Chapter 4 Jack

I glance over at Elyse curled up on the couch, her long legs tucked beneath her as she reads a case file. The soft lamplight casts a warm glow over her features, and I'm captivated by the way her brow furrows in concentration. A loose tendril of dark hair falls across her face, and she tucks it back absently, her olive eyes never leaving the pages before her.

An unexpected surge of affection washes over me. This woman has somehow managed to slip past the walls I've carefully constructed around my heart since Karina. I shake my head, bemused by the realization that I actually want her in my life as more than just my teammate's little sister.

The scent of pizza wafts up from the kitchen, where Sam is putting the finishing touches on his signature deep dish. My stomach rumbles in anticipation. Elyse must hear it because she looks up, a teasing smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Hungry?"

"Starving," I say with a chuckle. "Sam's cooking always does that to me."

She closes the file, rising from the couch with a languid stretch that draws my gaze to the slender curves of her body. Get a grip, Ford. This is Masterson's sister you're ogling.

She nods. "My folks and I have missed his cooking. If it hadn't been for hockey, he'd have been a chef."

"No doubt." Clearing my throat, I gesture toward the kitchen. "Shall we?"

Elyse nods, falling into step beside me as we make our way down the hall. Sam greets us with a wide grin, dishing out generous slices onto paper plates. "Best pizza in Seattle," he declares proudly. "Maybe even the whole Pacific Northwest."

We settle around the breakfast bar, digging into the cheesy, sauce-laden masterpiece. For a few minutes, the only sounds are appreciative hums. Finally, Sam breaks the silence. "So, any big plans for your night off, sis?"

She shakes her head. "Just catching up on some work for the internship."

"On a Friday night?" Sam tsks disapprovingly. "You need to get out more. All work and no play…"

"I get plenty of play," she retorts, arching one sculpted brow. "I'm just being responsible."

Elyse's idea of "play" flashes through my mind. I force them, and an accompanying surge of jealousy, away to focus on the matter at hand.

Sam shoots me a sidelong glance, a mischievous gleam in his green eyes. "Actually, I had an idea about that…"

Here it comes. I tense, bracing myself for a madcap Sam scheme.

"Hear me out," he says, turning his attention back to Elyse. "Jack's been taking a beating in the press lately over his ‘bachelor lifestyle.'" He air-quotes the last two words with his fingers. "The gossip rags can't get enough of his supposed string of one-night stands and casual flings."

Elyse's eyes flick toward me, her expression unreadable. I fight the urge to squirm under her scrutiny.

"So?" she prompts when Sam pauses.

"So…" he drawls, dragging out the word. "I was thinking it might be a good idea for Jack to have a…girlfriend. You know, for appearances' sake. Shake off that pesky playboy reputation."

I nearly choke on my pizza. Of all the hare-brained schemes…

But Elyse is grinning now, clearly entertained by the idea. "You want me to be Jack's fake girlfriend?"

"Exactly." Sam beams. "Who better than my dear baby sister? You're gorgeous, funny, and way too smart to fall for this lug…" He jerks a thumb in my direction teasingly. "Plus, you've got that whole ‘good girl' vibe going on. Perfect for cleaning up Jack's image."

"You know ninety percent of that garbage is just lies and rumors," I say, feeling the need to explain myself to Elyse.

Elyse's smile falters, and for a horrible moment, I think she might actually consider it. The thought is exhilarating and terrifying. To have her on my arm, to be able to touch her freely, to steal kisses…

No. I can't let this happen. I won't use Elyse that way, no matter how harmless Sam thinks it is.

"That's…" I begin, searching for the right words to let her down gently.

Elyse is already shaking her head, amusement flickering in those captivating eyes. "As fun as that sounds, I'm going to have to pass."

Relief and disappointment war within me. This is for the best.

"Aw, c'mon." Sam scowls. "Think of how much fun we could have with the whole charade?"

"Sorry, Sam." Her tone holds a hint of reproach. "As entertaining as it might be to punk the paparazzi, I'm not really into the whole fake dating scene."

Sam opens his mouth—no doubt to continue his campaign of persuasion—but I cut him off. "Enough, Masterson. Your sister's made her decision."

He subsides with a resigned shrug. "If you two change your minds, you know where to find me."

With the subject effectively dropped, we lapse back into comfortable small talk and friendly banter over the remains of the pizza, but a tiny part of me can't help dwelling on the idea of having Elyse as my girlfriend—even a pretend one.

It's ridiculous, of course. A relationship with her, real or fabricated, would only lead to complications neither of us needs. Better to appreciate her from afar as the intelligent, compassionate, unfailingly, almost too damned cheerful woman she is.

Still…

I can't quite smother a flicker of wistfulness as I watch her animated discussion with Sam, eyes sparkling with laughter. Having her by my side, even platonically, is more appealing than I ever imagined it could be.

Elyse's eyes meet mine, and the corners of her mouth quirk upwards in a private little smile. Warmth blossoms in my chest, and for a brief, delirious moment, I imagine a different reality. One where I'm allowed to love this woman without restraint or fear of consequences.

The sudden rush of longing leaves me reeling. I quickly look away, busying myself with gathering empty plates and napkins. Get a grip, Ford. This is just friendly affection, nothing more. There's no point in deluding myself otherwise.

I glance over at Elyse again, lingering on the curve of her lips as she laughs at something Sam says. Warmth blooms in my chest, that treacherous part of me whispering what if…

Before I can silence the thought, the words tumble from my mouth. "You know, Masterson might be onto something with this fake dating idea."

Elyse's laughter fades, her eyes widening in surprise. "Wait…what?"

Sam perks up, intrigued. "You're actually considering it?"

I shrug, feigning nonchalance though my heart pounds in my ears. "Why not? It could be…fun." The word feels inadequate, but I can't bring myself to voice the depth of my yearning.

She shakes her head slowly. "Jack, I…" She trails off, biting her full lower lip. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"C'mon, sis." Sam leans forward, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Buried under a mountain of casework and legal precedents," she says dryly.

I can see the hint of temptation flickering in her gaze as it meets mine. She wants this, even if she won't admit it aloud. Pressing my advantage, I say, "Think about it, Elyse. You'd have an all-access pass to my world. The locker room, the arena, the after-parties…" I let the suggestion hang, watching interest bloom in her eyes.

She swallows hard, and it's clear I've struck a chord. Being part of the Firebirds' inner circle appeals to her. "I don't know…" She chews on her lip again, wavering.

Sam jumps in, sensing her indecision. "It'll be a blast. We can pull all kinds of crazy stunts to mess with the media vultures."

A reluctant smile tugs at the corners of Elyse's mouth. "Like what? Faking dramatic public breakups? Sneaking around behind everyone's backs?"

"Exactly." Sam laughs. "The possibilities are endless."

"Or we can behave like adults and just project an image that gets the vultures to back off me for a bit." I lean back, crossing my arms over my chest as I regard Elyse thoughtfully. She's hooked - I can tell. Now it's just a matter of reeling her in. "Well?" I prompt. "What do you say, Sister Masterson? Are you in or out?"

She holds my gaze for a long moment, indecision warring on her delicate features. She seems poised to refuse, but then her eyes widen, like she's had an epiphany. That makes her frown harder before finally, she blows out a resigned breath. "Oh, what the hell? I'm in."

A slow grin spreads across my face as triumph surges through me. "That's my girl."

The endearment slips out before I can stop it. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, but she doesn't comment. Instead, a hesitant smile curves her lips as she ducks her head, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Sam lets out a whoop of victory. "This is going to be epic. I can't wait to see the looks on everyone's faces when we spread the word that you're not banging a different chick every night."

I frown. "You want the world to think I'm banging your sister instead?"

His eyes widen, and he suddenly seems to have second thoughts before his expression clears. He's as irritatingly cheerful as his sister sometimes. "We know you wouldn't do that. Here's what I'm thinking…"

I tune out his enthusiastic babbling, my attention wholly focused on the woman beside me. She's a puzzle I can't quite figure out—brilliant and driven one moment and sweetly vulnerable the next. Fierce protectiveness rises within me, so intense that it startles me.

Whatever this charade entails, I'll be damned if I let anyone hurt her. The realization is sobering, cutting through the haze of desire and affection clouding my thoughts. I'm playing a dangerous game that could easily backfire and leave us both burned, but as she lifts her head, her captivating eyes sparkling with a heady mix of excitement and anxiety, I don't care about the risks. Not when the prize is having her by my side, even under false pretenses.

This is a terrible idea, a voice of reason whispers. One that's only going to lead to heartache.

Pushing aside the warning, I lean closer until our shoulders brush. Elyse's breath catches. "Ready to give them a show, sweetheart?" I murmur, pitching my voice for her ears alone.

Her pupils dilate, lips parting on a shaky exhale. Slowly, she nods.

Game on.

***

The studio lights blaze hot, and a trickle of sweat slides down the back of my neck as I wait backstage with the rest of the guys. Sam shoots me a grin, his green eyes dancing with excitement.

"You ready for this, Cap?"

I shrug, feigning nonchalance. "Just another day at the office."

He snorts. "Right. Because getting grilled by Marv Hendricks on national TV is totally routine."

Fair point. Marv's acerbic wit and relentless line of questioning have reduced many players to a stammering mess over the years. Still, I'm not about to let Masterson see me sweat.

"Hendricks has nothing on Coach Reginald," I say easily. "His rants make the TV guy look like a pissy little kitten."

The others chuckle, the tension easing somewhat. Brock, our rookie defenseman, pipes up. "I heard Hendricks made Ovechkin cry like a little bitch last season."

"Dude, no way?" Sam hoots. "The Russian Machine? I gotta see that clip."

As the guys dissolve into raucous laughter and speculation, I allow my gaze to drift toward the studio audience. It doesn't take long to find Elyse.

She's a vision in a deep green sweater that hugs her curves in all the right places. Her dark hair tumbles in glossy waves over one shoulder, and even from here, I can see the sparkle in her eyes as she chats animatedly with the woman beside her.

Just looking at her settles something inside me, quieting the nagging doubts and insecurities that have plagued me since we decided to fake this relationship. For a little while, at least, I can pretend she's really mine.

The illusion is shattered when a production assistant pokes his head through the curtain.

"Five minutes, guys. Let's get miked up."

We shuffle forward obediently, and I do my best to focus as the wires are clipped to my jersey and an earpiece is secured. Sam leans in closer. "Don't forget, if Hendricks starts getting too personal, just give Elyse a wink or something. She'll play along."

I nod curtly, my jaw tightening. The thought of using Elyse as a shield, even under these relatively harmless circumstances, doesn't sit well with me, but it's too late to back out now.

The opening strains of the show's theme music blare, and we're ushered out onto the brightly lit stage to raucous cheers and applause. I paste on a smile, waving to the crowd as we take our seats across from Marv Hendricks himself.

The wiry host grins, his teeth blindingly white against his tanned skin. "Welcome to the Seattle Firebirds. Thanks for joining us, fellas."

A smattering of polite applause ripples through the studio audience. Hendricks leans forward, steepling his fingers.

"I have to say, you boys had quite the season last year, and expectations are high for this upcoming season too. Twelve straight wins, a record-breaking shutout streak, and, of course, that little dust-up with the Portland Blades at the end of last season." His gaze settles on me, one eyebrow arched meaningfully. "Care to share your thoughts on that, Captain Ford?"

Here we go. I straighten in my seat, projecting an air of calm assurance.

"Just some typical playoff intensity, Marv. Emotions were running high on both sides."

"Is that what you call it?" Hendricks presses, his tone deceptively mild. "Because from where I was sitting, it looked an awful lot like your goon squad trying to take out Portland's star center."

Mutters of disapproval ripple through the crowd. Sam tenses beside me, his hands clenching into fists. I shoot him a quelling look before turning back to Hendricks with a tight smile.

"With all due respect, I think you're oversimplifying things. Hockey's a physical game. Sometimes stuff happens in the heat of the moment that maybe shouldn't."

"Stuff like your boys taking out Brayden Jacobs' knee?" Hendricks presses, his eyes glinting. "Jacobs barely qualified to play this season, you know. Torn ACL, MCL, the works."

Shit. I hadn't realized the extent of Jacobs' injuries. A twinge of guilt gnaws at me, but I quickly squash it. That's the nature of the game—players get hurt all the time. "Jacobs is a hell of a player," I say carefully. "I'm sorry to hear about the severity of his injury, but I can assure you, there was no malicious intent on our part. Sometimes, these things just happen."

Hendricks opens his mouth, no doubt to continue his interrogation, but I cut him off with a tight smile.

"Speaking of players getting banged up…" I turn toward the audience, searching until my gaze finds Elyse. She's watching me closely, her lips slightly parted.

Holding her gaze, I wink slowly.

A delicate flush steals across her cheeks, but she doesn't miss a beat. She leans forward, propping her chin on one hand as she regards me with a sly smile.

"Looking good out there, babe," she mouths, loud enough for the microphones to pick up.

A startled murmur ripples through the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hendricks' brows shooting upward in surprise. Seizing the moment, I grin wolfishly at Elyse.

"Just wait till you see me later, sweetheart."

Her blush deepens, but she doesn't look away. Instead, she bites her lip in a gesture I've come to recognize as pure flirtation. Desire uncurls low in my belly as I take in the sight of her.

"Ahem." Hendricks clears his throat pointedly, dragging my attention back to him. "Care to, uh, introduce us to your…friend, Captain?"

I tear my gaze from Elyse with obvious reluctance. "Guys, this is Elyse Masterson. My girlfriend."

A shocked silence falls over the studio. Sam coughs, poorly disguising a snort of laughter. I shoot him a quelling look before pasting on my most charming smile. "What can I say, Marv? Elyse is the real MVP in my life."

The audience titters, hanging on my every word. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Elyse duck her head, but not before I catch the pleased curve of her lips.

Hendricks rallies quickly, always ready with a cutting retort. "Isn't that sweet? Here I thought the great Jack Ford was too busy sowing his wild oats to settle down."

I shrug, unconcerned. I could deny the tabloid rumors, which are mostly garbage, but people will believe them if they want. "What can I say? Elyse tamed me."

More laughter, this time accompanied by a few theatrical swoons from the crowd. Hendricks scowls faintly, clearly disgruntled at having his line of questioning so thoroughly derailed.

We banter back and forth for a while longer, the conversation mercifully light and focused on the team's success this season, but my attention keeps straying to Elyse, admiring the proud tilt of her chin and the sparkle in her eyes whenever she meets my gaze.

She's playing her part perfectly, and something warm and possessive unfurls in my chest. For this fleeting moment, she's mine in every sense that matters.

Finally, blessedly, the show wraps up. We shake hands with Hendricks and wave to the cheering crowd before being ushered off stage.

The instant we're out of sight of the cameras, Sam lets out a whoop of laughter. "Did you see Hendricks' face when Elyse called you ‘babe?' Priceless. Nice work out there, sis," he adds with an approving grin, pulling her into a rough hug.

She returns the embrace, her eyes sparkling with mischief over his shoulder. "All in a day's work, big brother."

I hang back, content to watch their playful interaction, not wanting to interrupt their moment. As though sensing I'm not interacting, she pulls away from Sam and turns toward me. Her gaze is warm and almost…affectionate. "You weren't so bad yourself, hot shot."

The endearment rolls off her tongue easily, and I'm grinning like a fool. Moving on instinct, I close the distance between us and slip an arm around her slender waist.

Her breath catches, but she doesn't pull away. If anything, she presses into me ever so slightly.

"Just doing my job, sweetheart," I say.

Heat flares in her eyes, kindling a responding spark low in my belly. For an endless moment, we're suspended in a strange sort of tension, the world around us fading away until there's nothing but her captivating gaze locked on mine.

Then Sam clears his throat loudly, shattering the spell. "Fake, right?"

Elyse blinks rapidly, putting a polite bit of distance between us as she flashes her brother an overly bright smile. "I should, uh, go powder my nose before we head out." She slips away before either of us can respond, disappearing down a hallway lined with dressing rooms.

I watch her go with an odd sense of loss.

"Dude." Sam's voice cuts through my reverie. "You've got it bad."

I tear my gaze from the spot where Elyse vanished, arching a brow at my teammate. "What are you talking about?"

He snorts. "Don't even try to play dumb with me, Ford. I saw the way you were eye-fucking my sister just now."

Heat creeps up the back of my neck, but I force myself to meet Sam's knowing look head-on. "It's all part of the act, Masterson. Gotta sell it, right?" The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, and Sam's derisive snort tells me he's not buying it either.

"Keep telling yourself that, Cap, but we both know there's nothing fake about the way you look at her."

His words strike uncomfortably close to the truth—the truth I've been avoiding since this whole charade began. Because admitting how I really feel about Elyse would mean…

I'm not ready to go there yet.

Thankfully, I'm spared from having to formulate a response by Elyse's return. She slips her hand into the crook of my elbow, her touch warm and familiar.

"Shall we?" she says, tilting her head back to meet my gaze.

My breath catches at the simple intimacy of the gesture. Suddenly, the prospect of continuing this ruse—of having her by my side, even under false pretenses—is the most appealing thing in the world.

Clearing my throat, I force a nonchalant smile. "After you, babe."

Elyse flashes me a grin while briefly squeezing my arm. Then she's leading the way toward the exit, Sam and the others trailing behind.

We make it about halfway down the hallway before a familiar figure steps into our path. My heart plummets into my stomach as I take in the petite blonde blocking our way.

"Hey, sexy." Karina rakes her gaze over me in a way that makes my skin crawl. "Imagine seeing you here." She laughs like it's the funniest joke in the world.

Elyse stiffens beside me, no doubt sensing the sudden tension thrumming through my body. Before I can react, Karina's cool blue eyes slide to her, lips curving in a mocking smile.

"And who's this pretty little thing?" She tsks, shaking her head slowly. "You always did have a thing for the innocent ones."

White-hot fury lances through me. I open my mouth, a biting retort on my lips, but Elyse beats me to it.

"I'm Elyse," she says coolly, holding Karina's stare without flinching. "Jack's girlfriend."

The words hit me like a physical blow, stealing my breath. Because the way Elyse says it—so calm, so matter-of-factly—sounds like…like she really means it.

Like she's really mine.

Karina blinks, clearly taken aback by Elyse's unruffled demeanor. Then her lips curl into a smile. "Is that what he told you, sweetie? That you're his girlfriend?" She lets out a derisive laugh, shaking her head pityingly. "Oh, honey, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into with this one."

Anger and humiliation war within me, turning my veins to ice. I can't let this go on a second longer. Gripping Elyse's elbow firmly, I steer her around Karina without a word. She resists for a split second before falling into step beside me.

"Jackie, wait," calls Karina after us, a hint of desperation creeping into her tone. "We should catch up sometime, for old time's sake."

I grit my teeth, refusing to dignify her pathetic ploy with a response. Elyse remains blessedly silent as well, allowing me to hustle her toward the exit and out into the cool evening air.

Only once we're outside, the heavy door swinging shut behind us, do I finally release the breath I've been holding. Elyse pulls her arm free, turning to face me with worried eyes.

"Jack? Are you okay?"

I rake a hand through my hair, struggling to get my emotions under control. How the hell am I supposed to explain Karina and her vile insinuations without dredging up a past I've worked hard to put behind me? "I'm fine," I say gruffly, hating how unconvincing I sound. "Just…give me a minute."

She stares at me silently for a long moment, indecision flickering across her delicate features. Slowly, she nods.

"Okay. I'll…wait for you by the car." She turns and heads for the parking lot without another word, leaving me alone with my turbulent thoughts.

I watch her go, a strange ache taking root somewhere in the vicinity of my heart. Karina's mocking laughter rings in my ears, an unwelcome reminder of the past I can't seem to escape. Of the part of me that's still broken, no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise.

Gritting my teeth, I follow after Elyse, each step feeling heavier than the last, because there's no running from the truth. Karina screwed with my head, and I'm still trying to be who I was before her.