Chapter 1
Copyright
Copyright © 2026 by Summer Shaylie
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in reviews or certain noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Introduction
Jacob Sullivan was Chicago’s favorite hockey player.
Unfortunately, he was also becoming Chicago’s favorite problem.
At twenty-five, Jacob had:
endorsement deals, sold-out arenas, a luxury penthouse downtown, and enough women throwing themselves at him to make his publicist fear for her blood pressure daily.
The city loved him anyway.
Probably because he played hockey like violence was a personality trait and smiled just rarely enough to make women lose common sense entirely.
Depending on the headline that week, Jacob Sullivan was either:
the NHL’s most eligible bachelor, Chicago’s golden boy, or one bad decision away from becoming a full-time PR emergency.
Honestly?
Usually, all three.
But somewhere underneath the cameras, interviews, expensive suits, and constant attention, Jacob had quietly become something far less exciting:
lonely.
Unfortunately for him, his mother noticed.
And during one extravagant winter wedding on the north side of Chicago, Evelyn Sullivan quietly handed a confidential envelope to the city’s most successful matchmaker.
Which probably would’ve gone much smoother if her son had actually known about it.
Chapter One-The Wedding
A year ago, Riley Morgan accidentally fell in love with her client.
Which honestly still sounded professionally inappropriate no matter how happily married she currently was.
Somewhere between sabotaged dates, snowstorms, Target runs, and one emotionally manipulative attorney who looked unfairly attractive making pancakes at nine in the morning, Liam Bennett had somehow gone from: temporary matchmaking disaster
to: husband.
And somehow, after years of helping everyone else find love, Riley had finally ended up with her own.
Now her matchmaking company had exploded across Chicago thanks to social media discovering the story of: wealthy attorney falls helplessly in love with his matchmaker.
Apparently people found that romantic.
Personally, Riley blamed TikTok.
“You’re staring at him again.”
Riley glanced sideways toward Ava standing beside her near the champagne tower.
“I’m literally married to him now,” Riley informed her calmly. “I’m allowed.”
Across the ballroom, Liam stood near the bar talking with several attorneys while absentmindedly loosening his tie. Even from across the crowded room, his eyes found hers instantly like some deeply expensive form of emotional surveillance.
Honestly?
Still a little alarming.
The ballroom glowed beneath crystal chandeliers while soft music drifted through the reception from the live band near the dance floor. Waiters moved through the crowd carrying champagne and tiny desserts Riley still didn’t fully understand while candlelight flickered across towering white floral arrangements near the windows.
Outside, snow fell steadily across downtown Chicago.
Inside smelled like: roses, vanilla candles, champagne, and money.
Just… an overwhelming amount of money.
Liam’s family had approached wedding planning with terrifying commitment.
At one point Riley was fairly certain someone mentioned flying in flowers from Paris and she’d decided not to ask follow-up questions for her own mental health.
“You know what’s upsetting?” Ava muttered beside her.
“What now?”
“He genuinely worships you.”
Riley laughed softly into her champagne.
Because unfortunately…
Ava wasn’t entirely wrong.
Liam Bennett looked at her like she personally invented happiness and mild inconvenience simultaneously.
It was deeply unfair.
“You cried during the vows,” Ava reminded her.
“He quoted my pancake order.”
“He wrote four pages.”
“He practiced them in front of the mirror,” Riley whispered.
Ava gasped dramatically. “That’s disgusting. I love him.”
Before Riley could answer, Liam finally crossed the ballroom toward them, his expression softening almost immediately the second he reached her.
One hand settled automatically against her waist.
Easy. Natural. Warm.
“How’s married life treating you so far?” he asked quietly.
“It’s been approximately three hours.”
“And?”
Riley pretended to think carefully. “I’m considering keeping you.”
Liam smiled slowly before kissing her temple softly enough to make Ava groan beside them.
“Oh my God,” Ava muttered. “You two are becoming emotionally exhausting.”
“Leave then,” Liam suggested calmly.
“I would, but your family is serving miniature grilled cheese sandwiches at midnight.”
“That’s fair.”
Laughter echoed from somewhere near the dance floor while champagne glasses clinked softly through the ballroom around them.
For one quiet second, Riley let herself take everything in.
The warmth. The music. Snow falling outside the windows. Liam standing beside her looking happier than she’d ever seen him.
This was her life now.
And honestly?
That still felt a little surreal.
Then a soft voice interrupted beside them.
“Mrs. Bennett?”
Riley turned.
A woman stood nearby in a sleek black gown, silver-blonde hair swept elegantly back from her face while diamond earrings caught beneath the ballroom lights.
Beautiful. Polished. Controlled.
The kind of woman who looked like she’d never once rushed through an airport carrying emotional damage and iced coffee.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the woman said politely. “Would it be possible to speak with you privately for a moment?”
Ava immediately narrowed her eyes. “If this is a murder situation, I’d just like it noted I’m wearing heels and cannot run effectively.”
The woman blinked once.
Then unexpectedly: the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.
Liam looked between them calmly. “Should I be concerned?”
“Probably,” Ava answered.
Riley laughed softly before setting down her champagne.
“I’ll be right back.”
Liam’s fingers brushed briefly against hers before letting go. “Don’t join any cults without me.”
“No promises.”
The noise from the ballroom softened once the doors closed behind them.
Out in the hallway, the hotel smelled faintly like polished wood, expensive perfume, and winter air drifting in from the lobby downstairs.
The woman turned toward her then.
“My name is Evelyn Sullivan.”
Riley paused slightly.
Sullivan.
Oh.
Chicago hockey Sullivan.
As in: team ownership, luxury suites, sports headlines, and enough money to casually solve national debt.
“I’m an old friend of Caroline Bennett’s,” Evelyn explained gently. “We’ve known each other for years. I couldn’t miss Liam’s wedding.”
That immediately made more sense.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Riley said warmly.
Evelyn studied her quietly for a moment before reaching into her evening bag and pulling out a thick cream-colored envelope.
Immediately Riley’s stomach tightened slightly.
Nothing low-stress had ever arrived inside mysterious envelopes from wealthy strangers.
“I’ve heard wonderful things about your matchmaking company,” Evelyn said.
“That usually means someone’s son is about to become my problem.”
To Riley’s surprise, Evelyn laughed softly.
“Tremendously perceptive.”
Then she handed over the envelope.
“My son needs help.”
Riley glanced down at the front.
Written neatly across the envelope in black ink:
JACOB SULLIVAN.
The name hit instantly.
Professional hockey player. Chicago favorite. Constant sports headlines. Tabloid disaster. And unfortunately…
extremely attractive.
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Evelyn admitted quietly.
That sentence alone felt exhausting already.
Riley opened the envelope carefully.
Inside sat photographs, articles, charity invitations, and one candid image of Jacob Mercer leaving an arena beneath falling snow in a dark hoodie while cameras flashed around him.
Not arrogant.
Not polished.
Just tired.
Interesting.
“He’s surrounded by people constantly,” Evelyn said softly beside her. “And somehow I’ve never seen him lonelier.”
That landed harder than Riley expected.
Somewhere back inside the ballroom, guests erupted into applause loud enough to echo faintly down the hallway.
Probably Liam making another emotional speech.
Riley smiled automatically at the thought before looking back down at the photograph again.
Jacob Sullivan stared back at her from glossy paper looking like a man who either desperately needed therapy…
or was about to become someone else’s problem entirely.
Chapter Two- The Client
Three weeks after returning from her honeymoon in Italy, Riley Bennett sat in her office pretending she was absolutely not secretly researching a professional hockey player during work hours.
Outside the windows, downtown Chicago disappeared beneath gray January skies while snow drifted steadily between buildings. Traffic crawled below in long irritated lines of headlights while someone out on the street leaned on their car horn like it personally solved problems.
Inside the office smelled like coffee, vanilla candles, and the bacon breakfast sandwich Ava had promised not to eat near important paperwork.
Crumbs sat dangerously close to a client file.
“You’re being weird,” Ava announced from across the room.
Riley looked up from her laptop slowly. “I got married. Weird is expected now.”
“No, this is suspicious weird.”
Riley clicked another article open quickly.
Unfortunately Ava noticed immediately.
“…Why are you reading about hockey?”
“Research.”
“You don’t even know icing rules.”
“Neither do hockey players apparently. They spend half the game fighting.”
Ava considered that seriously. “That’s actually a fair point.”
Riley leaned back slightly in her chair, staring down at the article glowing across her screen.
JACOB SULLIVAN.
Twenty-five. Professional hockey player. Chicago obsession. Human PR nightmare according to his mother.
Unfortunately…
the man photographed extremely well.
Every article showed something different.
One photo captured him grinning beside a group of children at a hospital fundraiser.
Another showed him bleeding during a game while fighting another player against the glass hard enough to make sports commentators sound emotionally overwhelmed.
Then there were the tabloids.
JACOB SULLIVAN SPOTTED LEAVING DOWNTOWN CLUB WITH MYSTERY WOMAN
