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JAMIE

“Okay, you got this girl,” Jamie whispered to her reflection in the mirror and, fighting down the waves of panic within her. She was agreeing to marry someone who was practically a stranger – for all the wrong, but slightly right, reasons.

Did he save her? Yes, and she would be forever grateful. Could he bail her out of her financial messes? Again, yes. Did he have an adorable son? Yes – and she wanted snuggles galore.

Was Kenneth hotter than Hades? Whoa-my-gosh-yes . Okay, so maybe this one was a little more superficial, but looks were a thing for anyone – not just her. If he was ugly with raging ear hairs, a fur-neck-collar over his T-shirt, or had a bunch of rotted-out teeth, she would have said ‘no’ – period.

‘Husband’ meant he had certain ‘expectations’ eventually because he was a man – and most guys thought with ‘man-things.’ She wasn’t stupid. It was the way of the world, and she’d had enough guys hit on her in the past, including dating some real losers who only had one thing on their mind.

A manly thing.

Kenneth said he wanted to build a friendship, and that he wouldn’t push her into that in case things didn’t work out. That was really nice to hear, honestly. She was an optimist. Of course, she hoped things would fall into place with them – what girl wouldn’t want some incredibly brooding hot man lusting after her? After being hit with repeated doses of reality, it was hard to keep that positive attitude without it becoming tainted over time – and she knew better than to get her hopes up.

Because yeaaaah …

Kenneth was scorching hot.

The man had deep brown eyes and silky black hair that was layered and slightly choppy and, heaven help her, there was a slight curl to it making the ends flip up. When had five-o’clock shadows or chin-dimples become her thing?

That straight nose, those cheekbones, and lips… oh yeah, he was model material all right – and a daddy. Why was it that there was something so intrinsic, so swoony about seeing a man put aside his pride and play with his kid or carry them? It gave off such strong, protective feelings that just screamed to her girly-genes that were currently panting after him.

And today, she was marrying him.

As a convenience.

“Ouch,” she hesitated, pausing with her eyeliner to look at herself in the mirror. Why was she bothering with makeup when the gorgeous man was only doing this to secure a different job with better benefits? It wasn’t like he ever gave her the time of day before now. She shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t be making a big deal about this – but he had seen her at her ultimate worst, and something in her wanted to present ‘her best’ or whatever that looked like. Finishing up, she swiped on some lip gloss just as there was a knock at the front door.

“Please, no disasters today,” she whispered to the ceiling as if her guardian angel could hear her. “Yesterday was plenty.”

Opening the door to her condo, she hesitated, hearing an audible ‘ whah-whah-whaaah ’ horn in her head. Kenneth was dressed in black jeans, a white T-shirt, and a black hoodie. His son was standing beside him in jeans and wearing a Hot Wheels T-shirt, looking completely bored.

“Hi,” she began, almost questioningly and then felt a sinking feeling as it hit her that this was not a man who was about to get married. “Oh, crayon …”

“Hey…” he began warily. “Are you ready?”

“Are you?” she blurted out and then paused, composing herself. “I meant, are we getting married this morning?”

“Yeah – and I think I owe you an apology.”

“Oh?”

“My suit is at the cleaners and won’t be ready for another two days, but I don’t want to wait. I need to turn in a copy of our marriage license to get the ball rolling. There’s paperwork that is being rushed, my work VISA, and I’ve gotta set up movers for both of our places… and yeah. I need a bit of time on my hands, so this is me…” he said openly, looking at her with almost a ‘Take it or Leave it’ expression on his face - but his eyes?

They told another story.

Kenneth was putting on a brave front. The eyes weren’t called the ‘Window to the Soul’ for nothing. He looked worried, scared, and nervous, and she understood that so much.

“We both can’t be scared,” she whispered softly, looking at him. “Let’s go get the paperwork done, grab lunch because we both like to eat, and maybe get a cupcake to celebrate or something with Zachary. Remember, it’s all about getting to know each other and making memories that are positive for him to look back on someday.”

And Kenneth’s breath escaped him with a nervous laugh as he ran his fingers through his hair, giving her a slight smile. She stepped out of the condo, shutting the door behind her, almost like she was signifying that she was closing off her past to make this leap and held out her hand.

Waiting.

He stared at her hand, and she realized that the man had so many ghosts haunting him if he couldn’t do something as simple as holding hands.

“Kenneth,” she said softly, feeling slightly alarmed because this was something so basic no matter what status they held. “I’m going to want to hold hands, so if this is not something we can manage before we get married… maybe we should delay things and talk… or back out of this completely.”

He looked completely flummoxed, and then put his hand in hers.

“I’ve never had anyone want to hold my hand – except Zachary.”

“Well, that’s all behind you… and your new wife is weird like that. She’s absolutely going to want to hold hands - a lot - and become friends,” Jamie said bravely, her heart aching for this poor guy before her. “New team, new job, new city, new wife, and new habits to get used to. Are you up to the challenge, mister?”

“You aren’t nervous?”

“Oh, I completely freaking out on the inside,” she admitted – and they both laughed nervously. “I’m surprised you can’t hear the shrieks inside of me. Hello? That’s why I want to hold someone’s hand, so I don’t feel alone.”

“I’ll hold your hand,” Zachary volunteered suddenly, causing both of them to look at him as he stood there, watching – and Jamie knelt.

“I’m counting on it, buddy. I bet you are the best-hand-holder-ever in the universe. Aren’t you?”

And he nodded, shoving that finger into the back of his mouth to chew on it almost like a toddler. It must be a nervous habit, she thought quietly and playfully tugged on his hand, but the finger remained as she stood up… and heard Kenneth’s hushed whisper.

“That started after the divorce,” he admitted, looking at her.

“The chewing? Is it a nervous habit?”

“I think so.”

“I click ink pens like a mad fiend,” she shrugged. “We all have our quirks.”

They began walking toward the parking lot, silently, the three of them when he suddenly spoke, opening her door. “What’s your last name?”

“Bellavance – and yours? If you told me, I don’t remember.”

“Salas.”

“Why does that sound familiar?”

“I play hockey…”

“Really? I follow hockey,” she admitted and looked at him curiously, trying to think where she’d seen him as he walked around the sedate-looking car that didn’t seem to match his personality. She pictured him more as a black G-Wagon or a sleek sports car profile, not a tan-colored Lexus. That was so average. There must be at least fifty within a ten-mile radius.

Jamie had been teasing, but when he turned toward her, eyes sharpening with interest, she felt a little thrill of victory. She was trying to picture him, wondering if she’d seen him on the ice, but helmets and padding covered a lot sometimes.

“Really?” he asked, perking up. “You like hockey?”

“My daddy plays hockey!” Zachary chimed in, and she smiled at him easily in his booster seat before seeing Kenneth’s gaze. The way his brows lifted, his whole posture shifting toward her, sent a ripple of satisfaction through her.

He cared what she thought.

“Oh yeah, Tyler Seguin is my man-crush…” Jamie admitted, letting out a dramatic sigh for effect – and taunted him. She waited until Kenneth’s face twisted in shock before adding, “Do you know him? Can you get me his autograph?”

The reaction was instant.

“On the ice – and NO .” The last word was practically a shout, his voice like a thunderclap inside the car. She could almost feel the force of it against her skin.

Jamie bit her lip, fighting the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The way his grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles flexing, made it clear— clearly, Kenneth was not amused.

“I’m the guy you are going to follow now, and we don’t discuss your previous man-crushes.” His voice had dropped an octave, all rumbling authority and sharp edges.

Jamie leaned back, arching a brow. “Possessive much?”

He didn’t hesitate. “My ex cheated on me with a teammate, so yeah. I’m really possessive.” The words carried a raw honesty that caught her off guard. His jaw tightened, and his fingers drummed once against the wheel before gripping it again. “If you are my wife, you follow me . You can’t be eyeballing the other team hoping to get a sweaty jersey or an autograph. You’ll have my jersey to wear—and only mine. I don’t share, and if we play his team, I’m gonna check him into the boards just because you are watching.”

He started the car, but Jamie barely noticed.

Macho. Bossy. Aggressive. Pushy.

And soooo hot.

Something about the way he said it, all growly and sure of himself, made her stomach flip. This wasn’t just about jealousy—this was about him claiming her in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. He wanted her to wear his name and his number. To stand in the crowd and cheer for him , not some other guy.

It was primal.

It was absurd.

And it was working for her in ways she didn’t want to analyze too closely.

She turned her head, watching him through her lashes. “Keep talking to me like that, and I’ll start a fan club for you,” she purred, her voice coming out far more breathless than she intended.

Kenneth’s head snapped toward her, eyes widening as if the words had struck him just as hard as they’d hit her. For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick and charged. She hadn’t meant it like that, not like some hockey-obsessed puck-bunny, but the way his gaze darkened said he’d definitely taken it like that.

Then, like a dam breaking, laughter burst out of both of them. It was awkward, unplanned, a little ridiculous—but also strangely perfect. The kind of laugh that made her stomach ache and her eyes water, that felt like shaking off tension neither of them had realized was there.

They quieted.

Then met eyes.

And started laughing again.

“Okay, that was weird, wasn’t it?” Kenneth admitted under his breath, still half-chuckling as he checked the rearview mirror and craned his neck. “You okay back there, Zach-Attack?”

“Two fumbs-up, Daddy.”

Kenneth grinned, something soft flickering over his features before he turned back, sliding a glance toward Jamie before shifting the car into drive.

Jamie couldn’t stop watching him.

Yeah, this guy was like an onion. And she was determined to peel back every single layer. If they were going into this fake marriage as strangers, she’d be darned if they stayed that way.

No—she was jumping in, both feet.

* * *

T wo hours later, the tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. Jamie shifted in her seat, exhaling slowly through her nose as she glanced around the packed courtroom.

Apparently, today was the day to get married in Detroit. Couples surrounded them—some giddy, others nervous, all of them buzzing with excitement. But in the seat next to her, Zachary was fidgeting, hunched over her phone as he launched a red bird at a cluster of green pigs. He sat between her and Kenneth, his little fingers drumming impatiently on the screen.

Kenneth, on the other hand, looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. Preferably somewhere involving boiling oil, Jamie thought wryly. He hadn’t said a word in at least thirty minutes, but his body language screamed louder than any words ever could. His knee bounced, his foot tapped, his fingers drummed on his thigh in an erratic rhythm. And then there was the watch—dear heavens, the watch. He checked it again, his brows drawing lower with each passing second.

People were staring.

Of course, they were.

A famous hockey player, towering over most men in the room, impossibly good-looking, and wearing the expression of a man who had just stepped in something foul—yeah, people were bound to notice. Their eyes darted to him, then away, as if gauging whether it was really him, the Kenneth Salas, sitting here looking like he was being dragged to the gallows.

The contrast between them and the other couples waiting their turn was almost laughable. Everyone else had that soft, dewy-eyed glow, fingers laced together, practically floating in anticipation. Meanwhile, Kenneth sat there radiating something that fell somewhere between boredom, irritation, and mild hostility.

Love-struck fiancé?

Not even close.

The man was treating this like a business transaction, something to cross off a to-do list. A duty. A task to be completed. And that much was obvious to everyone in the room. His ‘game face’ was not just absent—it was in the negatives.

Jamie swallowed down the flicker of hurt that tried to rise in her chest. It took a lot to shake her, and she refused to let his impatience, his restless shifting, or his ever-deepening scowl affect her. She’d built armor over the years—thick, resilient. And if Kenneth thought he could crack it with a few sighs, grumbles, and some watch-checking?

Well, he didn’t know her very well at all.

“Salas and Bellavance party?”

The words had barely left the magistrate’s mouth before Kenneth shot out of his seat like he’d been launched from a catapult. The entire bench wobbled under the force of his movement, and Jamie instinctively reached out, steadying a wide-eyed Zachary as her phone slipped from his small hands and landed in his lap.

Kenneth wasn’t fazed. He grabbed his son’s hand in one firm motion, then reached for Jamie’s, pulling them both forward with the urgency of a man trying to catch the last plane out of a war zone. He was dragging them bodily, and Zachary couldn’t get his feet under him.

Every maternal instinct flared to life.

“Hang on…” she hissed, yanking her wrist free and planting her feet. The sudden jolt made Zachary stumble, and she quickly gathered his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles to reassure him. “We’ll meet you up front,” she said pointedly, waving Kenneth off.

If he wanted to bulldoze his way to the front like some overzealous contestant on a game show, fine. But she wasn’t about to be dragged along like a trout on a fishing line.

Kenneth blinked, processing her words a second too late. “Oh,” he muttered, slowing down just enough to look sheepish before suddenly hollering, “WE’RE COMING!”

The room fell into an abrupt hush.

Dozens of heads swiveled in their direction, eyes locking onto them like they were the main event at a circus. Jamie felt the weight of all that attention settle on her shoulders, and for a beat, all she could hear was the echo of Kenneth’s booming voice bouncing off the walls.

Her lips twitched into a quick, disarming smile. “My fiancé is excited,” she announced breezily to the amused onlookers. Then, glancing down at the little boy beside her, she squeezed his hand. “C’mon, Zachary. Let’s follow Daddy.”

As they made their way toward the front, Jamie found herself stealing glances at the boy holding her hand. The more time she spent with him, the more she realized what a sweet little soul he was. Gentle. Observant. Cuddly in a way that made her heart ache a little. It made her wonder—was that from his mother’s side or Kenneth’s?

Her gaze flicked up to the man waiting for them at the front. Kenneth stood stiffly, his posture taut, his expression carved from granite. His dark eyes weren’t warm or tender; they were sharp, assessing, bracing for impact.

Like he was going to war, and not getting married. Jamie swallowed hard, another thought creeping in. Just how bad had his first marriage been?

The magistrate began speaking, his tone practiced, almost robotic, as he recited the ceremony with the enthusiasm of a man who’d done this a thousand times before. Then he turned to Kenneth.

“Do you, Kenneth Dahl Salas…”

Jamie barely stifled a snort.

His middle name was Doll?

Like seriously, he was Ken… doll?

Her gaze darted to the magistrate and then to Kenneth – and the damage was done. Heat prickled at the back of her neck, and when she met his eyes, the twin beams of pure displeasure were locked directly on her.

Kenneth’s jaw ticked.

His voice was low, terse, ignoring the magistrate as he spoke to her. “Dahl. D-a-h-l. It’s my mother’s maiden name. I don’t tell people my middle name for a reason because of your reaction – and my ex-wife’s.”

Jamie sucked in a breath.

Oh, this would not do.

“Aww, Snack Cake ,” she cooed, tilting her head, her voice dripping with mischief. “Did the kids pick on you when you were little?”

Kenneth’s scowl deepened. His fingers curled into fists at his sides.

“Is that why you never told me?” she continued, eyes sparkling.

“Uh…” Kenneth sputtered, momentarily thrown off-balance.

Jamie turned, feigning a conspiratorial whisper to the women seated in the front row. “ Snack cake, am I right ? Guess who’s taking a big ol’ bite? Me! I’m a lucky woman…”

A few muffled chuckles rippled through the crowd, and Jamie could feel the tension in Kenneth’s shoulders coil even tighter before finally— finally —he exhaled. The muscles in his jaw relaxed by a fraction.

She grinned, victorious. There. That was better. Nobody needed to document him losing his cool over something as trivial as a name, especially not if this moment ended up on TikTok.

“Snack cake,” she teased, voice warm, “just say ‘I do’ so we can get to me.”

Kenneth looked at her like she’d just walked in from another planet. “…I do.”

The magistrate hesitated, looking momentarily dazed before clearing his throat. “Okaaaay…”

He turned to her. “Do you, Jamie Michelle Bellavance, take Kenneth for your husband, to have and to hold, for richer?—”

“You can stop there,” Jamie interrupted smoothly.

The magistrate blinked.

Kenneth did, too.

Jamie turned, locking eyes with her soon-to-be husband, her voice steady. “I do. I really, really do. And we’re not doing the whole ‘poor’ thing. I refuse to be poor. Tried it – and I didn’t care for it a bit. Do not recommend – at all.”

A murmur of laughter rippled through the audience.

Jamie’s grin widened. “I am taking both Kenneth and my little Zach-Attack as my own. They’ll get used to me someday,” she declared cheerfully before effortlessly scooping Zachary up onto her hip like he weighed nothing.

The little boy giggled, wrapping his arms around her neck, clinging to her like a tiny koala. Instinctively, she dropped a kiss on his temple as he smiled, laying a cheek on her shoulder. He was a sweet thing, and she was lucky to be his stepmother. It could have been so much worse.

Kenneth’s eyes darkened again—not with anger this time but with something more unreadable.

She met his stare, unwavering.

Get used to it, Salas.

The magistrate, seeming eager to wrap things up, cleared his throat. “Uh, well, by the power granted to me from the state of Michigan, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

His gaze flicked to Kenneth. “You may kiss your bride, Mr. Salas.”

Kenneth hesitated.

Jamie didn’t.

I might have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night, she thought immediately, taking advantage of the moment – especially since her new husband was so disgruntled about the whole marriage thing. If this wasn’t a requirement of his contract, she knew he would never have done something as wild as marrying her, a stranger. She was no fool. Her husband was handsome, and if they weren’t going to be real spouses, she was at least getting one kiss from the moody man.

She stepped in, still holding Zachary, and curled her fingers into the fabric of Kenneth’s shirt, tugging him forward until their lips barely brushed—a fleeting, delicate contact.

It was enough.

Enough to cement the deal. Enough to get him to move. Enough to let him know that she wasn’t afraid of him, or this, or what they were stepping into together.

His posture was still rigid, his muscles still wound tight—but there was something else in his expression now. A flicker of amusement, maybe. Or confusion. Or the first crack in whatever wall he’d built around himself.

Jamie leaned in just a fraction, whispering against his lips.

“Done. Get the papers, and let’s get outta here. I’m starving.”

For a heartbeat, Kenneth just stared at her. Then, to her absolute delight, a low, disbelieving chuckle escaped him.

It wasn’t much. Just a breath of laughter. But it was real.

He reached out, ruffling Zachary’s hair before turning to sign the paperwork and settle things with the magistrate. Jamie set down Zachary and took his hand, sticking out her tongue at him playfully as he did the same.

And just like that, they walked out of the courtroom—married.

Jamie exhaled, stretching her arms overhead. “ Phew .” She shot Kenneth a playful look. “It was getting stuffy and loud in there.”

Kenneth shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he held the door open for her.

Jamie just grinned, stepping outside.

This was going to be fun .

* * *

A n hour later, they were seated in a cozy booth tucked away in the back of the restaurant Kenneth had chosen. The low hum of conversation and the clinking of silverware against plates filled the air, but Jamie was hyper-aware of the dynamic at their table.

The waiter had just set down their meals, and Zachary, nestled between them like a tiny human barricade, was already preoccupied with the Hot Wheels he had smuggled in from the car. The little car zipped along every available surface—the table, the seat, her leg, Kenneth’s thigh—never ceasing its endless race as the boy juggled bites of food between vrooms and screeches.

Kenneth took a deliberate bite of his burger, chewing thoughtfully before muttering under his breath, "Snack cake?" His voice carried the same gruffness as before, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes. Curiosity. Amusement, maybe. Jamie recognized it and felt it settle in her chest like warmth spreading outward.

She shrugged, popping a fry into her mouth and nodding. “I was reading the room, and you had people looking at you,” she explained, reaching for another fry. “If this job you’re going to is so worried about image, then having someone catch you on TikTok or Snapchat faking a marriage with a perfect stranger wouldn’t look good… now, would it?”

Kenneth paused, watching her carefully.

“People were checking you out,” she continued, holding his gaze. “You’re recognizable to fans, and it’s going to be everywhere that the great hockey player Kenneth Salas got married… they just won’t know the reasons behind it.”

He exhaled through his nose, a subtle sign of reluctant agreement. “Nope,” he hesitated before looking at her again. “I’m telling my coach tomorrow. I was going to tell him today, but instead, I called in sick… so I’m sure they know something’s up.”

“I’m sure,” she murmured with a knowing smile.

He studied her for a long moment, then inclined his head slightly. “Thank you for watching out for me, for protecting my image.”

Jamie smirked, leaning in just a little. “It’s my job as your wife,” she teased, but the words hung between them longer than she intended. Her grin faded. “You know I’m going to ask questions, cross lines that shouldn’t be crossed, all in an effort to know where I stand.”

Kenneth didn’t flinch. “I told you to make a list of questions.”

“And I did.”

“Okay—shoot.”

Jamie exhaled slowly, tilting her head. “What’s wrong with Dahl or Ken Doll…?”

His jaw tightened slightly. “My ex-wife called me that as her pet name to mock me—and yes, I was picked on as a child.”

She made a mental note of that but didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she softened her voice. “Can you tell me about one of your happiest moments?”

Something in Kenneth’s face shifted, the hard lines of his expression melting into something almost unguarded. Jamie marveled at the transformation. He might play the grump, pretend to be some mean hotshot player, but this man folded like a deck of cards when it came to his son.

Buddy, I found your Achilles’ heel.

“The moment he was born,” Kenneth admitted, setting down his burger and reaching out to ruffle Zachary’s hair. The little boy looked up, his big, adoring eyes locking onto his father like he was the sun, the moon, and every star in between.

“The moment I held him, I knew things would be different,” Kenneth continued, his voice thick with emotion. “And I was so glad for it. He’s my joy every morning, my happiness every evening, and my everything in between.”

There was such pride in his voice, such raw love, that Jamie felt like an intruder on something deeply personal. It was staggering. This man would do anything for his son—and today, he had proven it.

“And your worst moment?” she asked gently, knowing she was prodding at a wound not yet healed.

Kenneth inhaled slowly, his fingers still resting lightly against Zachary’s head. “When I had to tell him about my ex choosing someone else,” he whispered, his voice low, filled with quiet pain. He turned to look at Jamie, something vulnerable was in his gaze. “Don’t press for more right now… I’ll answer, but later.”

“I understand,” she said softly, her eyes flicking to the little boy beside them. She shifted gears, directing her attention to Zachary. “Zachary, what’s your best moment ever?”

“Today!” he declared, his little hands clapping together excitedly before he grinned up at her. “I got a new Mommy who loves to play cars.”

Jamie’s breath caught.

Oh.

“Eh, I really do…” she started warily, sneaking a glance at Kenneth, whose lips were twitching with silent laughter. “But I gotta warn you—I like trucks, not cars.”

Zachary gasped, his eyes flicking to his father who just shrugged innocently and then went back to her in astonishment. “Trucks?”

“Big ol’ monster trucks that roll right over little bitty cars,” she growled playfully, wiggling her fingers toward him on the table. He squealed in delight, dodging her ‘monster hands’ with giggles. “Why be some little cool-looking car when you can be the ultimate monster truck ? Go anywhere, do anything.”

Zachary turned to Kenneth with wide eyes. “Daddy, can I get a new Hot Wheels?”

“A monster truck?” Kenneth lifted an eyebrow, amused.

“Yes.”

Before Kenneth could answer, Jamie smirked. “You can have one of mine.”

Both of them turned to her in surprise.

“I used to collect them when I worked at a Dodge dealership for a little while,” she explained. “I’ve got several Hot Wheels still in the packaging—and they can be yours, Zachary.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” she smiled warmly. “What other mom is lucky enough to be able to play monster trucks with her new stepson?”

Zachary’s eyes practically sparkled. “This is great…”

Jamie laughed, reaching for another fry. “Maybe in a few months when things get settled, we can get a little sandbox. Run our trucks through the sand, make a river for them to splash through…”

“Coooool…” Zachary breathed in wonder.

Kenneth chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at Jamie, something almost unreadable in his gaze. It was gratitude, yes—but something else lingered there, something softer, deeper.

“Thank you,” he whispered across the table.

Jamie met his gaze and nodded. No other words were needed.

“We’ll figure this out one step at a time,” she murmured. “You take care of me, and I’ll take care of you both. Best deal ever.”

“Best deal ever,” Kenneth echoed, but there was a note of something unspoken in his voice, something Jamie couldn’t quite place.

Not yet, anyway.