Sweet Hearts (The Lindstroms Book 3)

by Katy Paige

  Finally she pulled back, panting, and rested her forehead against his. She loosened her legs from around him, and his hands slid to her hips then her waist as her feet touched the ground. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as possible. Her cheek rested on his chest, over his heart, and Erik could feel her breathing, ragged and heavy, as his hands relaxed, resting on her back.

  He had kissed her blindly, madly, deeply, lost in her, reveling in the feeling of her body wrapped around his and when he drew back, he only had one thought: being with Katrin—holding her, kissing her, touching her—is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. She leaned away, looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and a surprised, dreamy smile. He put his hands gently on either side of her jaw and lowered his lips to hers again softly, a feather, a caress, a promise.

  “Erik…” she breathed, eyes closed.

  “’Night, Ӓlskling.” He touched his lips to the tip of her nose and then drew back, walking back to his car.

  He looked back up at her before he opened his door.

  One more look.

  She stood on the top step, fingers lightly touching her lips as he drove away.

  ENTR’ACT

  Wow.

  –Ӓ

  ***

  Wow is right.

  –M

  ***

  Morning, Ӓlskling.

  Woke up feeling fine, then realized I agreed to have dinner with José on Sunday.

  –M

  PS, Glad I came back last night.

  ***

  And here I thought you were MY date!

  How very modern of you to date us both.

  –Ӓ

  PS, Me too.

  ***

  Where are we going for dinner?

  Maybe I will borrow some groovy threads from my landlord.

  –M

  ***

  How can it only be Wednesday?

  The Mountain Lake Lodge.

  Groovy threads optional.

  –Ӓ

  ***

  I heard from Ing.

  She said you sounded “really great.”

  Did you tell her anything?

  –M

  ***

  What exactly would I tell her, Erik?

  –Ӓ

  ***

  I don’t know.

  Girls talk.

  You tell me.

  –M

  ***

  I told her we’ve chosen china patterns and named our firstborn.

  She was surprised but pleased.

  –Ӓ

  PS, Of course I didn’t say anything. You are a jackass, Minste.

  ***

  Ӓlskling?

  –M

  ***

  Katrin?

  –M

  ***

  Okay.

  I am a jackass.

  –M

  ***

  Honesty is a tonic for the soul.

  See you tomorrow.

  Mountain Lake Lodge.

  Terra Ristorante.

  7:00pm.

  –Ӓ

  ***

  Let me pick you up at 5:30pm.

  They can meet us there.

  Söta drömmar, Ӓlskling.

  –M

  Chapter 10

  It had been a very long time since Katrin Svenson dressed up. In fact, the last time she had really dressed up with a purpose, she wore a wedding dress. But, after months and months of grubby sweats, occasional nurse scrubs and a few weeks of jeans and t-shirts, she was actually excited to dress up…well, specifically she was excited to dress up for Erik.

  For as cute and sophisticated as she found Skidoo Bay in general, stores for ladies’ apparel weren’t plentiful and if she really wanted something special for dinner on Sunday, she was going to have to bite the bullet and walk into the only real dress shop in town: J Jones Couture Wedding Boutique. Finally mustering her courage, she beelined with precision for the sale rack of short cocktail-length bridesmaid dresses in the back, hoping to avoid a well-intentioned sales associate intent on selling a white gown to her when she had zero interest in ever buying a wedding dress again, as long as she lived.

  In the end, there was nothing to fear. A sixteen-year-old girl sat behind the cash register, chewing gum and flipping through People magazine, totally oblivious to Katrin shopping. She left the store pleased with her purchase: a dark brown, knee-length, sleeveless dress in simple satin with a bandeau neckline and a simple cream-colored band at the waist. It didn’t look like a bridesmaid dress at all, and she had the perfect pair of cream, patented leather, peep-toe, kitten-heel shoes to wear with it—shoes she’d bought on a whim at the Payless in Great Falls after seeing Princess Kate wearing the same ones.

  She hung the dress carefully in her closet, and it waited there for her until today, ready to wow Erik Lindstrom when he picked her up later. She looked at her fingernails, barely growing out now after months of neglect and decided to treat herself to a manicure too. She called the Skidoo Bay Beauty Shop and arranged for a wash, cut and blow dry, manicure and pedicure, then smiled in anticipation, excited to get all dolled up for a date. A real date.

  She tried to think of the last time Wade took her anywhere that required she dress up, but she was at a loss, thinking all the way back to the senior prom. She and her mother had gone shopping for a dress and shoes at the mall in Great Falls, only to be disappointed when a very drunk Wade practically rolled out of the limo onto her front lawn. He’d lain there laughing his head off, then turned his head to the side and vomited on the grass. They eventually made it to the prom, but Katrin had been furious with him and broke up with him the next day. It was the first of three or four times that she would break up with him before her father died, before she slept with him and feared, a few weeks later, that she was pregnant.

  Losing that pregnancy had been a sad, mixed blessing.

  Wade had already “done the right thing” in proposing and assuaged her guilt over having pre-marital sex. But, truthfully, she had never felt good about bringing a baby into such a tumultuous relationship. Plus, they were so young, and as much as Katrin wanted children one day, she knew she wasn’t ready to be a parent yet.

  She should have broken off the engagement after the miscarriage, but she was mourning her father, and the baby, too, and she felt like she needed Wade more than ever, imperfect though he was. In his own unreliable, haphazard way, having him in her life was comforting to her then, and her belief in his love for her had carried her through some very dark days. No matter what he had done later, she would always feel a small, certain gratitude for that.

  That said, however, the most recent news about Wade from Ingrid was troubling.

  He had shown up at Kris and Ingrid’s house hollering incoherently about Katrin and horses and all manner of nonsense at three o’clock in the morning on Tuesday, stumbling around their front yard, making no sense at all. Katrin had never owned a horse, nor was horseback riding something they had in common.

  Ingrid and Kristian had warned Wade two weeks before that a second occurrence would result in arrest and they were as good as their promise. The police were called, Wade was arrested, they pressed charges for harassment, and filed a restraining order that prohibited Wade from coming within a certain number of feet of their house. The police added the additional public intoxication charge, which all added up to Wade being in a whole lot of trouble.

  It had also gotten Katrin in trouble when her brother and Ingrid discovered that she’d never filed the restraining order as she’d claimed. While Ingrid clucked disapprovingly over the phone, Katrin reminded her that the move to Skidoo was protecting her far more than any restraining order could have. Not to mention, if she’d filed one, she’d have a court date looming over her head and frankly, the idea of facing Wade in court made her shudder. The less contact she had with Wade, the better.

  Somewhat mollified, Ingrid had shared that Wade was held for seventy-two hours before his
parents had arranged his bail and he was released on Saturday morning. No surprise there. The Doyles were good people, but they wore blinders, always holding out hope that Wade would suddenly get his act together. Ing went on to say that it would be a couple of weeks until his arraignment. She assured Katrin that everything was under control and that she shouldn’t worry.

  “Kat, it’s about time one of us had his ass hauled into jail. Enough is enough.”

  “I was hoping it wouldn’t have to come to that. I hope it doesn’t get worse when he gets out, Ing.”

  “Well, he better not come around here, or he’ll be in violation of the restraining order, and that’s serious. Even more serious is how much Kris wants to kick his ass into next week.”

  Ing had called back yesterday afternoon with more news. Wade and his parents had stopped by Ingrid and Kristian’s house on Saturday afternoon. Ing said that Wade was in poor shape, but he had apologized for Tuesday’s outburst, if somewhat belligerently, his mother actually prodding him in the back to say the words.

  “Sorry for bothering you,” he had muttered.

  “Wade’s real sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Svenson,” Mrs. Doyle had assured Ingrid and Kristian. “He went hunting up north last Sunday and came back in a terrible mood. But, he’s all fine now, aren’t you, Wade? Hasn’t drunk a drop in three days. We were wondering…if Wade agreed to go down to the rehab center in Great Falls, would you consider dropping the charges?”

  Ingrid had asked Katrin her feelings on the matter.

  “Oh, Ing, if he’d get help, I think that would be the best thing of all, don’t you?”

  “Starting to feel like this intervention stuff may be my calling,” Ingrid had joked dryly, before hanging up.

  Ingrid and Kristian had agreed with the plan for Wade’s treatment. They told the Doyles that as long as they could prove that Wade had entered a sixty-day licensed program, they would drop the charges against him and desist with the restraining order. That still left the county’s public intoxication charge, but unlike the harassment charge or the record of a restraining order, it was only a misdemeanor that wouldn’t affect Wade’s permanent record or chances to restart his teaching career.

  Katrin spoke to Ingrid one final time this morning and was relieved to hear that the judge had agreed to the dropped charges. Wade would enter the rehab facility on Monday morning for a two-month program. Katrin was pleased that Wade would get treatment and she hoped that he would be able to get his life back on track. It also alleviated her general worries for her family, so she felt light and happy this Sunday morning looking forward to church, lunch, an afternoon of beauty, and an evening with Erik.

  A knock on the bedroom door scattered her thoughts, and she jumped up to find Gabrielle standing outside her door.

  “Dumplin’, you comin’ to church?”

  She nodded, following her friend down the stairs and out the front door into the sunshine.

  This morning, everything felt possible.

  ***

  “So, dumplin’…”

  Katrin and Gabrielle sat across from each other at Amazing Crepes after church, sipping good French coffee, and waiting for their sweet treats: a dark chocolate and strawberry crepe for Katrin and an apple and cinnamon crepe for Gabrielle.

  “Tell me ‘bout de bredda comin’ to dinner tonight.”

  Katrin had learned that every man, brother or no, was “bredda” to Gabrielle.

  “He’s…sort of a family friend.” She smiled, stirring her coffee.

  “Oh, dumplin’.” Gabrielle’s dark brown eyes flashed with humor, watching Katrin’s face soften. “Friend you say? No. Your face say different. You in ag-on-y?”

  Katrin shook her head at her friend, grinning. “What’s that mean? Do I even want to know?”

  “Oh, you know. De agony. Like de ecstasy.” Gabrielle smiled and raised her eyebrows suggestively, wiggling her hips.

  “Paca!” Katrin’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, no. We haven’t, um, done that.”

  “Why not? I seen him. I seen you both last Sunday, dumplin’. That’s not jus’ some friend who’s comin’ to see you. Drivin’ his car up in here. You ago jump him like one monkey.”

  “You were watching!” Katrin tsked her friend, turning red at that thought that she and Erik had an unexpected audience during their kiss last Sunday night. “I don’t know. He’s not one for making promises, and I like a commitment. I’m trying to figure it out.”

  “You like him? Ah, yes, you like him. I see it all over your face.” She poured more sugar into her coffee, and her bracelets jangled merrily.

  “I like him.” Katrin nodded, then confided softly: “I like him so much. I’m falling hard. So much harder than...” She let her words trail off, and shook her head at her friend. “…I should.”

  “Should! He like you too, comin’ here every Sunday. Why you worry, dumplin’?”

  “It’s complicated. Our families are totally intertwined. His childhood friend Ingrid is my brother’s wife. My cousin Sam is his sister’s husband. If things got messy, it’d be bad, Paca. Anyway, he says he doesn’t want anything serious. He’s never had a long-term girlfriend. He doesn’t like commitment. He doesn’t want any emotional entanglements.” She shook her head ruefully. “But I…I love being with someone, and I feel so safe when I’m with him, like I can be myself, and I don’t feel worried. I can’t get him out of my head, but I don’t actually know if there’s any hope.”

  “Dumplin’, I tell you true: every man alive think he don’t want forever. Jesas christ, a she mi affi marry? An’ carry roun’ like ball and chain. But, truss me, a true. They say that until they meet di here girl. Then? Everything cook and curry.” She beamed at Katrin, perfect long, red-lacquered fingernails splayed open as if to say “Voila!”

  “You think so?”

  “You just give him time. Sooner later, he see it too. Nuh worry ‘bout it, dumplin’. He will see it too.”

  ***

  Erik looked up the Mountain Lake Lodge on the internet to see what sort of place he was headed to this evening, and was surprised to see it wasn’t just nice. It was really nice. It was Sunday clothes nice. Checking his closet, he chose the simple navy suit he mostly saved for weddings and funerals, coupled with a light blue dress shirt. He stared at his three ties: one with Santa Claus, one purple with gold Vikings helmets, and a red-and-blue-striped number that served for any occasion that wasn’t Christmas or the Sunday after a Vikings victory at the Super Bowl. He closed the closet and left the ties. The suit was enough.

  He took his black dress shoes out of his closet to shine them, thinking of seeing Katrin tonight.

  During their week apart he’d had to admit to himself that the feelings he had for her went beyond just wanting to sleep with her. He certainly wanted to sleep with her, but he cared about her regardless of whether or not that actually happened. Ever since that first meeting in her brother’s house, she’d had a certain hold on him, and there was no use fighting it anymore. She was different from any other girl he’d ever met: strong, but soft. Hopeful, after everything she’d been through. Funny, well-read, interesting, beautiful. The way she looked at him melted his insides, made him feel like a god. So, okay. He had feelings for Katrin Svenson.

  But, feelings or not, he was still not comfortable with the idea of being in a relationship. Not with her. Not with anyone. He didn’t want to leave his heart open like that, and he didn’t want to be responsible for hers, because, as she had correctly guessed, it scared him to death. Getting hurt, hurting her. It was all so damn messy.

  That said, he wouldn’t be able to stand seeing her with someone else. Last Sunday, when he’d jumped to conclusions about her going out with José, he’d felt how visceral, how agonizing, it would be to lose her. Which left a pretty frustrating conundrum: He didn’t want to be her boyfriend, but he didn’t want her to be with anyone else either.

  Frustrated. There were no good answers, and with them both heading home for Midsom
mardagen in two weeks, he knew she’d want the dreaded “status” conversation that always started with those terrible, awful five words that he hated more than any others: “Erik, we need to talk.” He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to have that talk. He liked her, very much, but having feelings for her was bad enough; commitment and labels were daunting, impossible.

  Damn Midsommardagen anyway! If they didn’t have to go home, they could just keep hanging out up in Kalispell, hidden from the prying eyes of their families, taking things one step at a time without the formality of labels. It would just add pressure to their situation and—he felt sure—would ruin the delicate simplicity of things between them.

  He buffed one shoe and then the other, considering the situation as the brush whooshed back and forth across the stiff black leather.

  Maybe they could suspend things during Midsommardagen, just until they got back north. Just act like friends in front of their families then pick things up when they got home. Sure. Why couldn’t they do that? They didn’t owe anyone explanations. They didn’t need to announce they were dating or boyfriend and girlfriend or in a relationship, all terms and conditions that made him genuinely shudder, and would complicate the family reunion.

  They could promise not to touch each other, not to look for each other, not to give away their growing feelings. Keep their—whatever it was—private. Not a secret, per se, but private. It wasn’t anyone’s business but theirs, anyway, right? Maybe they could just act like nothing had happened between them. Nothing at all.

  ***

  Katrin was still in her room getting ready when she heard the knock at the door downstairs. She stuck her head out of her room. “Paca! Can you let him in?”

  Gabrielle peeked into Katrin’s room and beamed at her approvingly.

  “Cooyah, dumplin’!” Then, flicking her eyes to the stairs where Erik waited. “De poor lamb.”