Page 7

I arrived at the bakery before dawn, as always, but today was different. Today I was getting a marriage license with a man I'd met less than two weeks ago—a man who was essentially a stranger despite our unusual arrangement.

The morning sun hadn't yet risen as I unlocked the door, turned on the lights, and began my familiar routine. But my mind was far from the dough I was kneading, the ovens I was preheating. Instead, I kept returning to the contracts I'd reviewed with my lawyer the previous day, the surreal reality of what I was about to do.

When Chloe arrived at seven, carrying her usual two coffee cups, I knew I couldn't put off telling her any longer.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," she commented, handing me my cup. "What's going on?"

I took a deep breath. "I need to tell you something, and you have to promise not to freak out."

Chloe's eyes widened. "Okay, now I'm genuinely concerned. Are you dying? Are you pregnant? Are you moving to Fiji to become a coconut farmer?"

Despite my nerves, I laughed. "None of the above. But it is life-changing." I hesitated, then blurted it out, "I'm marrying Jax."

Chloe's coffee cup froze halfway to her mouth. "I'm sorry, you're what ?"

"Marrying Jax, the hockey player. The one I spilled coffee on."

"I know who he is," Chloe spluttered. "What I don't understand is how you went from publicly arguing with him to marrying him in less than two weeks. Have you lost your mind?"

I guided her to the small table in the corner of the kitchen and explained the entire arrangement—the foreclosure, Jax's endorsement needs, the mutually beneficial solution.

Chloe listened in stunned silence, her expression shifting from disbelief to concern to something approaching understanding.

"So let me get this straight," she finally said. "You're entering into a legal marriage with Jax Harrison. You'll live in his house, pretend to be madly in love in public, and in three months, you'll divorce. And in exchange, he pays off the bakery debt."

"That's about it," I confirmed. "I know it sounds insane—"

"Beyond insane," Chloe interrupted. "It's like... cosmic-level insanity. But..." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I also understand why you're considering it. The bakery means everything to you."

"It does," I said softly. "And I've tried everything else, Chloe. Every loan application, every grant, every potential investor. This is my last option before losing Grandma Rose's legacy forever."

Chloe reached across the table to squeeze my hand. "I get it. I really do. But are you sure you can handle living with him? Being around him every day? Pretending to be in love with him?" A sly smile crept across her face. "Though I imagine that last part won't be too difficult, given that he looks like he was chiseled from marble by horny Greek goddesses."

I felt my cheeks warm. "It's not like that. This is strictly business."

"Uh-huh," Chloe said skeptically. "And there's absolutely no part of you that finds Mr. Hockey Hotshot attractive?"

"That's not relevant," I insisted, though flashes of our text conversation from the previous night—the unexpectedly playful banter, the pretend terms of endearment—flickered through my mind. "We have a clear agreement with defined boundaries. Three months, then we go our separate ways."

Chloe was about to respond when the bell above the front door jingled.

"We open in fifteen minutes!" I called out.

"It's not a customer," a familiar male voice replied. "It's your future husband's agent."

Leo strolled into the kitchen, looking far too cheerful for the early hour. "Good morning, ladies. Ready for your big day, Sienna?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I muttered, wiping my hands on my apron.

I noticed Chloe had gone oddly still, her usual animated expression replaced by something tense and guarded. "Leo," she said flatly. "What an unpleasant surprise."

Leo's smile tightened. "Chloe. Still playing with flour, I see. How quaint."

I looked between them, confused by the sudden hostility. "You two know each other?"

"Unfortunately," they said in unison, then glared at each other.

"We went to same Business School," Chloe elaborated reluctantly. "We were classmates."

"Rivals," Leo corrected. "Chloe here was determined to beat me for top of the class."

"And I did," Chloe said sweetly. "Right before you dropped out to chase hockey players for a living."

"Became a sports agent," Leo corrected, his smile razor-sharp. "And I seem to recall you were heading for a glittering career in corporate finance. How's that working out for you?"

"I found my passion elsewhere," Chloe replied coolly. "Some of us prioritize happiness over status."

The tension between them was palpable, crackling like static electricity. But beneath the hostility, I detected something else—an undercurrent of unresolved attraction, evident in the way their eyes lingered on each other a beat too long, the slight flush on Chloe's cheeks, the tightness in Leo's jaw.

I bit back a laugh, fascinated by this unexpected development. There was clearly a story here—one that neither seemed eager to share.

"As riveting as this reunion is," I interrupted, "I need to change before we go to the courthouse. Chloe, you’ll close up and meet us there?"

"Sure," she agreed, still glaring at Leo.

In the bakery's small bathroom, I changed from my flour-dusted work clothes into a simple blue dress I'd brought with me. As I smoothed my hair and applied a touch of makeup, the reality of what I was doing finally sank in. I was about to get a marriage license with Jax. In a few days, I would be legally married to him. I would live in his house, share his space, pretend to be in love with him.

The thought sent an unexpected shiver down my spine—not entirely unpleasant, which was concerning in itself.

Leo drove me to the courthouse in his luxury car, filling the silence with chatter about the upcoming ceremony, a simple affair at Jax's house with only the necessary witnesses and the social media strategy they'd crafted to announce our marriage.

Jax was waiting on the courthouse steps, looking uncomfortable in a dark blue button-down and slacks. When he saw us approaching, he straightened, his expression unreadable.

"You're late," he said as we reached him.

"By three minutes," Leo countered cheerfully. "Blame Seattle traffic, not me."

"Hi," I said awkwardly.

"Hi," Jax echoed, his eyes scanning my face. "You look... nice."

"Thanks. So do you."

Leo glanced between us, amusement evident in his expression. "Wow, such passion. Such chemistry. You two really sell the madly-in-love vibe."

"Shut up, Leo," Jax muttered, but I noticed the corner of his mouth twitch.

"We're working on it," I added, surprising myself with a small smile in Jax's direction. "Right, sweetie pie?"

Jax's eyebrows rose at my use of last night's text endearment, but he recovered quickly. "Absolutely, cupcake."

Leo snorted. "Well, at least you're trying. Now, shall we get this show on the road? We have an appointment."

Inside the courthouse, we were directed to a waiting area outside the county clerk's office. The space was buzzing with other couples—some in elaborate wedding attire, others in casual clothes like us. The difference was that they were all genuinely in love, starting their lives together with authentic hope and devotion.

I felt a twinge of something like guilt, quickly suppressed. This was necessary. A means to an end.

"Sienna!" Chloe's voice called from the entrance. She hurried toward us, slightly out of breath. "Sorry I'm late. The morning rush hit right after you left."

"What are you doing here? What about the bakery?" I asked, surprised.

"You didn't think I'd let you get a marriage license without me, did you? Even a fake one." She lowered her voice on the last part. "I'm your witness, dummy. I had a friend look after your bakery."

I hugged her tightly, suddenly grateful for her presence. "Thank you," I whispered.

"Besides," she added with a meaningful look toward Leo, who was checking his phone, "someone needs to make sure ‘Sly Leo’ over there doesn't pull any fast ones in the paperwork."

"I can hear you," Leo said without looking up. "And for the record, the nickname was 'Smooth Leo,' not 'Sly Leo.' Get your insults right, Chloe."

"Harrison and Williams?" a clerk called before Chloe could retort.

We approached the counter, where a middle-aged woman with kind eyes smiled at us. "Marriage license application?"

"Yes," Jax confirmed, handing over our completed forms and identification.

The clerk reviewed our paperwork, occasionally glancing up with a warm smile. "Known each other long?" she asked conversationally.

"Not really," I admitted before I could stop myself.

The clerk's eyebrows rose slightly.

"But when it's right, you just know," Jax added smoothly, slipping his arm around my waist in a gesture that felt surprisingly natural. "Why wait when you've found your perfect match?"

"That's so romantic," the clerk sighed. "It's refreshing to see young people who aren't afraid to commit when they find true love."

I felt a stab of guilt at her words but forced a smile. "Yes, we're... very blessed to have found each other."

"Absolutely besotted," Leo added helpfully. "You should see them together. Sickeningly sweet."

The clerk continued processing our application, asking routine questions that Jax answered with practiced ease. When she asked about the ceremony, his hand tightened slightly on my waist.

"Small, private ceremony," he explained. "Just close friends for now. Sienna's bakery is very busy this season, and with my playoff schedule, we don't have time for anything elaborate."

"A bakery? How lovely!" the clerk exclaimed. "And you're a hockey player, is that right? I thought you looked familiar."

Jax nodded, looking uncomfortable with the recognition. I found myself jumping in to rescue him.

"He's very modest about it," I said, leaning into him slightly. "But I'm incredibly proud of him. Not just for his career, but for who he is off the ice. The man the public doesn't get to see."

Jax looked down at me with genuine surprise, our eyes meeting for a moment. Something passed between us—a silent gratitude for the unexpected support.

"Well, everything seems in order," the clerk announced, stamping our application. "Congratulations, you two. Your marriage license will be valid as soon as you sign here, remaining effective for the next sixty days. After your ceremony, your officiant will submit the certificate, and you'll be officially married."

We signed where indicated, and just like that, we were one step closer to our fake marriage.

Outside the courthouse, Leo checked his watch. "I need to make some calls about the ceremony arrangements. Chloe, want to grab a coffee while these two lovebirds discuss their living arrangements?" His tone made it clear it wasn't really a question.

"I'd rather gargle glass," Chloe replied sweetly. "But I suppose I can tolerate your presence for ten minutes if you're paying."

They walked off, bickering, leaving Jax and me alone on the courthouse steps.

"Well, that was... something," I said, unsure what else to say.

"Yeah." Jax ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I was beginning to recognize as a sign of discomfort. "Leo and your friend seem to have a history."

"Apparently they were rivals in business school," I explained. "Though I suspect there's more to that story than either is telling."

Jax's lips curved in a slight smile. "Definitely. Leo never gets that worked up unless there's more at stake than professional pride."

A young woman approached us hesitantly, phone in hand. "Excuse me, are you Jax Harrison? From the Kraken?"

Jax's expression immediately shifted to what I was coming to think of as his "public face"—polite but distant. "Yes."

"Could I get a photo with you? My boyfriend is a huge fan."

"Of course," Jax agreed smoothly, then glanced at me. "Do you mind, sweetheart?"

The endearment took me by surprise, though I quickly realized he was already in character for our arrangement.

"Not at all," I replied, stepping aside.

"Oh, you should be in it too!" the fan insisted. "Are you two together? There were those videos online..."

Without hesitation, Jax placed his arm around my shoulders, drawing me against his side. "Yes, this is Sienna, my... fiancée."

The word hung in the air, surreal yet somehow thrilling to hear. The fan's eyes widened.

"Oh my god, congratulations! That's amazing!"

She positioned herself for a selfie with us, and I found myself smiling naturally, hyper-aware of Jax's solid warmth beside me, the gentle pressure of his arm across my shoulders. The moment felt bizarrely authentic, as though we really were a happy couple sharing our joy with a stranger.

After the fan left, Jax immediately dropped his arm and took a step back, reverting to his usual reserved demeanor. The contrast was jarring.

"You said fiancée," I observed. "Not wife."

"The license isn't finalized yet," he pointed out. "Technically, you're not my wife until after the ceremony."

"Which is when, exactly?"

"Two days from now. Small ceremony at my house, just the necessary witnesses. Leo's arranging everything." He hesitated. "You should start packing your things. And your dog's things. We'll need to maintain the appearance of a real marriage, which means living together immediately after the ceremony."

The reality of what I'd agreed to hit me anew. In two days, I would be moving into Jax Harrison's mansion, sharing his space, pretending to be his loving wife.

"I'll help you move," he added, seeming to sense my sudden anxiety. "And you can bring whatever you need to make the space feel... comfortable for you."

"Thank you," I said, oddly touched by the offer. "I don't have much—my apartment is tiny. Mostly it'll be my clothes, some baking supplies, and Sprinkles' things."

We stood in awkward silence for a moment, neither sure what to say next.

"I should get back to the bakery," I finally said.

"And I have practice," Jax replied. "Leo will be in touch about the ceremony details."

Before we parted ways, Jax reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. "I almost forgot. This is for you."

I stared at the box, my heart inexplicably racing. "What is it?"

"Your engagement ring," he said simply. "If we're selling this as real, you'll need to wear it."

With slightly trembling fingers, I opened the box to find a beautiful vintage-inspired ring with intricate detailing that immediately reminded me of the art deco designs in my grandmother's bakery. It was elegant, unique, and somehow perfectly suited to my taste.

"It's beautiful," I said honestly, surprised by his selection. "How did you know I'd like this style?"

"I didn't," he admitted. "It just... seemed like you."

Our fingers brushed as I removed the ring from its box, a fleeting touch that sent an unexpected jolt through me. My breath hitched slightly as I slipped it onto my finger, finding that it fit perfectly.

"How did you know my size?" I asked, admiring how the morning light caught the diamonds.

"Leo checked your social media for photos that showed your hands," Jax explained, looking slightly embarrassed. "We wanted to get it right."

I wasn't sure how to feel about that—impressed by the thoroughness or uncomfortable with the investigation into my life. Perhaps both.

"Well, it's perfect," I said, still staring at the ring. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He cleared his throat. "I'll see you at the ceremony, then."

"See you at the ceremony," I echoed, the words surreal on my tongue.

As I walked back to the bakery, I kept glancing at the ring on my finger, the weight of it unfamiliar yet somehow grounding. This was really happening. In a few days, I would be Sienna Harrison, at least on paper. The thought sent a complicated mix of emotions swirling through me—anxiety, uncertainty, and something else I wasn't ready to examine too closely.

Just three months, I reminded myself firmly. I could handle living with Jax for that long. I could handle pretending to be in love with him. The challenging part would be remembering it wasn't real—especially when he looked at me with those intense eyes, or when his hand rested on my lower back, or when he called me "sweetheart" in that deep voice that seemed to resonate in my bones.

Business, I thought firmly, turning the ring on my finger. This is just business.

But as I reached the bakery, I began wondering, if this was purely business, why couldn't I stop smiling at the sight of the ring he'd chosen so perfectly for me?