Page 62 of Pucking Daddy

Simone guides me toward the family suite—a glassed-in box overlooking center ice—while rattling off instructions.

Don't engage with media. Stay visible but not attention-seeking. No photos with other team families that could be misconstrued.

And absolutely, under no circumstances, sit anywhere near Jaxon's ex-wife, who apparently has a habit of showing up to games she has no business attending.

"Wait." I stop walking. "She's here?"

"Section 112. With her fiancé." Simone's expression stays neutral, but her tone says everything. "Best to pretend you haven't noticed."

Pretend. Right. Because that's what this whole thing is—pretend. A carefully constructed performance designed to convince a judge that Jaxon Halberg is husband material.

Except nothing about the night at Mickey's has been pretend.

The memory ambushes me—cedar and exhaustion, his hands on my hips, the rough scrape of his voice in my ear. I shove it down hard enough to bruise.

"I understand," I say. "I can pretend."

Simone's smile thaws by approximately one degree. "You'll do fine."

I am not so sure.

***

The game is a blur of violence and grace.

Jaxon stands behind the bench in a charcoal suit, headset on, jaw carved from granite. He barks orders I can't hear over the crowd's roar, and his players respond like soldiers—precise, aggressive, utterly focused.

He’s entirely in his element, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

At the same time, something in me itches to unravel that control. To watch him come undone again.

God.

I can feel some moisture building between my legs.

Get it together.

When the Raptors score in the second period, the arena erupts, but Jaxon just nods once and makes a note on his clipboard.

Control. That is his whole existence. Control of the game, control of his team, control of every variable that can threaten what he's built.

What will it cost him to marry someone for convenience? To surrender even that much autonomy to circumstance?

My phone buzzes.

Danny:

Everything okay?

I haven’t told him about Jaxon and me yet. But he’s going to find out soon anyway, so I might as well tell him now.

Me:

At a hockey game…

Danny:

You? Hockey?