Nixon: A Raleigh Raptors Novel

by Whiskey, Samantha

  AXEL Chapter One

  “Are you settling in?” I asked my brother as I pulled into the airport. At least it was the smaller, regional airport, so I didn’t have to deal with Stockholm traffic.

  “Stop worrying,” Tage practically growled into the phone, which sent the sound vibrating through my Rover’s speakers.

  The shiny black four-door piece of exquisite machinery was the first “just-because” money I’d spent on myself. Ever.

  “I’m your brother. It’s my job to worry,” I reminded him. That’s all I did when it came to Tage. Worry. How the hell could I not when he’d been my responsibility since I was sixteen?

  “Normal brothers get each other drunk.”

  Normal brothers didn’t lose both their parents in car accidents.

  “Tell me you’re not drinking. You know your coach is going—”

  “Relax, Axel. I’m not drinking. Just giving you hell. I was, however, sleeping off a hellish morning practice.”

  “I still wish you’d enrolled full time at Luleå.” I pulled up to the gate and lowered my window. “Axel Nyström,” I told the guard.

  “Like you did, right?” Tage scoffed.

  “I didn’t have the option, remember? You were eight years old. What was I going to do, move into student housing with you?” I glanced at the dashboard clock. Ten past ten. Lukas was due to land in five minutes.

  “You’re on the list,” the guard noted. “Hangar two.” He directed me through the gate.

  “Thank you,” I told him and then followed his directions, turning right to get to the hangar Lukas’ jet usually parked at when he flew in from the States.

  “Relax,” Tage sighed. “Coach said I could manage a couple of classes. Besides, I’m only looking at a year or two here. Then maybe I can transfer to an American school. From there it’s four years and a college education before I get drafted into the NHL.”

  My heart swelled. “Now that would be something I would whole-heartedly support. I’m so damn proud of you, Tage.”

  “Oh, come on, don’t get all watery,” Tage teased. “Where are you, anyway?”

  “At the airport to pick up Lukas.” Usually I would have told my peacock of a best friend to drive himself from the airport, but he’d never directly asked me to pick him up before.

  “He’s in? Really? I thought he was deep in preparation for the season? I heard that new team is going to be insane. Or at least they will be once they lock down a center—wait…”

  “Don’t go there.” I shook my head even though I knew he couldn’t see me.

  “Oh, come on! You know that’s why he’s coming in. The NHL is calling!” Tage whooped.

  I parked my Rover next to the hangar as Lukas’ jet touched down. “A member of an NHL team is always calling. Don’t look so far into it. Now, get some rest. You’ve got the Nyström name on your jersey, so you’d better do it proud.”

  “Proud enough to pound on you when the season starts.”

  I grinned as Lukas’ jet taxied toward us. “You went to the wrong team if you think you’re going to take me down.”

  “Yeah, yeah. All jabs aside, have fun with Lukas. Relax a little, would you? You’re finally an empty-nester!”

  “Goodbye, Tage.” I hung up on my little brother and climbed out of the Rover as my cell rang again, this time Lukas’ face appearing on the screen. “Why the hell are you calling me from a hundred meters away? I’m literally staring at your damned jet.”

  “Right,” my best friend said slowly. “So about that…”

  I leaned back against the warm hood of my car. “About what?”

  “Have fun and say yes!” He hung up on me as the plane parked.

  I looked down at my phone, blinking a few times in complete confusion. A breeze ripped across me, and I shoved my phone into the back pocket of my pants, then secured my hair with a tie from the pocket of my jacket.

  My sunglasses cut most of the glare from the morning sun as the door opened to Lukas’ jet, then the staff lowered his staircase. Not only was the guy a high-paid NHL star, but he was also a pretty-boy model who now had his own clothing line and the jet to go with it. Good thing I loved the asshole like a brother, or I would have ceaselessly mocked him for the tailored dress clothes. Oh, who was I kidding, I still mocked him.

  But I had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t on that fucking jet.

  It took every muscle in my face to keep my jaw from dropping when she stepped into the doorway.

  No fucking way. I was hallucinating. Had to be.

  I compared the vision walking toward me with my memory.

  Mile-long legs built to wrap around me? Check.

  A waist so small I could almost span it with my hand? Check.

  Curves meant to be tested and stroked by my hands? Check that, too.

  But thinner than I remembered, which gave me a moment of concern as her kitten heels reached the bottom of the staircase. Paler, too.

  She adjusted her jacket, which she’d thrown across her shoulders like some kind of retro movie star, then moved her handbag to her elbow and walked my way, determination in every step of that long, graceful stride.

  Still, maybe this was all a dream, or maybe that woman just looked a lot like—

  She popped her oversized sunglasses on top of her head, right in front of that pile of ebony hair that made my damned palms sweat, and looked at me with big, brown eyes that would have brought me to my knees if I wasn’t using my car as a crutch.

  “Langley Pierce,” I said slowly, sliding my own sunglasses down my nose so I could see her without the filter. There was nothing about this woman that needed one. She was simple, classic, refined perfection.

  “Okay, so can you sign this fucking contract, or what?”

  With the mouth of a sailor.

  I grinned, and she quickly lowered her sunglasses, then folded her arms across her chest. “Nice to see you, too, Langley. Too bad I was expecting Lukas.”

  Her pretty pink lips parted. “I’m sorry?”

  “I. Was. Expecting. Lukas. I know my English isn’t perfect, but I thought that was pretty clear.” I tilted my head as I looked down at her. She was beautifully tall, but at six-six, I still towered over her.

  “He didn’t tell you I was coming?” She spoke every word with the slow, careful deliberation of a publicist. Because that’s exactly what she was. The woman held in her reactions for a living, and as of a couple of months ago, she now worked for the newest team in the NHL, the Carolina Reapers.

  “Nope.” I shook my head.

  I watched her mentally compose herself in the tiny adjustments of her hands, the gentle shift of her weight.

  “Ms. Pierce?” A staff member brought her single suitcase forward.

  “Thank you so very much, Michael. It was a lovely flight.” She smiled at the guy, and my brows drew together.

  Where the hell was my smile?

  “It’s always a pleasure, Ms. Pierce. You just let us know when you’re ready to head back, and we’ll be here. Well, in a hotel, but you get the picture.”

  She thanked him and then stared up at me as he walked away.

  “You have no clue why I’m here, do you?” she asked with a sigh.

  “My guess would be it has something to do with a contract for fucking.” I walked past her to grab her suitcase.

  “I did not say that!” she snapped.

  “I did miss that temper of yours,” I told her with a smile as I walked her suitcase to the back of my Rover and popped the hatch on the trunk. A moment later I had her suitcase secured and the trunk closed.

  “You really don’t know, do you?” she asked again, this time softly.

  Everything in Langley’s world was orderly, controlled, proper, and measured. Something like the little stunt Lukas had just played on us both was going to send her type A personality into type AAA.

  “I don’t,” I answered equally as soft. “Why don’t you get in?”

  “You don’t even know
where I’m going. You don’t even know why I’m here.” She opened the back door of the Rover and threw her jacket in, leaving her sculpted shoulders bare in a sleeveless silk blouse over tailored trousers.

  “Leave it to you to fly halfway around the world and still look like a million bucks.”

  Her face jerked toward mine, but the glasses obscured her reaction.

  “I have no clue where you’re going, but I’ll take you there,” I continued.

  “Lukas said I could stay at his place.” She licked her lips nervously.

  “Did he?” I asked with a grin.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m at Lukas’ house while my floors are being refinished,” I told her with a laugh. This was going to get interesting real fast.

  She sucked in one deep breath, then another, before throwing her head back. “Damn you, Lukas Vestergaard!” she yelled.

  God, I loved it when she lost control.

  Forty-five minutes later, I scooped a helping of raspberries onto my plate and one onto Langley’s. Then I took both plates into the dining room where I already had drinks waiting, and sat.

  “Sorry!” Langley called as she rushed into the room, strands of her hair slipping free of her knot, softening the style. “I was busy screaming at Lukas.”

  “I heard,” I said, motioning to the chair cornered to mine. “Sit and eat.”

  She stilled, a manila envelope in her hand. “You cooked? For me?” She eyed the pancakes with wide eyes.

  “I did,” I admitted. “Now sit and eat. Then we can discuss what put you on a plane.” I pushed my thermal’s sleeves up past my elbows as she sat, her back ramrod straight.

  “Thank you,” she said, sliding the envelope in front of her plate and picking up her fork.

  “You’re welcome.” Huh. Guess we could be civil, even if it was awkward as hell.

  “Ohmygawdthesearegood,” she moaned after her first bite.

  And now my pants were too tight.

  I called it the Langley Effect: she walked in, I got hard. Fact of life.

  “So, tell me why you’re here,” I said before I did something stupid, like make her really moan.

  “Contract offer,” she said, nudging the folder in my direction before taking another bite.

  Watching her eat was up there with the most erotic things I’d ever seen...and I’d seen a lot.

  “Unless that’s a contract for your hand in marriage, I’m not interested.” I didn’t bother looking at the envelope before digging into my own lunch.

  She swallowed and then shot me a serious WTF face. “A contract for my what? Get serious, Axel. The Carolina Reapers want you.”

  “The Reapers need me. There’s a difference. I’m not interested.” I shrugged. My home was in Sweden, and the only thing on the planet that could make me leave sure as hell wasn’t in that damned envelope. I shoveled in the rest of my lunch while she stared at me.

  “You’re not interested? In an NHL contract?” Her eyes widened.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time I turned one down.” I stood and took my dishes.

  “What? Are you serious?”

  “Langley, did you honestly think you were going to waltz in here, dazzle me with that smile as usual, then get me to sign my life over to an American team?”

  She blinked up at me as if realizing for the first time that this wasn’t going to be as easy as she first thought. “Yes, but not exactly. I figured the numbers would dazzle you.”

  “There’s nothing in that envelope that interests me.”

  I left her sputtering, and walked away.

  * * *

  I ruffled the hair on Viktor’s head as we made it to the parking lot the next day. He waved and ran off to his mother, and I waved once he reached her.

  “He’s a good kid. They all are,” I said to Langley as we made our way to the car. She’d just spent the last two hours watching me teach my clinic for the youth, alternating between working on her laptop and making calls in the stands.

  I’d already pulled a preseason practice with my own team this morning, listening to my coach give every reason under the sun to sign another contract and give up the free-agent gig. Seemed like everyone wanted me to sign something lately.

  “You do wonderful work with those kids,” she admitted.

  “It’s one of the reasons I’m happy here.” I threw my gear in the back of the car, then got behind the wheel as Langley took the passenger seat.

  “I did some research,” she admitted as we pulled onto the road, headed for home.

  “And what did it tell you?”

  “That you turned down a ten-million-dollar contract ten years ago.” She had the advantage, looking straight at me while I kept my eyes on the road.

  “By research you mean you talked to Lukas.” I glanced her way long enough to see her cheeks tinge pink.

  “He said you turned it down because you were raising your little brother, Tage.” She let that hang between us, leaving it up to me to confirm or deny.

  The freedom was why I chose to tell her.

  “Our parents died in a car accident when I was sixteen, and we lived with my grandmother, but basically I was responsible for Tage. Two years later, Grandmother died, too, and it was just the two of us—Tage and me. Couldn’t exactly raise an eight-year-old and play in the NHL. That wasn’t what our parents wanted for him or what he needed.” My hands gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white.

  Looking back, it was the only decision I could have made, but living through it had felt like ripping my soul in two. The life I wanted and the life I was meant to have simply weren’t the same.

  “But he’s grown now, right?” she asked gently.

  “Eighteen and on his own SHL team up north,” I agreed.

  “Then come play for the Reapers. I don’t need to tell you how good you are, or how badly we need you at center.”

  “That’s because McPherson and the Billionaire built a team around exceptional players, but forgot they needed a lynchpin.” I threw her a glance. “I read the news, Langley.”

  “So come be our lynchpin,” she pled.

  “You know why they sent you, right? You, Langley, a publicist. Not an owner, a coach, or an agent.” I questioned, turning onto the road that led to Lukas’. The sun glinted off the Gulf of Bothnia, making the water shine.

  “Because they know you like me,” she admitted in a whisper. “You wouldn’t speak to anyone else.”

  “Because I want you. How could you let them use you like that?”

  She looked away, her hands fisting in her lap. “Because I want to keep my job. If getting you to sign that contract means I keep my job, then fine. I’ll fly to Sweden.”

  “And those are the only circumstances I can be alone with you? You’d only be sitting here with me if your job was on the line?” Ire dripped into my tone, and I shook my head.

  “No,” she whispered. “Fine, yes. You’re…” She sighed.

  “I’m what?” I challenged.

  “You’re too much...everything. Too big. Too fast. Too hot.” She shook her finger in my direction. “Don’t even play that you don’t know you’re gorgeous.”

  “I figured you were immune to looks after working with the Sharks and now the Reapers.” She’d left the Seattle team and the Seattle fiancé.

  “It’s impossible to be immune to someone your size, Axel. You take up all the air in the car.” She folded her arms across her chest, and I almost laughed at how annoyed she looked.

  “How are things going with the ex-fiancé?” I prodded.

  She slowly turned her head to glare at me, and I thanked God that we were minutes away from Lukas’, because she might really kill me. “He is not up for discussion.”

  “Then neither is that contract.”

  “I’m sorry? That’s personal!” she snapped.

  “And you asking me to uproot my entire life to move to the United States isn’t?”

  Her teeth clicked as she
closed her mouth.

  As much as she loved her job, it wasn’t helping her heal. She’d been here a year ago when that asshole made her choose between her job or his love, and she’d rightfully chosen herself. Except she hadn’t really followed through.

  She was thinner, paler, and unhappy. The light in her eyes had dimmed, and even her small snaps of temper lacked the fire she’d had last year. She needed someone to push her out of her little workplace comfort zone.

  “Sign the contract, Axel, and let me go home.”

  “No.” Because neither of those options appealed to me, and they wouldn’t help her, either.

  * * *

  I walked in from practice the next day to find Langley in downward facing dog. Aka, here’s my ass, isn’t it lovely?

  She had a truly amazing ass. Hell, everything on the woman was perfect from her head to her toes. What could have possibly been so great about her ex’s job that he was willing to lose her for it? Careers came and went. The love of a woman like Langley? That’s the shit you held onto at night when you were both old and crinkle-eyed.

  “You’re home!” She popped up to stand, her ponytail swishing behind her.

  “I am,” I admitted, then stalked to Lukas’ ultra-modern kitchen for the coldest bottle of water I could find. I was mid-chug when she walked in, braced her hands on the counter and then jumped so she sat on the hard granite surface.

  Her sports bra did the impossible, lifting and curving around her breasts. Weren’t those things supposed to flatten her out and keep my dick limp?

  Not a limp dick in sight, that was for sure.

  She stretched, drawing my eyes to the toned muscles of her stomach, gently lined, but not overly muscular. Langley was soft in every place that screamed to be touched.

  I needed to keep my damned hands to myself.

  “So are you dating yet?” I asked, coming to stand next to her.

  She raised a flirtatious eyebrow. “You know that could be seen as sexual harassment.”

  “What you’re wearing is sexual harassment,” I muttered.