Page 60 of His Jersey

Only, it’s Jack in fitness gear and thoroughly saturated with sweat. He lets go of Bark Wahlburger’s leash and the dog rushes to his water bowl.

Jack sets down two paper cups and a white pastry bag. “Good morning. You’re awake. How’d you sleep? Well, I hope. I got us some coffee and muffins. Not sure what you like—” His words are one long bright-eyed and bushy-tailed ramble.

“You’re an early bird, I take it.”

He smirks and kicks off his sneakers. Ah, so he’s human, too. Good to know.

“Took Bark Wahlburger to let loose some energy on a run, figured you might be hungry, stopped at a bakery down the road, but, uh, then I raced back, sloshing the coffee everywhere so I had to drink some.” He seems strangely nervous as if he was afraid that when he woke up or got back, I’d be gone. But Jack is swagger incarnate. I can’t imagine anything making him even slightly on edge.

I say, “I’m not a caffeine fiend. Plus, I could’ve made some.”

“I don’t even know if there are mugs.”

“The housekeeper keeps the bathroom well stocked. I’m sure the kitchen is, too.”

“I thought you might’ve left,” he blurts then abruptly searches the cabinets for a plate for the muffins. When he turns around, relief lights his eyes as if assured by the fact that I didn’t vanish.

Or maybe that’s just my imagination.

“Where would I go?” I ask.

Bracing my arms, he says, “To Cobbiton with me.”

I meant where would I go from here, right now, but he’s already thinking down the road. I don’t have much of a life to go back to and was essentially homeless. The promise of Prince Charming—at least temporarily—is alluring. When my fiancée visa expires, I can pick back up again and maybe get an apartment or a room with someone.

Nibbling my lip, I ask, “What would being your fiancée entail?”

“This.” He gestures to our breakfast.

“And wearing your jersey to games.”

“Also that. Um, public appearances. You know, doing life together.”

“The only problem is I spend every available moment earning money to pay my father’s medical bills.”

“I’ll take care of it.” He sets out some napkins.

My shoulders sag. “You can’t just throw money at everything.”

Tipping his head from side to side, he says, “Actually, I can.”

“What if someone found out?”

“They won’t.”

“I don’t feel good about lying to people about our status for money.”

He speaks robotically when he says, “The Knights want commitment. I have to go all in. You’re in a tight spot financially. I’ll support you. It’s a win-win.”

Jack’s gaze holds mine for a long moment. There’s sincerity there and playfulness, too, as his lips quirk. My thoughts collide like two guys on the ice—one in red and one in white. One encourages me to have fun and the other cautions me to be careful.

I take a sip of coffee, instantly feeling alert. I wasliving a fake five-star life at the resort, so it’s not a great leap to be his fake wife-to-be. It’s not like I have anything else to lose.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

His smile grows and his shoulders visibly relax. “Good, because we leave tomorrow. But tonight, we have dinner with my father where we’ll make the announcement.”

I swallow thickly because I thought meeting Allain Bouchelle was a one-off event. Even though I’ve had a lot of practice handling entitled rich people, if anyone would see through us, it would be his father.

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