Chapter 1
Willa Carter had been used to a thousand different things in her life.
Being the daughter of a biker meant getting used to everything.
The sound of a motorcycle engine roaring down the street.
The smell of gasoline and leather that seemed permanently embedded into her childhood.
The possibility of losing people she loved.
The knowledge that a beauty qualification would never be good enough in her father’s eyes.
The uncomfortable certainty that the music industry might one day defeat her before she ever got the chance to prove herself.
She had gotten used to all of it.
It didn’t mean she liked any of it.
It just meant she knew how to survive it.
The Bluebird sat apart from the rest of Havenport.
The little music venue had always felt like its own world, tucked away from the busy streets and the harbor traffic. It was small, intimate, and old enough that the wooden floorboards creaked beneath every pair of shoes.
It was where everything had started.
The first time Willa had ever sung in front of someone who wasn’t herself.
The first time she’d stood beneath a spotlight with her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold the microphone.
The first time she’d wondered if maybe—just maybe—she could actually make music work.
The Rusty Anchor was different.
The Rusty Anchor was home.
It was where the Iron Wolves gathered.
Where her father and his friends had spent years drinking whiskey, arguing about motorcycles, and occasionally getting into trouble.
It was the place Willa had grown up around.
She knew which table Callum preferred.
Which regulars liked their drinks stronger.
Which bikers pretended they didn’t have a sweet tooth but somehow always found their way toward the desserts.
She knew the place so well that she could probably work an entire shift with her eyes closed.
Which was exactly what she had been doing tonight.
Or at least trying to.
Willa was halfway through putting a row of clean beer glasses away when she heard her father’s voice behind her.
She wasn’t really listening.
Not at first.
She had learned years ago that listening to conversations between her father and the other Iron Wolves often resulted in information she didn’t particularly need to know.
Motorcycle repairs.
Club business.
Someone owing someone else money.
Football.
Occasionally an argument about whether Callum had gotten too old to ride as aggressively as he did.
So she kept working.
Until she heard the words.
She stopped.
The glass in her hand remained suspended halfway between the tray and the shelf.
Slowly, Willa turned around.
Her father was standing behind the bar.
She stared at him.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Callum looked at her.
Willa slowly lowered the glass.
“Can you repeat what you just said?”
Callum didn’t move.
Willa walked toward him.
“Because I’m pretty sure I just heard you say something completely insane.”
Callum sighed.
“I said it’s done.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“You heard me.”
“I heard you say something completely insane.”
“Willa.”
“You forced my signature on my marriage certificate?”
Callum nodded.
Willa stared at him.
Silence.
Then—
“Okay.”
She nodded slowly.
“Whoa.”
She lifted one hand.
“Hold on. Just go back a little because I’m very confused right now.”
“You need to toughen up.”
“Dad, telling your daughter she needs to toughen up and telling her you forced her signature onto a legally binding document are two completely different conversations.”
“You’re overreacting.”
Willa stared at him.
Then at the whiskey in his hand.
Then back at him.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
Callum raised one eyebrow.
“You’ve been saying that since you were seventeen.”
“And apparently I was right.”
She turned away from him and started pacing.
The clubhouse was unusually quiet tonight.
Normally, The Rusty Anchor was packed whenever the club met.
Men wearing leather vests occupied half the tables. Whiskey bottles appeared from nowhere. Someone was always arguing about football, motorcycles, or something else that would eventually end with Callum telling everyone to shut the hell up.
Tonight, most of them had cleared out.
Which meant her father had planned this.
That realization made her stomach drop.
She turned around.
“You planned this.”
“Yes.”
“You and who?”
Callum didn’t answer.
Willa stopped.
“Who?”
He took another sip of whiskey.
“Rhett.”
Her eyes widened.
“Rhett Maddox?”
Callum nodded.
“The same Uncle Rhett who used to let me sit on his motorcycle when I was little?”
Another nod.
“The same Uncle Rhett whose wife always snuck cookies to me because you wouldn’t let me have them before dinner?”
“Mae.”
“Yes, Mae.”
Callum’s mouth twitched.
Willa pointed at him.
“Don’t smile.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t.”
“You absolutely did.”
She folded her arms.
“What does Rhett have to do with this?”
“You’re going to meet him.”
Her anger faltered.
“What?”
“Rhett.”
“I heard his name.”
“He’s coming.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Willa stared at him.
“No.”
Callum reached for the whiskey bottle.
Willa grabbed it before he could pour another drink.
He looked at her hand.
Then at her.
“You are not drinking your way through this conversation.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You were thinking it.”
“I was thinking you’ve apparently lost every ounce of common sense you ever had.”
Callum held out his hand.
“Give me the bottle.”
“No.”
“Willa.”
“No.”
She put the bottle behind her back.
Callum looked at her for a long second.
Then he sighed.
“Fine.”
Willa narrowed her eyes.
That was too easy.
She knew her father.
Nothing with Callum Carter was ever that easy.
Then the thought crossed her mind.
Her expression fell.
Callum saw it immediately.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
She took a step backward.
Her hands went to her hair.
“If you tell me I’m suddenly married to Grayson Maddox, I’m shooting you.”
Callum scoffed.
“Please. You can’t even hold a gun.”
“And?”
“And yes, you are.”
Willa’s mouth fell open.
“Grayson Maddox?”
Callum nodded.
She laughed.
It wasn’t a happy laugh.
It was the kind of laugh people made when something was so ridiculous that their brain hadn’t decided whether to cry or scream yet.
“The hockey player?”
“Yes.”
“The Havenport Wolves captain?”
“Yes.”
“The guy who’s always getting suspended?”
Callum’s mouth twitched.
“Occasionally.”
“Occasionally?”
Willa stared at him.
“Dad, I watch hockey. I’ve seen the man fight.”
“He fights.”
“That’s your defense?”
“He wins.”
“Oh my God.”
She put both hands over her face.
Grayson Maddox.
Of all the men in Massachusetts.
Grayson Maddox.
Six-foot-something of muscle, tattoos, hockey gear, bad decisions, and newspaper headlines.
She had seen him on television.
Everyone had.
He was the Havenport Wolves’ captain.
Number twenty-seven.
A defenseman who played like someone had personally offended him every time he stepped onto the ice.
He was known for his temper.
His fighting.
His reputation with women.
His ability to collect suspensions almost as efficiently as he collected goals and assists.
And apparently—
Apparently—
her father had decided that man was husband material.
She dropped her hands.
“You cannot be serious.”
“I am. Rhett wants Grayson to settle down,” he said. “He’s tired of the fights. The suspensions. The women. The headlines.”
“Sounds like a personal problem.”
“He needs stability.”
“So he can find a wife? I strongly doubt Grayson is going to be a fan of it.”
“And he could help toughen you up,” Callum said.
“For all I fucking know Grayson isn’t even interested in half of this. He’s fucking a new girl every week, Dad, and he’s more suspended from games than he’s actually playing. And that’s the man you think will be good for me?” Willa asked.
Callum ignored her.
“Why? You know what, I don’t wanna know. I need air,” Willa said as she went outside.
The autumn air hadn’t been cold yet, but it was cooling down from the boiling temperatures that they always had. In that exact moment, Willa felt like she could place herself in front of a moving motorbike so she could get run over.
“Fucking hell,” she murmured.
She couldn’t believe it.
And to make it worse, her father told her it was all done with.
She stood there for a few seconds, staring across the parking lot.
Her hands were shaking.
Not badly.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But she noticed.
She always noticed.
She wrapped her arms around herself and took a slow breath.
This couldn’t be happening.
Not really.
Maybe she’d misunderstood him.
Maybe this was some ridiculous joke between Callum and Rhett.
Maybe Grayson Maddox had already told them both to go to hell.
That thought gave her a tiny amount of hope.
Because there was no way a man like Grayson Maddox wanted this either.
She had seen him.
Everyone had.
He was always on the news for something.
A fight.
A suspension.
A stupid comment to a reporter.
A new woman photographed leaving a bar with him.
Another headline.
Another story.
Another reason for Willa to know that the man her father had apparently chosen for her was absolutely nothing like her.
She liked quiet.
He liked chaos.
She hated confrontation.
He seemed to collect it.
She spent most of her life trying to avoid attention.
He lived underneath it.
And somehow, her father had looked at both of them and thought—
Perfect.
Willa let out a humorless laugh.
“Of course.”
She dragged a hand through her hair.
She could already hear Callum’s voice in her head.
You need to toughen up.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe she did.
But marrying Grayson Maddox wasn’t exactly how she’d planned to learn.
The front door opened behind her.
Willa turned.
Callum stood in the doorway.
She immediately shook her head.
“Don’t.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“You were.”
He stepped outside.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Callum leaned against the doorframe.
“You’re going to meet him.”
Willa stared at him.
“No.”
“Eventually.”
“No.”
“Willa.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I know.”
“Then stop acting like this is happening.”
Callum looked at her.
“It might.”
Her stomach dropped again.
She hated those two words.
Might.
Because they left room for hope.
And somehow that was worse.
She looked away.
“Does he know?”
“Yes.”
That caught her attention.
She turned back.
“He knows?”
Callum nodded.
“Rhett told him.”
“And?”
“He hasn’t said no.”
Willa stared at him.
“That isn’t a yes.”
“No.”
“So he’s just as trapped as I am.”
Callum didn’t answer.
She laughed bitterly.
“Great.”
She looked toward the darkening sky.
“That’s just great.”
Callum’s voice softened.
“Go home.”
Willa looked at him.
“You’re letting me leave?”
“For tonight.”
She nodded.
“Good.”
“You’ll talk to Rhett tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
“And eventually, you’ll talk to Grayson.”
Willa sighed.
“I really don’t want to.”
“I know.”
She looked back toward the bar.
Then at her father.
“I’m not marrying him.”
Callum didn’t argue.
“Maybe not.”
Willa narrowed her eyes.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you should meet him before you decide.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I already decided.”
Callum’s mouth twitched.
“You’ve decided you hate a man you’ve never met.”
“I’ve watched him play hockey.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“I’ve seen enough.”
“You haven’t.”
Willa groaned.
“Goodnight, Dad.”
“Drive safe.”
She turned toward her car.
Then stopped.
She looked back at him.
“Dad?”
“What?”
“If this goes horribly wrong, I’m blaming you.”
Callum nodded.
“Fair.”
Willa shook her head.
“Unbelievable.”
She got into her car.
And as she drove away from The Rusty Anchor, one thought kept circling through her mind.
She was supposed to be building a life of her own.
Not marrying a hockey player her father had picked for her.
Not becoming someone’s solution.
Not becoming someone’s stability.
Her life was supposed to belong to her.
And yet, somehow, it suddenly belonged to a man she’d never even met.
Grayson Maddox.
Willa tightened her hands around the steering wheel.
“Absolutely fucking not.”
She drove into the night.
The harbor lights shimmered in the distance, reflecting against the dark water. The familiar streets of Havenport passed around her, but none of them felt familiar anymore.
Everything had changed.
Or maybe it hadn’t.
Maybe the only thing that had changed was the fact that she now knew what her father had been planning behind her back.
She thought about The Bluebird.
The little stage.
The microphone.
The songs she’d written alone in her apartment.
The dreams she’d been too afraid to say out loud.
That was the life she wanted.
A life where she got to decide what happened next.
A life where she didn’t have someone else choosing her future for her.
She wasn’t going to let this arrangement take that away.
Tomorrow, she’d talk to Rhett.
She’d hear what he had to say.
And then she’d make her own decision.
Because whatever Callum believed—
Whatever Rhett believed—
Whatever Grayson Maddox wanted—
This was still her life.
And she was going to have a say in it.
Even if she had to fight for it.
For now, though, Willa had only one thing she was certain of.
She was not ready to meet Grayson Maddox.
And thankfully, she didn’t have to.
Not tonight.
End of Chapter 1.
