’em” kind of gal. She’s a bit of a heartbreaker, that one.

“I guess you’re right,” she admits. And then she waggles her brows. “But I could get into playing pretend wedding night with that hot linemate of Easton’s.”

Oooh, now I’m curious.

“Wait, who?’ I ask. “Do you mean Lennox or Shane?”

“Lennox,” she replies. “Maybe you or Easton can arrange for us to meet sometime.”

Aha, now I know why she was defending him earlier.

But I have to warn her, “He’s a real player, Madison. And I don’t mean just on the ice.”

“Eh.” She shrugs. “Who cares? I’m kind of a player myself.”

This is true.

Still, though, I’m reticent to set my friend up for potential heartbreak, especially with Easton’s linemate. It could cause all kinds of trouble if it doesn’t end well.

I’m thankful the third period is about to start. People are returning to their seats, and Madison and I have to stand several times to let them down the row. All the ups and downs put an end to any further talk of helping her hook up in any way with Lennox.

I mean, come on, I have enough on my plate with playing my role of pretend wife. I don’t need to add “for-real matchmaker” to my résumé.