“—but if I get a speeding ticket, you’re paying for it out of that grand Dad just gave you.”
She laughed. “Deal.”
Lennox didn’t ask any more questions. It helped that he got a phone call from Cooper, his roommate who worked at the same gym as a personal trainer. Lennox and Cooper were planning to open their own fitness center, so they had been working on a business plan and seeking investors.
They were still talking shop when Lennox swung into the parking lot of the Rebels’ practice facility. Some of the players were just leaving, carrying hockey bags branded with the team’s logo.
Lennox parked in front of the arena and pulled the phone away from his ear to say to Scarlett, “Hurry up so you won’t miss your flight. The airport’s not exactly close.”
“Yes, big brother.” Scarlett hopped out of the car, closed the door and strode quickly toward the front entrance.
Reid, Hunter and Logan walked out of the arena, joking around as they headed in her direction. It was like coming face to face with a wall of pure testosterone. All those stubble-darkened jaws, thick muscles bulging under their shirts, deep voices blended in masculine laughter. They were all massive, more than six feet of hockey-playing hunkiness.
Was it any wonder that she felt a little lightheaded when they saw her and flashed those panty-dropping smiles?
“Hey, what’s up, Scarlett?”
“Hey, fellas.” She wondered if her grin looked as goofy as it felt. She couldn’t help it. They were superhot guys who just happened to be the star players of her favorite sports team. Some fangirling was totally reasonable.
“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise,” Logan drawled, taking off his sunglasses. He had the sexiest brown eyes Scarlett had ever seen. Dark as molasses and heavy lidded, like he’d just rolled out of some woman’s bed after giving her a night of screaming orgasms.
He treated Scarlett to a slow, appreciative perusal that left her feeling like he’d seen all of her and then some. Even with her covered from neck to toe in a black pea coat and jeans and ankle boots, the man had the ability to make her feel undressed. But not in a pervy way. In a holy-crap-this-guy-has-seriously-dangerous-bedroom-eyes way.
“Fall back, asshole,” Reid said with a drawl. “She’s not here for you.”
Logan grinned, those weaponized eyes twinkling at Scarlett. “Loverboy’s still inside practicing, making the rest of us look like slackers.”
Reid chuckled. “Speak for yourself. I’m not a slacker. Nadia and I have appointments to look at wedding venues.”
Hunter’s lips twitched. “And I have other…personal matters to attend to.”
The cryptic remark made the others chuckle and further piqued Scarlett’s curiosity about the gorgeous team captain. When she wasn’t eye-fucking Viggo during the engagement party, she’d found herself observing Hunter. There was something magnetic about him, the way he sat back and watched everyone with a quiet intensity. He gave off a Dom vibe that was sexy and intriguing. It wouldn’t surprise her if he was heavy into kink. The “personal matters” he’d mentioned probably included a naked woman tied up and waiting for him at home.
“Viggo’s always been a serious workhorse,” Logan was saying humorously. “But he’s been training even harder this season, gearing up for battle with his childhood nemesis.”
“That prick Axelsson,” Reid grumbled. “He has something to say every time they stick a damn microphone in his face.”
Logan laughed. “Let him keep talking shit. The more he shoots his mouth off, the more epic his beating’s gonna be.” He rubbed his big hands together, dark eyes gleaming with relish. “It’s gonna be like Rocky versus Apollo Creed. Except it’ll be Swede against Swede. I can’t fucking wait.”
“Yes, we all know how bloodthirsty you are,” Hunter drawled wryly.
Logan grinned. “That’s what they call me. Bloodthirsty Brassard.”
Scarlett laughed. “I thought your nickname was Bruiser.”
“That, too.” He gave her one of those panty-melting smiles. Yeppers. Totally dangerous.
“Viggo was working out with the trainer,” Reid told her, “but he’s back on the ice now.”
“I can show you where it is,” Logan offered.
Scarlett grinned. “Thanks, Bruiser, but I think I can manage.”
Reid and Hunter laughed.
Logan winked at her and slid his sunglasses back on.
“It was good seeing you, fellas.” Scarlett started away, tossing over her shoulder to Reid, “If you and Nadia find the perfect wedding spot, can you remind her to send me pictures?”
Reid gave her a lazy salute. “Will do.”
Grinning and waving, Scarlett headed inside the arena. The team’s practices were open to the public, but now that practice was over for the day, the place was pretty much deserted. Her boot heels rang out hollowly on the floor as she made her way to the rink.
She found Viggo alone on the ice.
Wearing a black jersey and black hockey pants with his skates, he was practicing his slap shot before tomorrow night’s game against the Penguins. He stood at the blue line with a row of pucks set up in front of him. Jaw set with determination, he methodically fired the pucks into the net, one right after the other.
Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh.
Scarlett bit her lip, watching him from where she stood by the boards.
He shouldn’t have looked so damn sexy right then. He shouldn’t have her heart beating so wildly she could barely breathe. He shouldn’t have her thighs clenching every time he pulled back his stick and smashed the puck. He shouldn’t have her panties growing damp in a fifty-degree ice rink.
But he did.
God help her, he did.
She was debating whether or not to call his name when he suddenly turned his head and spotted her.
When their eyes met, her body went hot and liquid, and she felt her knees tremble.
They stared at each other for a long, breathless moment.
Then Viggo dropped his hockey stick and started skating toward her, the cold breeze ruffling his dark blond hair. Her pulse pounded like a jackhammer as she watched him approach, his powerful body gliding across the ice as if he’d been born with skates on his feet.
Suddenly she didn’t know whether to meet him halfway or turn and bolt. It didn’t matter. His gaze had her pinned as surely as if her boots were glued to the ground.
He stopped directly in front of her, shooting up a spray of ice. Even with her wearing spiked heels, he still towered over her.
“Hey.”
That voice…God.
“Hey, yourself,” Scarlett whispered, staring up at him. Sweat glistened on his face and in the stubble on his jaw. He was insanely, ridiculously hot. She couldn’t look away from him even if she tried.
He was staring right back at her, watching as she nervously licked her lips and gestured to his head.
“You’re not wearing your helmet.”
His eyes glinted. “Keen observation.”
She frowned. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
The corners of his lips curved up in a slight smile. Holding her gaze, he removed his gloves with his teeth and dropped them on the ice. Then he reached out and gently stroked his knuckles down her cheek. The brush of his cool fingers shot sparks of heat through her body, causing her insides to clench.
The urge to touch him back was overwhelming. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop at just touching him. Clothes would have to come off. His and hers.
She sucked in a cool breath, banishing the dirty thought. “Seriously though, Viggo. You really shouldn’t be practicing without a helmet on. What if you get hurt? What if a puck hits you in the head or—”
“Scarlett.”
The lecture died on her lips. God, the way he said her name. No man had ever said her name the way he did, low and dark with just a hint of that crazy-sexy accent.
He cupped her cheek in his big, callused palm. “I really ap
preciate your concern for my safety—”
She forced a shrug. “You’re a star player for the Denver Rebels. I don’t want you doing anything that would jeopardize the team’s chances of winning the Stanley Cup.”
He cocked an amused eyebrow. “So my personal safety only matters to you as a fan?”
She grinned. “Of course not. Don’t be so sensitive.”
He chuckled softly, caressing her cheekbone with his thumb.
Shivering from his touch, she watched as a bead of sweat ran down the side of his face and clung to his jaw. She wanted to lick it off.
Instead she cleared her throat and stuffed her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “I, uh, have something to tell you.”
“What?”
She summoned her courage and blurted it out in one breath. “I have to go out of town so I’ll have to take a rain check for dinner tonight.”
Disappointment flared in his eyes. “Where are you going?”
“New York, for starters. My band just got invited on a holiday tour.”
He nodded slowly. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” Ever since her manager called, Scarlett had found herself wishing—for the first time ever—that she didn’t have to go on tour. She didn’t want to leave home. Specifically, she didn’t want to leave Viggo. That alone should have let her know she was in serious trouble.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I know I should have told you when we were together.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I hate goodbyes. And I wanted to enjoy your company without a cloud hanging over us.”
His expression softened. “I loved being with you.”
“And I loved being with you.” Her throat clogged up a bit, forcing her to swallow before whispering, “I couldn’t leave without seeing you again.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” He touched her hair. “When do you get back?”
“After New Year’s.”
His face fell.
“But Nadia and Reid invited me to join everyone in Canada for Christmas,” she hastened to add. “Will you be there, too?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Great.” She beamed at him.
He shifted closer to her. He was so big and brawny that he made her feel tiny and delicate, two words she would never use to describe herself.
“So we’ll see each other in Canada, then.”
Scarlett nodded and sang softly, “O Canada…”
That made him smile. “The voice of an angel.”
She blushed and smiled shyly, then took her hand out of her back pocket to reluctantly check her watch. “Well, um, my brother’s waiting outside so I’d better get going.”
Viggo nodded and then took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up. Her entire body was alive with electricity, tingling from the top of her head down to the soles of her feet.
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” he quietly confessed. “Does that make me a selfish bastard?”
“No.” Her voice was a breathy whisper. “I wish I could stay, too.”
She could tell her admission pleased him.
Slowly he lowered his head toward hers and then paused, his silvery gray eyes roaming her face with a tender intensity that robbed her of what little breath she had left.
“Vacker tjej,” he murmured in Swedish.
“Wh-what?” she whispered shakily. “What does that mean?”
His eyes gleamed. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
Her knees wobbled. “Is that what you just—”
“Shh.” The heat of his breath caressed her face as he moved closer and closer until his lips met hers.
Instant electricity sizzled through her body. Her mouth opened under his, breathing in his hungry groan. The soft rasp of his beard against her skin, combined with the velvety sensation of his mouth, set fire to her nerve endings.
Anchoring her head with his big hands, he tangled his tongue with hers. The slow, deep mating thrusts had her nipples pebbling and her womb clenching. She heard herself moan as she leaned into him, her fingers curling into the chilled fabric of his jersey.
The kiss was hot and wildly intoxicating, sparking a fierce rush of need that rocked her all the way down to her toes. She was literally shaking in her boots, her heart racing in her chest.
When Viggo lifted his head, she almost whimpered from the loss of his mouth.
Chest heaving, he rested his forehead against hers. They stared into each other’s eyes, lips parted, breathing in, breathing out.
“I could kiss you all day,” Viggo whispered.
“I wouldn’t complain,” Scarlett whispered back.
He smiled softly, still holding her face in his hands.
Seconds passed, long seconds she wished she could stretch out into eternity.
But of course she couldn’t.
“I really should get going,” she murmured resignedly. “My manager will lose her shit if I miss my flight.”
“Hmm. That wouldn’t be good.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” She smiled, reluctantly releasing her grip on his jersey.
“Has the tour schedule been posted to your website?”
“Yeah. Facebook, too. And I tweet every day when we’re on the road, so be on the lookout.”
“I will.” Viggo smiled.
She smiled back.
He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers one more time, the kiss lingering until her mind blurred at the edges and her toes curled. When he pulled away, she opened her eyes dazedly and looked up at him.
He caressed her lips with the pad of his thumb, smiling down at her. “Have a good trip, beautiful. Hope your gigs go well.”
“Thank you.” The words came out breathless. “Good luck on tomorrow’s game. Wednesday’s, too.”
“Thanks.” He winked. “I’ll score a goal for you.”
She grinned. “You do that.”
Smiling a crooked smile, he reluctantly dropped his hands from her face and stepped back.
Walking away from him shouldn’t have been so freaking hard. But it was. Dear God, was it ever.
Her brother grinned at her as she climbed into his waiting car and closed the door. “Did you say your goodbyes?”
“Yes,” she mumbled, buckling her seatbelt.
Lennox shook his head in amazement. “You and Viggo Sandström. I’ll be damned.”
Scarlett’s cheeks warmed. “Don’t start.”
Lennox laughed, pulling out of the parking lot. “Even before Dad outed you this morning, I knew something was up between you and Viggo. Hell, everyone who was at Nadia’s engagement party knows.”
Scarlett slouched in her seat. “We’re just getting to know each other. It’s not a big deal.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do.” Lennox gave her a sidelong grin. “You’ve had a thing for that dude since you were eighteen.”
“What?” she sputtered in protest. “I have not!”
“Have, too,” Lennox insisted, heading toward the highway. “It all started at that game we went to when you came home for winter break. Remember how excited you were when Dad surprised us with tickets to a Rebels game? We had awesome seats right behind the net. I can’t remember who they were playing—”
“The Predators,” Scarlett said automatically.
Lennox grinned knowingly. He’d been testing her. Every detail of that thrilling night was etched into her memory, and he knew it.
“It was Viggo’s rookie year. His and Reid’s. The team sucked, but those two were playing some phenomenal hockey,” Lennox reminisced. “The arena was rockin’ that night. Everyone was super hyped because we knew Viggo and Reid were the real deal, our best hope for winning the Cup. Remember how our whole section went crazy when Viggo scored that clutch goal, then came up to the glass and celebrated with us? When he pointed at you and winked, we all thought you were gonna pass out.”
The memory sent a flurry of warm ti
ngles through Scarlett. She bit her lip but couldn’t suppress a nostalgic grin. “That was an amazing game.”
“Hell yeah, it was.” Lennox grinned at her. “You couldn’t stop smiling for a whole week, and getting Viggo’s jersey for Christmas was the icing on the cake. He’s been your favorite hockey player ever since.”
“So what?” Scarlett said with a shrug. “He’s one of the best players in the league. Why wouldn’t he be my favorite?”
Lennox’s grin widened. “Given how long you’ve been secretly crushing on him—”
Her face flamed. “I haven’t been crushing—”
“—it’s kinda wild that you guys might actually end up together.” Lennox thoughtfully stroked his manicured goatee. “It almost seems like kismet, fate or whatever you wanna call it.”
Scarlett swallowed. She wanted to kick Lennox’s ass for taking her mind there. But he was her favorite brother, and he was doing her a huge favor by dropping her off at the airport. Plus he outweighed her by a hundred pounds, so kicking his ass wasn’t really an option.
She waved off his comments. “There’s no kismet going on here. Viggo and I haven’t even gone on a real date yet, and I highly doubt things will get serious between us.”
Her brother gave her a sidelong glance, then chuckled like he knew better.
She refused to believe he just might.
Chapter 8
Viggo
When She’s Gone
* * *
That night viggo met up with some of his teammates at Sullivan’s, a popular sports bar and grill frequented by many pro athletes living in Denver.
He was still bummed about Scarlett leaving town, so he wasn’t feeling very sociable. But hanging out with the boys was less loserish than staying home and moping the night away.
The bar was crowded and noisy as usual. Bunnies were all over the place, hoping to get laid. Several televisions were tuned to hockey or Monday Night Football. Beer bottles clinked, laughter flowed and there was a steady crack of cue balls from a rowdy pool game on the other side of the room. It wasn’t exactly the romantic candlelit scene Viggo had been anticipating.
He tried not to think about that as he sat around the table with his teammates. He was half watching the hockey game, half listening to the raucous banter around him. Their dinner plates had been cleared and their beer replenished, so tongues were getting looser.
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