The Swede

by Maureen Smith

  Scarlett barely breathed as the power play unfolded. Leaning all the way forward in her seat, she watched Viggo hook his blade over the puck and charge furiously toward the goal. As a Chicago forward barreled down on him, he fired a blistering slap shot that found its way through traffic to the net.

  The lamp lit up and the crowd erupted into deafening cheers and applause. Scarlett and Nadia hugged each other and squealed like banshees. The players on the bench whooped and pounded the floor with their sticks.

  Viggo was mobbed by Reid, Hunter and Logan. The four of them celebrated the goal with a manly round of hugging and backslapping, gloved fists pumping in the air.

  As Viggo skated past Scarlett in the stands, he pointed at her and winked.

  Heat simmered up her face and her stomach got all fluttery with butterflies. Several women around her giggled and cooed his name, each one assuming that she’d been personally singled out for attention.

  Suddenly Viggo glanced back at Scarlett and did a double take, his gaze focusing like a laser. He looked like he’d just experienced déjà vu.

  Her breath caught as she stared back at him, wondering if he’d finally remembered seeing her in the stands six years ago.

  She held her breath, waiting….

  But then Logan skated up to Viggo and said something, breaking his focus on Scarlett. He looked away from her, laughing as he skated off with Logan.

  Scarlett expelled a shaky breath and took a long swig of her beer.

  “What was that about?” Nadia asked curiously.

  Scarlett just shrugged and returned her attention to the game. It didn’t take long for her to get swept back up into the action. She was a Rebels fan long before Viggo Sandström ever skated into her heart, and watching hockey gave her a rush like no other sport. Perched on the edge of her seat, she yelled at the refs for bad calls, shouted encouragements to the Rebels, and slapped high fives with Nadia and Nelson when the team made good plays.

  Seven minutes into the first period, a fierce tussle broke out by the boards as Viggo and an opposing forward wrestled for control of the puck, cursing and shoving and elbowing each other. Viggo won the battle and deftly flicked the puck to Logan, who took off like a torpedo. As he neared the net, he blasted a shot past Chicago’s defenseman and straight between the goalie’s legs. The crowd went wild, chanting “Bruiser, Bruiser, Bruiser!”

  The Rebels had taken a 2-0 lead, ramping up the excitement in the arena. A few minutes later when Viggo and Reid were resting on the bench, Scarlett and Nadia shamelessly ogled them. Their seats were so close that they could see the beads of sweat running down their faces and dripping down the backs of their necks. The two friends were laughing and joking around, their heads bent together like conspirators.

  When Viggo took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair, Scarlett bit her lip, wishing she could spear her hands through the damp blond locks and pull his warm mouth down to hers.

  When Reid tilted his head back and chugged some Gatorade, Nadia purred lasciviously, “Drink up, Rocket. Replenish those electrolytes and quench your thirst, ’cause I am gonna wear your ass out tonight.”

  Scarlett almost choked on the sip of beer she’d just taken. “Okay,” she teased, “when did you become such a hockey hooker?”

  “Hooker?” Nadia grinned and fluttered her fingers, showing off her beautiful diamond ring. “I prefer wifey.”

  Scarlett pealed with laughter and gave her a high five. “Go on, girl! I ain’t mad atcha!”

  At that moment, Viggo and Reid turned and looked up to where Scarlett and Nadia were sitting a few rows behind them.

  Nadia puckered her lips and blew Reid a kiss. He pretended to catch it and secure it against his heart.

  Scarlett wanted to roll her eyes, but then Viggo smiled at her and she lost all semblance of cool and grinned like a freaking idiot. His gray eyes roamed over her with a heated interest that had her practically melting into her seat. It was only when he turned away to chuckle at a teammate’s joke that she remembered to breathe.

  “I saw that.” Nadia gave her a sly grin and bumped her shoulder. “Don’t even pretend that you and Viggo won’t be burning up the sheets tonight. I know watching him play hockey turns you on. Admit it.”

  “You got me.” Scarlett grinned wickedly. “Hockey hooker and proud.”

  A few plays later, Reid rammed a Chicago winger into the boards, knocking the puck loose. Viggo swooped in to scoop it up, then skated around behind the net and popped the puck in on the side.

  As the arena exploded in celebration, Viggo and Reid gave each other a hearty chest bump, their faces wreathed in the biggest grins.

  “Look at them,” Nadia pointed, laughing warmly. “They’re like two little boys out there.”

  “I know, right?” Scarlett laughed. “They’re kicking ass and having a blast, and I am so here for it!”

  Right before the first period ended, Hunter scored an electrifying goal that sent the crowd into a wild frenzy and gave the Rebels an impressive 4-0 lead. They swagger-skated off the ice, tapping the hands of fans hanging over the glass by the tunnel.

  “Man, I miss the hockey beat,” Nelson lamented.

  “We know you do,” the others commiserated.

  Nelson was a sportswriter for the Denver Dispatch. For the past few months, he’d been covering hockey while the regular beat reporter was on leave dealing with family matters. Hockey was Nelson’s first love, so he’d thoroughly enjoyed attending Rebels games and interviewing the players for his column. But now that his colleague was back at work, Nelson was back to covering high school and college football.

  Scarlett shook her head at him. “I thought for sure you’d get permanently reassigned to the hockey beat after that amazing piece you did on Reid. I mean, it got national attention and everything.”

  “It did.” Nelson looked proud. As he should. His feature article on Reid had been all kinds of awesome. One veteran sports analyst had praised it as “a profoundly insightful profile of a game changer who would probably go down in history as one of the greatest NHL defensemen.” The piece was tweeted and retweeted by Reid’s family, friends, teammates and hockey fans everywhere. Reid’s father and grandfather loved it so much that they gave Nelson a box of Cohiba cigars and an equally expensive bottle of whiskey. After a promising interview with The Denver Post, he was expecting a job offer any day now.

  Suddenly the arena music stopped and the announcer’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “Since some of you have been wondering, tonight’s awesome entrance song was called ‘Fahrenheit 32’ by Off The Grid. The band’s lead singer and drummer, Scarlett Warner, was born and raised right here in Denver. If I’m not mistaken, she’s actually here tonight.”

  Scarlett let out a surprised gasp. And suddenly there she was on the JumboTron, looking like a deer caught in high beams.

  The crowd whistled and cheered in support. Nadia, Nelson and Bianca huddled close to her and waved at the JumboTron.

  The announcer told the crowd, “Everyone give a hearty hello to our hometown rock star!”

  Scarlett could only laugh and blush as an arena full of strangers showered her with raucous greetings. Someone squeezed her shoulder from behind, and several people asked for her autograph.

  Once the crowd had shifted their attention elsewhere, she grabbed Nadia’s hand and tugged her along to the bathroom, giggling the whole way. The line was long, but thankfully it moved quickly. She and Nadia emerged from their stalls at the same time and went to the sink to wash their hands.

  Ever since Reid’s romantic proposal went viral, people had been recognizing Nadia pretty much everywhere she went. As she stood at the mirror retouching her nude lip gloss, several women gave her assessing glances and rolled their eyes. Nadia pretended not to notice. She was still getting used to the idea of being an NHL player’s fiancée. She was acutely aware that she didn’t look like most of the other wives and girlfriends, and sometimes this made her feel self-conscious.r />
  Watching her retreat into shrinking violet mode always brought out the mama bear in Scarlett. She was ready to kick the ass of anyone who tried to hurt her cousin.

  Hoping to distract Nadia from the jealous glares, Scarlett grinned at their reflections in the mirror and joked, “Look at us. We look like little girls wearing our daddies’ shirts.”

  Nadia laughed. “Don’t we?”

  Reid and Viggo’s jerseys were ridiculously long on them, hanging to their knees. Scarlett gathered the hem of her jersey and tied it in a knot at her back, revealing an inch or so of bare midriff.

  “Hey, that looks cute,” Nadia said. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  Scarlett grinned. “’Cause I’m the fashionista in the family.” She fixed Nadia’s jersey, then turned her toward the mirror and playfully smacked her round ass. “That’s right, mami. Show off that ba-dunk-a-dunk your man loves so much.”

  They were still laughing when a tall blonde strutted into the bathroom and joined them at the mirror to retouch her lipstick. She was wearing Viggo’s jersey over a pair of tapered black pants with designer pumps.

  Her cornflower-blue eyes raked over Scarlett, narrowing at the way she’d knotted the jersey behind her back. She looked distinctly displeased.

  Scarlett ignored her, leaning toward the mirror to reapply her red lipstick.

  “I’ve never heard of your band before.”

  Scarlett’s eyes snapped to the blonde’s reflection.

  There was a small smirk on her face. “Off The Grid, was it?”

  “That’s right,” Scarlett said.

  “Hmm.” The woman ran manicured fingers through her long blond hair. “The Rebels have used ‘Winter Rebellion’ as their entrance song for years. I mean, it was written just for them. Given how much hockey players value their traditions and superstitions, I was really surprised that they changed their entrance song tonight.”

  Scarlett coolly returned the blonde’s stare. “Your point?”

  She flipped her hair back. “If your band was more popular, I might understand them using your song. But Off The Grid isn’t exactly a household name. So I have to assume you’re dating one of the players.” She looked at the number on Scarlett’s jersey and frowned.

  Scarlett smirked at her.

  “I don’t know,” Nadia mused philosophically, running a comb through her shoulder-length hair. “Thirty-two degrees is the temperature at which water freezes on the Fahrenheit scale. ‘Fahrenheit 32’ is a song about an ultimate competitor with ice in his veins and a heart of steel. What could be more fitting for an ice hockey team?”

  The blonde narrowed her eyes as Nadia went on blithely, “Anyway, the Rebels are beating Chicago 4-0. So maybe the new entrance song will be their good luck charm.”

  The blonde skewered her with a death glare.

  Unbothered, Nadia flashed an angelic smile and flipped her hair.

  It was all Scarlett could do not to burst out laughing.

  An older woman entered the bathroom and greeted the seething blonde. “Audrey. Hi. How’s your mother?”

  As the two women began chatting, Scarlett’s eyes narrowed in speculation. Could this be the same Audrey who used to date Viggo? The same Audrey who still called him?

  “C’mon, Scar, let’s get back before the second period starts.” Nadia grabbed her hand and ushered her out of the bathroom, shaking her head in amused bewilderment. “What the hell was up with that chick?”

  Scarlett snorted. “Who knows?”

  But she had a pretty good idea.

  * * *

  The rebels outshot the Blackhawks and played a tight checking game that kept them off balance most of the night. The final score was Rebels 6, Blackhawks 2.

  After the game, Nelson and Bianca said their goodbyes while Scarlett and Nadia headed down to the locker room to claim their victorious gladiators. Several other girlfriends and wives were already gathered in the hallway. Plenty of bunnies were there too, chatting up security while keeping one hungry eye on the closed locker room door.

  While they were waiting for Viggo and Reid to come out, Nadia introduced Scarlett to the gorgeous blond wife of Rebels goaltender Sergei Vasiliev. Jenna hugged Scarlett and invited her over for dinner, proving to be just as warm and down to earth as Nadia had described her. A former actress and model, she’d taken Nadia under her wing, welcoming her into the exclusive sorority of players’ wives and girlfriends. She’d also been giving her wedding planning advice, and she’d secretly contacted Nadia’s mother to let her know she was throwing a team bridal shower for Nadia. All the Warner women were grateful to have Jenna Vasiliev looking out for Nadia.

  When Jenna pulled out her phone to show off Christmas photos of her young children, everyone crowded around her to coo and fawn over the adorable images. Scarlett had never been one to go goo-goo-ga-ga over strangers’ baby pictures. Yet there she was cooing and fawning right along with the others.

  Dammit. Being in love was making her soft.

  The bunnies started screaming as soon as Viggo came out of the locker room. His hair was slicked back from his forehead and he’d changed into one of his bespoke Italian suits, transitioning from hockey warrior to GQ cover model.

  He looked across the hall and slowly looked Scarlett up and down, lingering on the strip of bare skin at her midriff. The possessive heat of his gaze made her pulse sprint and increased the blood flow to her girl parts.

  Ignoring the cacophony of screams and squeals, he sauntered right up to Scarlett and smiled down at her. “Hej.”

  “Hej.” Her voice was breathy, her skin shivery. She loved it when he spoke Swedish to her.

  He put his finger under her chin and tilted her face up, then slowly lowered his head toward hers.

  She probably should have stopped him. She wasn’t ready to go public with their relationship yet, so kissing him in front of other people was a really bad idea. But the moment his warm mouth touched hers, the need for secrecy went right out the window.

  Leaning up on tiptoe, she parted her lips and let her tongue slide against his. He gave a growling sigh that shot heat through every cell of her body. As he deepened the kiss, she slid her hands around his neck and into the hair at his nape, which was damp from his shower. He smelled soapy clean and tasted absolutely delicious.

  The sound of wolf whistles and cheers broke them apart, laughing softly and smiling into each other’s eyes.

  “We’ll finish this later,” Scarlett whispered.

  “Damn right we will.” He took her overnight bag from her and slung it over his big shoulder.

  Hearing more excited squeals, Scarlett glanced around to see Reid sauntering out of the locker room. He came across the hall, cupped Nadia’s face in his hands and laid a great big kiss on her. She was still swaying on her feet when he scooped her up, tossed her over his Armani-clad shoulder and carried her off like a pirate claiming his booty. Laughter erupted in the hallway.

  Viggo grinned at Scarlett, threading his strong fingers through hers as they followed Reid and Nadia out the rear exit to the parking lot.

  She congratulated him on the team’s impressive win, gushing over the way he’d imposed his will on the Hawks right out the gate. “Drawing that early penalty to set up the power play was a thing of beauty—”

  “Speaking of a thing of beauty…”

  She turned her head to see him looking behind her, unabashedly checking out her ass in her tight jeans. When he bit his bottom lip, she grinned and punched him on the arm.

  “Dude, stop objectifying me.”

  He gave a low laugh, his large hand cupping her bottom. “Can’t wait to get you home, babe. Gonna objectify this sweet ass all night long.”

  Okay, that sounded way hotter than it should have.

  Just ahead of them, Reid was depositing Nadia in the passenger seat of his Ford pickup.

  Viggo was parked nearby. When he and Scarlett reached the Silverado, she stroked the truck’s shiny chrome and cooed affectio
nately, “Hey, handsome. I missed you.”

  “Fuck, woman,” Viggo grumbled. “You’re making me jealous of my damn truck.”

  She laughed at him.

  Reid and Nadia drove past calling out the open window, “Try not to burn down the house tonight!”

  Viggo and Scarlett laughed. After stowing her bag in the backseat, he helped her up into the cab of the truck, closed the door and came around to slide behind the wheel. Before she could take her next breath, he dragged her across the bench seat and gave her a searing kiss that had her hot and wet in an instant.

  When he broke the kiss, she let out a quivering breath and croaked, “Home. Hurry.”

  “Hell yes.” Keeping her at his side, he buckled their seatbelts and started the engine.

  She put her head on his shoulder, watching as he maneuvered the truck out of the busy parking lot and into the stream of traffic. He drove with one hand, his other arm draped around her shoulders so he could hold her close. The heat of his body warmed her all over, making the heater unnecessary.

  Stopping at a red light, he took his hand off the wheel to stroke her cheek. “God, I missed touching you.”

  His words sent tingles of pleasure spiraling through her. “I’m addicted to your touch.”

  “I’m addicted to you.”

  Her heart went topsy-turvy. When she lifted her head to smile at him, the glittering light in his eyes did all sorts of crazy things to her hormones.

  As he leaned in for another kiss, a horn honked behind them. They grinned crookedly at each other before Viggo returned his attention to driving.

  Scarlett sighed, resettling her head on his shoulder. “It sucks that we won’t be spending New Year’s Eve together.”

  “I know,” he muttered. “I’m trying not to think about it.”

  The Rebels were flying to Arizona tomorrow to play the Coyotes. Nadia was still on winter break from work, so she was tagging along to spend more time with Reid. Scarlett couldn’t help feeling jealous. Not for the first time, she wondered if she and Viggo could make their relationship work despite their busy travel schedules.