The Swede

by Maureen Smith

  Trying not to freak out, she looked around for Lennox. When she saw no sign of him, she figured he must have stepped outside for some fresh air. She pulled on her coat and headed out to the porch.

  Sure enough, Lennox stood at the porch rail talking on his phone. His voice was low, the intimate caress of a lover.

  “I miss you, too,” he was saying. “I wish you were here so I could hold you and—”

  Scarlett pulled up short.

  Before she could turn around and duck back inside, Lennox turned and saw her standing there. He looked guilty, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

  She felt rooted to the spot, as if some arctic monster had descended from the mountains and frozen her into a statue.

  Lennox quickly rushed off the phone and stared at her. There was an unspoken plea in his eyes that gutted her.

  A painfully awkward silence fell between them.

  Lennox gestured vaguely. “I’m, uh, gonna get something to drink.”

  Scarlett nodded and stepped away from the door.

  As he brushed past her, she asked casually, “So how’s Cooper doing?”

  Lennox’s shoulders stiffened beneath his coat. He didn’t turn around. “He’s fine.”

  “Good.” Scarlett managed a smile. “Is that who you were just talking to?”

  Her brother didn’t answer right away.

  She waited, her heart thrumming in her ears. The moment felt weighted with importance.

  After a small eternity, Lennox turned around to look at her. The truth was written all over his face. A truth he’d been trying to outrun most of his life.

  Scarlett swallowed hard. “You don’t have to hide from me, Lennox. You don’t have to hide who you are.”

  A look came over his face. The conflicted look of a man who felt both cornered and relieved, trapped and liberated.

  She took a step toward him, moving as cautiously as if he were a skittish mare. “Talk to me.”

  He lowered his eyes to the ground between them. When he spoke, his normally deep voice was barely audible. “This isn’t a good time, Scarlett.”

  “Then when?” she gently pressed. “When will be a good time to talk about the secret that’s been eating you alive for years?”

  His dark eyes flew back up to her face. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but no words came out.

  “I know you’re gay, Lennox. I’ve always known.” She held her breath, hoping he would finally open up and let her in.

  He didn’t say a word.

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” she said fervently. “You shouldn’t be hiding in the closet. You should be out and proud.”

  A grimace of pain twisted his features. “It’s not that simple.”

  “I know, but—”

  “No,” Lennox snarled, “you don’t know. No one will ever call you a disgusting abomination for being sexually attracted to men. No one will ever tell you that you’re going to hell for loving who you love. Getting teased for liking white boys is not the same fucking thing!”

  Scarlett frowned at him. “I never said—”

  “I know,” he snapped gruffly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. You’re right. I don’t know what it’s like for you. I could never know.” Her voice softened. “But I want you to understand that I’m here for you. I always have been, and I always will be.”

  “I know that, Scarlett. I just…” He jammed his hand into his hair, closed his eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. “I can’t do this right now.”

  Scarlett knew she should back off and give him space. But it killed her to see him in so much pain. “I love you, Lennox. We all love you. No one will turn their back on you if you tell them—”

  “I’m not ready.”

  Her heart constricted. “Lenny—”

  “I said I’m not ready!”

  They stood in silence as drifts of snow swirled around the porch in a wintry dance. Never had such a gaping chasm existed between them.

  When Scarlett reached for his arm, he flinched away from her touch as if it was painful. His rejection hurt her to the core.

  Jaw clamped tight, he stalked over to the porch rail and stared out over the snowy landscape. “Do you know why I invited Cooper to Thanksgiving dinner?”

  Scarlett stared at him and slowly shook her head.

  “It was an experiment. A test run. I wanted to see how Dad would react to Cooper, how he would respond to seeing us together just as friends. Look how he freaked out at the mere suggestion of Cooper wanting a relationship with me.” His lips twisted bitterly. “It was a fucking test, Scarlett. And Dad failed miserably.”

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  “Don’t be,” he said with grim irony. “This is Dad we’re talking about. I was crazy to expect anything different.”

  “So what does that mean?” Scarlett challenged. “Are you going to give him control over your life? Are you going to let him force you to keep living a lie? You deserve to be happy, Lennox. You deserve to live your truth.”

  He gave a harsh snort. “Easy for you to say.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re Daddy’s Little Girl, Scarlett. His gifted little rock star. You can do no wrong in his eyes. Same goes for Luke. He’s the firstborn son, which already makes him special. Then he went and followed in Dad’s footsteps by becoming an aerospace engineer. He and Dad bond over their work. They have lunch every week, attend company functions and play golf together. Dad loves bragging to everyone that Luke is a chip off the old block.” Lennox looked at Scarlett with raw entreaty. “Who am I, huh? What makes me special to Dad?”

  She frowned. “You’re his son—”

  “That’s right! I’m his son!” He thumped his broad chest. “I’m supposed to be an extension of him. I’m supposed to embody all that he embodies. Black manhood! Black masculinity! Don’t you get it? Dad looks at every muscle carved into my body and thinks proudly, ‘That’s my boy. That’s my son. What a fine specimen he is. Fruit of my loins.’”

  Scarlett shook her head sadly. “You’re so much more than that, Lennox.”

  “Am I?” he challenged. “Remember when I was playing football in college? Remember how proud of me he was, showing me off to his friends and bragging about what a big NFL star I was gonna be? He won’t look at me that way if he finds out I’m gay. He’ll look at me with anger, disappointment, disgust.” Lennox stared at Scarlett, his eyes shining with tears. “He’ll look at me with shame.”

  Scarlett was fighting back her own tears. When she moved forward to hug her brother, he backed away from her and held up a hand to ward her off. His throat worked and his eyes grew shuttered, the protective shield falling back into place.

  “We’d better go back inside. It’s time for Family Feud.” He walked to the door and paused, staring through the window like some outsider who wanted desperately to belong. He looked so fragile and vulnerable. So alone.

  Scarlett watched him, her heart breaking into a million pieces. “How much longer can you keep up the charade, Lennox?” she whispered. “How much longer can you live like this?”

  “I’m not ready,” he said in a low voice. “If you can’t respect that, then you’re not the sister I thought you were.”

  Her throat tightened. “That’s not fair.”

  Lennox’s chest expanded on a heavy breath. “Since when has life ever been fair?”

  On that mournful note he went back inside, leaving her out in the cold.

  * * *

  “What’s going on with you?” Viggo murmured later that night as he and Scarlett snuggled under a blanket in front of a crackling fire.

  After leaving the lodge, they’d returned to the cabin with the other three couples and hung out in the hot tub for a while. When they returned to their room, Viggo had changed into dark pajama bottoms and helped Scarlett into the matching top. Sensing her melancholy mood, he’d grabbed a warm blanket, taken her hand and
led her over to the fireplace. They lay down on a big bearskin rug with him spooning her, holding her close with her back pressed against his chest and his arm wrapped around her waist.

  She was staring into the flickering flames, replaying her painful conversation with Lennox. The sound of Viggo’s deep voice pulled her out of her brooding.

  “Sorry.” She glanced over her shoulder and flashed him a rueful smile. “Did you say something?”

  He pushed himself up on one elbow so that he could look down into her face. His brows were furrowed with concern. “You’ve been quiet and distracted all night. What’s on your mind?”

  She forced another smile. “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit,” he growled. “I know something’s up. You haven’t been yourself since dinner. Hell, you haven’t even asked me what your father and I talked about.”

  She gave him a pointed look. “I figured if you wanted me to know, you would have told me.”

  He didn’t deny it. Firelight flickered over the hard planes of his face, caressing the wicked curve of his mouth.

  He leaned down and kissed her bare shoulder. The soft brush of his lips made her shiver. “I miss you,” he murmured. “Wherever you’ve been, come back to me.”

  She swallowed hard, fighting the tangle of sadness and guilt that twisted inside her. Sadness for her brother. Guilt for being able to love the man she loved without fear of condemnation.

  She studied the reflection of the firelight dancing in Viggo’s eyes. “You and your siblings are pretty close, aren’t you?”

  “We are.” His gaze softened on her face. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just wondering.” She smiled a little. “Who are you closest to?”

  “I’m pretty close to all of them. But Rikard and I are probably the tightest.”

  “He’s the Olympic skier, right?”

  “Right. We’re only a year apart, like Reid and Ryder—”

  “And me and Nadia.”

  “Yes. Like you and Nadia.” Viggo stroked her hair back from her face as they smiled at each other, basking in the lazy warmth of the fire and the closeness of their bodies under the blanket.

  “Rikard’s the one you were talking to before we went to dinner on Christmas,” Scarlett recalled. “It must have been close to midnight back in Stockholm.”

  “I know,” Viggo said with a chuckle. “He’s a night owl, so we always talk pretty late.”

  Scarlett smiled as she took his hand in hers, interlocking their fingers. “Do you guys tell each other everything? All your secrets?”

  He nodded, eyes twinkling. “Pretty much.”

  She felt a pang of envy. On its heels was curiosity. She wondered what, if anything, he’d told his brother about her. It mattered more than she wanted to admit.

  He rolled her onto her back and levered over her, tattooed biceps bulging as he planted his hands on either side of her head. The firelight reflected in his hair and danced over the golden expanse of his chest.

  As he stared down at her, she reached up and gently touched his face. “I wish I didn’t have to fly out tomorrow,” she lamented. “I really wanted to attend your game with everyone.”

  “I wish you could be there, too,” he murmured. “But at least you get to come home for a day before you have to leave again for Boston. You’ll be at our next home game.”

  She sighed. “True.”

  He searched her eyes. “Is that what’s been bothering you? Having to leave tomorrow?”

  She hesitated, then nodded. She hated lying to him. But she couldn’t betray her brother by sharing his secret with anyone, not even her lover.

  Viggo’s eyes continued probing her face. He knew she was holding something back. That was the problem with him. He saw way too much.

  She stroked her hands up and down his back, savoring the feel of his warm skin gliding beneath her touch. “I hate the thought of going back to Buffalo without you.”

  He smiled into her eyes. “We’ll go back together someday. I promise.”

  Smiling up at him, she slid her fingers along his nape and into his hair. “It’s our last night together in Canada.”

  “I know,” he whispered, lowering his mouth to hers, “so let’s make it count.”

  Chapter 19

  Viggo

  Stuck Between a Rock and

  a Fucked Up Place

  * * *

  After morning skate on Wednesday, the Rebels had a team meeting to rehash Monday’s game and watch film. They’d squeaked out a win over Toronto, but it had been ugly and Coach Bohler wasn’t too happy. He’d chewed their asses out after the game and during the flight home to Denver.

  “Some of you played like you had too much turkey and wine over the holidays,” he groused, pointing things out as they viewed the tape. “That was a stupid roughing penalty you took, Holden. Rookie level shit. You know better.”

  Reid slumped low in his chair and ducked his head. He’d gotten an earful from his parents for the same penalty.

  “Sandström,” Coach barked next. “Way too many missed shots on goal. Where the hell was your focus?”

  “Sorry, Coach,” Viggo mumbled, tugging his baseball cap lower over his face. No player liked to be called out in front of teammates, and he was no exception.

  But Coach was an equal opportunity ass-kicker. He didn’t care how much money you were earning or how big of a star you were. If your level of play wasn’t up to his standards, you’d hear about it. Before all was said and done, he’d called out several more players for what he deemed “stunningly boneheaded” mistakes.

  After the meeting, everyone grabbed their belongings and started filing out the door. Viggo, Reid, Hunter and Logan fell into step together.

  “That was rough,” Reid muttered.

  Hunter grimaced. “And we won the game. Imagine how much worse it would have been if we’d lost.”

  Logan grinned crookedly at Viggo and Reid. “Never thought I’d say this, but maybe you boys got a little too much pussy over the break.”

  “Shut up, Brassard,” they both grumbled. But their lips were twitching.

  Both were still riding high on the rush that came from being with an intoxicating woman. Viggo could barely focus on anything but the amazing four days he’d spent with Scarlett. The sex had been fucking phenomenal. The best he’d ever had. But he’d also had a whole lot of fun with her. She made him laugh. She made him feel happy and relaxed. She made him forget the demons that had dogged him most of his life. Hell, she’d nearly made him cry over a singing stuffed animal.

  He was so consumed with her that he’d found himself doodling variations of her name during the meeting. Scarlett…Scarlett Rain…Scarlett Sandström.

  Jesus Kristus.

  He was well and truly fucked.

  Logan drawled humorously, “I must say, I’m a little jealous. The most action I saw was getting my ass squeezed by Hunter’s aunt. She’s a hot MILF, but I didn’t think her husband would appreciate me banging his old lady over a platter of meat pies.”

  Viggo and Reid cracked up laughing while Hunter scowled and shook his head. Logan had spent Christmas with Hunter’s family in Quebec so he wouldn’t have to travel back home before the Toronto game. Hunter’s aunt had apparently mistaken him for one of her Christmas presents.

  He cast a sly grin at Hunter. “You know who I wouldn’t have minded sharing a cup of eggnog with? Your sister Geneviève.”

  Hunter’s eyes narrowed menacingly. “You got a death wish?”

  “No more than usual.” Logan’s grin broadened and his eyes glittered with mischief. “As the only one in the group who doesn’t have any sisters, I’d like to revisit our rule about sisters being off limits.”

  “No fucking way,” the others growled.

  Logan laughed.

  “Gentlemen.”

  Everyone turned to find General Manager Lute McCaskill striding down the hallway toward them. They exchanged curious glances as he approached with an easygoing smile.


  “Good game on Monday. It wasn’t pretty, but a win is a win.” He winked. “Don’t tell Coach I said that.”

  They just chuckled.

  McCaskill shifted his attention to Viggo. “Got a minute?”

  “Uh, sure.” He turned to the guys. “I’ll catch up.”

  They gave him a better-you-than-me look before taking off.

  McCaskill smiled affably, clapping his beefy hand on Viggo’s shoulder. “How’s it going, son?”

  Son? “It’s going fine, sir.”

  “That’s good. You’re having one hell of a season, aren’t you? Landrieu couldn’t be more pleased,” he said, referring to the team owner. “He thinks you’re a shoo-in to win your second Hart Trophy. You’re definitely playing like an MVP.”

  Viggo chuckled. “I appreciate Mr. Landrieu’s vote of confidence. But we’ve still got a lot of games left to play, so I’m just focusing on winning those.”

  “Of course, of course.” McCaskill clapped him on the shoulder, steering him down the hallway. “So listen, I just wanted to thank you for agreeing to participate in my niece’s charity bachelor auction next month. Audrey is really excited to be organizing the event for her women’s club. Having you on board means the world to her.”

  “It’s for a good cause,” was all Viggo said.

  “Yes, it is. And your participation will be good PR for the team,” McCaskill said with a hearty laugh.

  Viggo stretched his lips into a forced smile. He’d been trying not to think about the bachelor auction that Audrey had hounded him about for more than a week. He’d only agreed to participate after he saw the photo of Scarlett and Leo Harry. In his anger and haste to get over her, he’d told Audrey that he was available for the bachelor auction. She got so excited that he’d immediately regretted saying yes. But it was too late to back out.

  “I’m really proud of Audrey for settling into her new community and making friends,” McCaskill was saying. “I don’t know if she told you, but her mother and I have been estranged for years. We had a big falling out because I didn’t approve of the man she wanted to marry. He was a real piece of work, but my sister—Audrey’s mother—thought he hung the moon. It took years of him lying and cheating on her to bring her to her senses. She divorced the no-good bastard and took him to the cleaners. Then she packed up her things and moved here with Audrey to start over. I couldn’t be happier to have them back in my life.”