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A Fake Marriage Hockey Romance

MY ONE NIGHT STAND IS NOW MY FAKE HUSBAND ....

Mia

I don’t do professional athletes. And I certainly don’t do one-night stands.

But after my father tells me I need to marry before he’ll let me take over his PR firm, which has been my one and only dream since I was a kid, I decide I need a night out.

And when I meet a hot guy at the bar, I decide I want to play.

He takes me to his home on a gorgeous ranch. We steam up the sheets all night long.

I’m sure I’ll never see him again.

Until the next day, when my uncle introduces him as my future husband.

Declan

Before I retire from playing hockey I’m lining up my next shot—ownership. But the team’s got a PR problem, and they’ll never approve a bachelor.

I’m not in a relationship. I’m not even dating.

And I can’t remember the last time I was interested in someone. Until I go to the bar after the game to blow off some steam and figure out my next move.

That’s when I meet her. Mia. The first woman I can remember who doesn’t know I’m a big time hockey player.

After we spend an incredible night together, I figure that’s it.

Until my agent calls me into his office. The only other person in the room? Mia.

My future wife.

We vow to keep our arrangement strictly professional so we both get what we want. But the more we face off, the more I want to score…

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "To say I was blown away is an understatement! This book sucked me in from the first page! Declan and Mia were absolute perfection!”

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "Hockey player romance is my favorite and I've read many—this book rivals the great ones!”

“When did you last go home with someone?” Max asks me.

Too long.

I glance toward the bar. My gaze slides past the hordes of women and snags on—

Her.

A woman with hair so dark it would make a midnight sky look pale; toned, bare legs she’s got crossed where she sits on her stool; and the most amazing laugh as she throws her head back in amusement at something her friend just said.

Her friend leaves, and I’m still fixated on her. Which is why, when some asshole pushes into her on his way to the bar, I react.

I’m out of my seat and shoving past Max before I know what I’m doing. I vaguely hear Jared calling to me, but I’m too focused on rescuing the woman at the bar to stop.

I’m about five steps away from clocking the asshole when I realize she doesn’t need saving.

He’s got her pinned from behind, and I watch in admiration as she slams her high heel onto the top of his foot. He drops one hand off of her, and she elbows him in the solar plexus, forcing him to drop his other hand. She spins around and jabs a finger in his face.

“That’s what you get for touching a woman without permission.”

I’ve reached them now. “Is there a problem?”

The woman turns toward me. “No, thank you.”

The man takes one look at me and runs off like the coward he is.

Without thinking first, I reach out and brush a stray hair out of the woman’s face. As my fingers lightly touch her soft cheek, a powerful jolt of electricity shoots through me.

Fuck.

I shove my hands into my jeans pockets. “That was impressive handiwork,” I say. “You certainly took care of him.”

“Self-defense class,” she says casually. “My father made me take it.”

“Smart dad,” I say.

She smiles. I back up to give her room to return to her stool, but as she steps toward it, she stumbles.

She throws out a hand and it connects with my chest. I catch her by the waist to make sure she stays on her feet.

“I’m good,” she says quickly. “Thank you.”

But she doesn’t remove her hand, which is warm against my heart.

I swallow. “Can I buy you a drink?”

She nods. “That would be nice. It’s been a day.”

Five minutes later, we’re seated at a table for two around the corner of the bar. We each have a bottle of beer in front of us. I don’t think my teammates can see me from here, but I’m not worried about them interfering. We have an unspoken code between us—if one of us is with a woman, the rest of us know to keep our distance.

“So, what do you do?” I ask her. I purposefully don’t ask for her name because I’m not sure where this is going, and I don’t want to give out my name if she’s only with me for that reason.

“I’m my father’s right-hand woman for our family PR firm. He’s been supposed to retire for ten years.”

I chuckle. “Doesn’t want to give up the reins, huh?”

“Bingo.” She fixes those blue eyes on me. “What about you?”

I exhale and take off my hat, sure she’ll recognize me.

But there’s no flicker of recognition in her eyes.

And suddenly, I’m nervous.

I’m so used to puck bunnies pawing at me after games that I’ve forgotten how to act around a woman who wants to know me as a man and not a hockey player.

“I’m a professional athlete.”

I wait for the squealing.

It never comes.

She stares at me. “Are you serious?”

“Yep.”

“You play a sport for a living?”

I nod.

“Rodeo?”

I chuckle. “Definitely not.”

She smiles. “You don’t seem like a rodeo guy. That’s the only kind of professional sport I have any clue about. I work with ranchers and cowboys.”

“Oh, yeah?”

She nods. “Our company specializes in helping ranchers who want to hold onto their land. We provide different ways for them to bring in money to ease their financial stress.”

“That’s cool. What kinds of ways?”

“You name it, we’ve probably tried it. Dude ranches, corporate retreats, parties, and events…I’m in charge of outreach and marketing. I lead presentations to sign new accounts.”

“You must be good at what you do.” This woman has no issue taking charge—and for once, that gets me even more stirred up.

“It comes naturally to me, I guess. Maybe because I grew up on a ranch, so I get the cowboy mentality.” She sucks in a breath as her sky-blue eyes find mine. “I’ve never dated an athlete, though. Or a cowboy. I’ve only ever dated corporate guys before. Which is funny because my uncle is a sports agent. But I tend to tune out whenever he talks about his work.” She throws her head back again and laughs.

And I want her badly.

“So if you only date corporate types,” I say slowly, “that means you normally date people like yourself?”

“Yes. Precisely.”

I reach out my hand. “I guess we’re opposites then.”

As my hand covers hers, the current I felt between us when we touched at the bar is about a thousand times stronger. She feels it, too. I can tell because she noticeably shivers. Her eyes darken, and she flips her hand palm up so we can link our fingers together.

“Opposites, huh?” She swallows noticeably. “That could be interesting.”

My dick hardens inside my jeans, and I shift in my chair. “You’re beautiful,” I say to her, surprised at the stark honesty in my voice.

“Thank you.”

“What’s your name?” I ask her suddenly, unable to stop myself from wanting to learn more about her.

“Mia.”

“I’m Declan.”

She smiles at me. “Nice to meet you, Declan.”

“Same here.”

And then she shocks the hell out of me when she says in nearly a whisper…

“Do you want to get out of here?”

I throw some bills down on the table. “Absolutely.”