3. Caroline

I'm still sitting down as Peter stands and gathers his things. He's putting the deed and contract back into the folder, adjusting his clothes, and taking his sweet damn time about it, too. He's enjoying this.

There's a cold fist in my chest, squeezing tighter by the second. I've always fixed my own problems. I've always had the answers. But what he's suggesting is impossible. I'm not even dating, let alone engaged. I've got a two-month-old son, and Walker's real dad doesn't even know he's a father because… well, it's complicated. But I have zero chance of meeting the right guy and hitting it off in time for a wedding in six months.

I think I might hyperventilate. Do I even know how to hyperventilate?

"Well," Peter says. "It was nice to catch up, Caroline. Oh, and if you would, please hire a cleaner." He runs his fingertip along a nearby windowsill and lifts it for me to see. "It's a bit dusty."

Peter is about to leave, but the light from the lobby dims. We both look toward the doorway, where a huge man has just appeared.

"Jake?" I whisper.

Jake Summers, in all his glory, is walking into the room. There's something in his eyes I'm not sure I like, either. He's giving me this look… this look like he's about to–

He stops in front of me, slides one hand into my hair, and leans in to plant a kiss right on my mouth.

I'm too stunned to kiss him back, but my brain distantly registers the warmth of his full lips and even the tease of his tongue.

The feeling of his mouth on mine is like fresh water over cracked lips. I can't help but drink it in and wish I could drown in this feeling. I frantically try to memorize the velvety touch of his lips on mine and the wet heat of his tongue.

Then he's pulling back, and the stars in my eyes start to slow down.

I blink up at him, and he winks. He lifts his thumb and wipes something from the corner of my mouth. "Just a bit of drool," he says.

I lift a shaking hand and touch my lips. My brain feels like it used to in Mr. K's geometry class. That class made me feel like my brain was just one big, smooth, ridgeless mass. Perfectly smooth and slick. Everything he said either bounced or slid right off, never to be comprehended or remembered.

Right now, Jake has turned me into a smooth brain. Damn him.

"Hi," I manage.

"Hey, Sweetie," Jake says.

He rests his hand on my shoulder like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Sweetie," I breathe. What the hell is going on?

Jake smiles, but something in his expression seems a little urgent. Almost like he's telling me to stop messing this up.

What am I messing up, exactly? What was that badger-eyed man in the suit even talking about a few minutes ago?

"I couldn't help hearing a bit of the conversation when I came in," Jake says. "Sounds like we may have to move the wedding up a bit to hit this deadline, huh?"

"We're going to…" I mutter.

Peter's face is red as he looks between us, his eyes wide with outrage. "What is this?"

Jake looks around, gesturing. "We call it the kitchen."

A vein appears on Peter's forehead. I think I can actually see it pulsing.

I just needed a few seconds. The shock and confusion are fading, so I can smile and play along. "It will take a little work, but Jake's right. We'll just have to move the wedding up."

Peter starts to shake his head, finger raised as he wags it. "I'm not falling for this. Not in the slightest."

"Does it matter what you fall for?" I ask sweetly. "The contract terms only say I must be married before I turn thirty-five. Right?"

Peter's mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish out of the water. He clamps it shut, jowls wiggling menacingly. "We'll speak soon," he says before storming out of the room, briefcase in hand.

I let out a breath. "What the hell was that?" I demand.

"Looked like me bailing you out."

"You can't just walk up and kiss people without their permission." There's nowhere near enough outrage in my voice, but I've never been a great actress.

He smirks. We both know I definitely enjoyed that kiss. Probably more than him.

"You're right," he says. "Won't happen again."

"Well," I say, running my hands over my jeans as if there are wrinkles to smooth out. "Thank you, though. At least you bought me some time."

"Sure," Jake says, stepping back from my side. He takes the seat where Peter was just sitting. He's almost twice Peter's size. He dwarfs the space with his huge frame. Jake has dark hair, prominent eyebrows, and icy blue eyes. He has pale skin like his sister, Andi, and his cheeks always go patchy red from cold or exertion. Once upon a time, I used to think of him as my mysterious ice prince–the man whose heart I got to borrow occasionally but never keep.

Part of me even liked things the way they were. It was uncomplicated and simple. It also allowed us both to stay focused on our careers, which is how I liked things.

And then everything got screwed up.

"How much did you hear?"

"Almost all of it. I already texted my lawyer and asked him to take a look. I pay him well, so we should hear back pretty soon."

"You… Okay," I say, grinning as a little rush of gratitude flows through me. I don't usually do well with letting other people handle my problems. Jake was always a weak spot, though. That's just who he is. He always has the answer. He always knows what to do and say. It's why all the guys on the team see him as their de facto leader, whether he tries to be seen that way or not. "Thank you."

He nods, and the brief silence that follows seems full of all the things that have festered between us in the last year. I know the lie I told drove an even deeper wedge between us. I let him believe it was somebody else who got me pregnant. I let him believe it because I thought I was doing the right thing. It sounds insane to me now, but I know I can cut my past self a little slack. There were so many factors at play.

"Jake…" I start slowly, uncertain. For a second, I think I'm about to just tell him. It's what I meant to do two months ago, after all. I practiced how I'd do it so often I could say it in my sleep. I wanted to say I know you never wanted kids. I know you're going to think I'm trying to baby-trap you, just like that horrible woman tried to. I know you probably won't believe it's true, but I need you to at least hear it once from me. There was never any other man. Walker is your son, and I have no expectation of you being in his life. But you have every right to if that's what you want.

I never got those words out two months ago. Instead, Jake showed up the night Walker was born with my brother and the rest of his teammates. He gave Walker one quick look and slipped out of the delivery room before I even had a moment alone with him to say what I was planning to say–before I'd even recovered from the exhaustion of giving birth.

Then he went clubbing with his friends, and I heard he had taken some random woman home with him.

It shouldn't have mattered, but I felt so alone, and his actions hammered the point home. So I didn't track him down to tell him. I told myself I'd let him know soon, though. And then being a parent took over. Time started creeping by, and now Walker has been on this Earth for two months, and Jake still has no idea he's the father.

That makes me a terrible person, and I know it. So, I'm making myself a promise. I have one week to wait for a better opportunity to spill the truth. One week. No exceptions. If the right opportunity doesn't come, I'll just blurt it out when my time is up. If he's not still in Frosty Harbor, I'll shoot him a freaking text if that's what it takes.

Jake grins a little. "You alright? You look a little constipated or something."

I fold my arms and give him a dirty look. "We have barely talked in months, and you show up to save the day like a knight in shining armor. Then you ask me if I'm constipated?"

"That guy sounded too sure of himself. I wanted to see the look on his face when his plan got screwed up."

"Well, I appreciate it. But I also don't know what I'm going to actually do."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not like you're going to marry me in six months. So I need to figure something out."

Jake looks serious. "Here's the thing…"

My stomach clenches, and my skin tingles all over. He's not actually serious about this, is he?

"I've got some shit going on with the team," Jake says. "They're worried about my off-the-ice behavior. My agent told me I needed to find a way to convince them I was cleaning up my act. I got back in town last night, hung out with Jesse and Andi, and then decided to swing by and see you. And what do I hear? A golden opportunity for both of us."

Now I'm scowling. "Explain."

He's still wearing that boyish smile, and I wish it didn't make me feel like I was melting from the inside out. "You get your fake husband and keep the inn. I get a fake wife and my contract. We both win. Nobody gets hurt."

I'm waiting for the punchline. There has to be a punchline because it sounds too good to be true and too stupid to make sense. "But?" I ask.

He considers. "We may want to keep the truth about this quiet. If the team finds out, I can kiss the contract goodbye. And I'm not sure this Peter asshole won't find a loophole to say you haven't breached the contract."

I rest my chin on top of my hands, then shake my head and laugh as I actually consider it. "This is crazy. You realize that, right? We've barely spoken in a year, and now you want to pretend we're engaged? You want to actually get married after our fake engagement?"

He shrugs. "I could think of a few worse people to get fake hitched to." There's that smile again. "Besides, we can always divorce once we've got what we want secured and bagged up. No big deal, right?"

"And you actually think we can keep the fact that this is fake a secret from all our friends? I can't even tell Andi or Mia?"

Jake considers. He looks kind of dreamy when he considers things. Or when he's not thinking much at all. Actually, he always looks dreamy. "Keeping it quiet would be safest."

"None of our friends will believe it."

"Maybe," he says. "But we'll just make this Peter guy think we're already engaged. We can pretend we're starting to date for our friends' sake. Then we spring the engagement news on them once it feels more natural and pretend we're rushing the wedding. Who says the timelines have to line up, right?"

I blow out a breath. "This feels like a bad idea."

"What's the worst that happens?"

"Um, I don't know. Total and utter failure? Our friends furious with us for lying and Peter taking my BB? Walker growing up homeless because his mom lost her livelihood?"

Something hard passes over Jake's face. "You're never going to be homeless, Caroline. I know we've had our differences, but I've always got your back. You understand?"

I feel like I'm being scolded for thinking it wasn't obvious that Jake wouldn't bail me out if it came to that. Realistically, he'd probably have to fight my brother, Jesse, for a chance to be the one to save me from destitution. I sigh, nod, and smile. "Thank you. And we don't have differences. We just… drifted apart, right?"

"Yeah," Jake says, but his tone is a little too stiff. "So? Are we doing this, or what?"

I swallow hard. "Okay… Okay. Yeah. Let's do this."

"Great." He gives the table a quick slap with his hands and stands up. "Peter didn't seem to notice you weren't wearing a ring. Otherwise, I figure he probably would've mentioned it. But we've got to fix that. Can you hop on a plane tomorrow? We need to go somewhere to pick out your ring."

"What?" I ask. "I thought we were going to pretend to date first."

"You'll have the ring in case we run into Peter. You don't wear it in front of our friends. Easy."

"Easy," I agree, sounding much less sure than him. "But Walker hasn't ever flown."

"Oh," he says, then shrugs. "I can borrow the team's private jet. He can cry all he wants. No big deal."

"I'd rather he doesn't cry if it's all the same to you," I say, a little tightly.

Jake nods slowly. "Good point. But the private jet will be quieter and a smoother ride. You can walk him around as much as you need or feed him when you want. He'll be happy as a bug in a rug."

"Okay, fine. But couldn't we just order a ring online?"

Jake scowls at that. "My fake fiancée is not wearing an online wedding ring. Fuck that." Then he grins. "Only the best for my fake girl."

I work my lips to the side, trying not to smile too much at how this feels. One week, Caroline. You will tell this man he's your baby"s father in one week. Or sooner if the opportunity presents itself.

"Okay," I say. "I'll go do some light packing for the trip."