The Swede

by Maureen Smith

  “Are you hungry?” Zander asked her. “I made you lunch.”

  “Aww, how sweet.” Scarlett sighed. “And here I was feeling unloved because none of you offered to pick me up from the airport.”

  Cara sputtered behind her. “What am I? Chopped liver?”

  “Of course not.” Scarlett winked at her. “I just like making ’em feel guilty.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “We asked Cara to pick you up to give us more time to get the house ready,” Ryu said.

  Scarlett smiled, cupping his lean cheek. “I appreciate that.”

  Traeger glanced behind her. “Where’s your suitcase?”

  “In the trunk, waiting for you to bring it in.”

  He laughed and gave her a mock salute. “Yes, boss lady.”

  “I’ll, uh, pop the trunk for you.” Cara followed him out the door.

  Gage tugged Scarlett into the modestly furnished living room, watching as she made a show of inspecting the place. It was spotless.

  “Wow, boys. I’m truly impressed.”

  They exchanged boyishly pleased grins. Lennox had once joked that Scarlett’s relationship with her bandmates reminded him of a Mistress leading her subs around on a leash. She could have punched him in his face for planting such a pervy image in her mind.

  Zander put his hands on her shoulders, guiding her toward the kitchen. “Come see the lasagna I made. Cara gave me her grandmother’s recipe.”

  The kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off, but Scarlett wasn’t about to complain after Zander had spent hours preparing lunch for her.

  He led her to the counter next to the stove and peeled the foil off a hot pan of lasagna.

  “Mmm. That looks delicious.” Scarlett leaned over the pan, inhaling the fragrant steam that wafted up. “Smells yummy, too.”

  When Zander beamed proudly, she grinned and ruffled his unruly blond hair. “You boys are spoiling me.”

  He shrugged. “Since you’re the one who used to do most of the cooking when you lived here, we just wanted to return the favor.” He lifted the lid on a small pot on the stove. “I went ahead and made you some licorice tea for later.”

  “Awesome. Thanks, Zandy.” Scarlett always drank licorice tea before she performed. The licorice helped warm up her vocal cords.

  When Traeger and Cara came back inside, Scarlett took one look at their faces and knew something had transpired between them while they were getting her suitcase. Cara looked flushed and uncomfortable while Traeger’s expression was unreadable. Too unreadable.

  Zander proudly showed off his lasagna to Cara. “What do you think? Does it look anything like your grandma’s?”

  “It does.” Cara appraised the steaming lasagna and smiled. “Nonna would approve.”

  Zander grinned and puffed out his chest.

  Cara chuckled, adjusting the strap of her handbag on her shoulder. “Well, you guys enjoy your lunch. I’m gonna head back to the hotel and return some calls.”

  “Why don’t you stay and eat with us?” Zander invited. “You can give me your honest opinion of how Nonna’s recipe turned out.”

  Cara smiled. “Thanks, but I should really—”

  “The calls can wait.” Traeger looked at her. “Stay.”

  A flush rose in her cheeks. She swallowed, bit her lip and nodded. “Okay.”

  Scarlett grinned to herself. She’d have to grill Cara later, give her a taste of her own medicine.

  Traeger grabbed the handle of Scarlett’s suitcase. “Let me take this up to your room.”

  Everyone followed him upstairs and down the hall to her old room, which was now Zander’s. The three-story row house had four cramped bedrooms and a basement, where they stored their music equipment and rehearsed.

  Traeger paused outside Zander’s room, motioning Scarlett to enter first.

  She stepped through the door and skidded to a stop.

  There, on the wall above the bed, was a humongous poster of Viggo playing hockey. It was the perfect action shot of him charging up the ice, his eyes glittering with fierce determination and a beautiful layer of sweat glistening on his jaw.

  Scarlett gaped at the poster, feeling her cheeks flame.

  When she turned around to stare at her bandmates, they burst out laughing. Cara put her hand over her mouth to hide her amusement.

  Scarlett sighed in resignation. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

  The laughter got even louder and more hysterical.

  She shot an accusing glare at Cara. “Why didn’t you tell me they knew?”

  “I kinda did. I said ‘I’m sure’ they knew.” Cara grinned. “Anyway, they swore me to secrecy. But they didn’t tell me about the poster. If they’d asked for my input, I would have picked one where Viggo is shirtless.”

  Scarlett grinned wryly. “I’ve seen him naked. I don’t need a poster.”

  Cara gave her an envious look. “Rub it in, why don’t you?”

  The guys were pulling themselves together, wiping tears from their eyes.

  “Dude,” Traeger said to Scarlett as she walked to the bed and sat down, “why didn’t you tell us about you and Viggo Sandström?”

  “Because she knew we’d give her a hard time.” Ryu grinned at Scarlett. “Just had to do it, didn’t you? You just had to get yourself a hockey player.”

  “Apparently.” Gage propped one shoulder against the doorframe, folding his tattooed arms over his chest. “Honestly I’m kinda hurt, Scar. I mean, I can understand why you didn’t tell everyone else. They’re douchebags who don’t appreciate hockey. But I’m your hockey buddy—the one who watched the Frozen Four with you in college and backed you up when you wanted to schedule our rehearsals around the NHL playoffs. You didn’t think I’d be interested to know that you’re dating one of the best players in the league?”

  Scarlett sighed guiltily. “Don’t take it personal, Gage. I just wanted to keep things private, you know? The less people know about me and Viggo, the less humiliated I’ll be if it doesn’t work out.”

  Gage’s mouth curved faintly. “We saw the pictures, Scarlett. Dude is totally into you.”

  “For now. But he’s a hockey player,” she tried to joke. “So the next puck bunny is always right around the corner.”

  Traeger frowned. “If Sandström does anything to hurt you, we’re gonna fuck him up.”

  The others nodded vigorously and grumbled their agreement.

  Their protectiveness made Scarlett want to cry. God, how she loved these boys.

  Zander rubbed his hands together. “Let’s go demolish that lasagna so we can rehearse before the show.”

  “Good idea,” Ryu said with a grin. “Our hometown fans are gonna pack the house tonight.”

  “They sure are.” Zander grinned at Scarlett. “We’re throwing a big New Year’s Eve party tonight. Lots of people are coming.”

  Scarlett tried to smile, but the thought of spending New Year’s Eve at a rowdy house party held zero appeal. She was seriously bummed that she and Viggo would be apart, not just tonight but for three more days. He had a game this evening, but they planned to ring in the New Year together on Skype. She was so looking forward to that.

  As she followed the others out of the room, she couldn’t help glancing back at the huge poster above the bed. It was pretty hot for a gag gift. She’d probably get herself off to it, coming right at the stroke of midnight while Viggo watched.

  Chapter 23

  Viggo

  Whole Lotta Love

  * * *

  The day after New Year’s, the NHL announced the four division captains for the upcoming All-Star Game in Nashville.

  The news broke as the Rebels finished morning skate and headed to the visiting locker room. They were in Columbus to play the Blue Jackets at four o’clock. Coach was giving one of his pregame pep talks when the team publicist interrupted to share the news that Viggo had been voted Central Division captain for the All-Star Game.

  The locker room erupted i
n cheers and applause.

  Viggo grinned as his teammates, coaches and trainers clapped him on the back and offered their congratulations. Dubinski and a few others jokingly sympathized with him. It was no secret that the All-Star Game wasn’t as popular as it used to be. Many players preferred to rest and relax during the All-Star break, while many fans complained that the exhibition games weren’t competitive enough. Despite all that, most players considered it an honor to make the All-Star roster. This was Viggo’s sixth selection, and he felt as humbled today as he had the first time his name was called.

  Standing in the middle of the locker room, Coach praised the team for their hard work and outstanding record to date. Then he grinned broadly and pointed his hat at Viggo.

  “You guys know I don’t get sentimental about popularity contests,” he gruffly proclaimed. “Fan voting doesn’t always reward the most deserving players. But I can say with complete confidence that Sandström earned the hell out of this honor. When the full rosters are announced in a few days, I totally expect the list to include Holden, Duchene and Brassard.”

  Supportive cheers roared through the locker room. Grinning, Viggo grabbed Reid in a headlock and playfully rubbed his hair, making him laugh.

  “This is our year of destiny, boys,” Coach went on. “We’re the team to beat. Repeat that affirmation to yourselves every night before you go to bed and every morning when you wake up. Write it on a Post-It note and stick it on your bathroom mirror. Send reminders to yourselves on your phone. We’re the fucking team to beat this year. Lord Stanley’s Cup is ours for the taking. Believe that.” He paused to look around at the faces of his players. “Now let’s go out there tonight and kick some more ass!”

  The team erupted in loud whooping and hollering. Viggo had barely stripped off his practice jersey before reporters swarmed him at his stall, shoving microphones into his face to get his reaction to being named All-Star captain.

  “Have you heard from Scarlett?” asked the lone female reporter. “Has she called to congratulate you?”

  “Uh, I don’t know,” Viggo said with a chuckle. “I just got out of morning skate, so I haven’t had a chance to check my phone yet.”

  The reporter gave him a gotcha smile. “Did you just confirm that you are dating the lead singer of Off The Grid? I mean, we’ve all seen the pictures—”

  “Then you just answered your own question, didn’t you?” Viggo drawled.

  This drew a round of snickers from the other reporters. Audrey’s uncle, standing nearby, narrowed his eyes in displeasure.

  The nosy reporter held up her phone. “Scarlett just tweeted her congrats.”

  “Yeah?” Viggo couldn’t help smiling. “Can I see that?”

  The woman was only too happy to hand over her phone.

  Scarlett had tweeted a picture of Viggo celebrating a goal against the Blackhawks. She must have taken it at Wednesday night’s game. The caption read: Congratulations on your well-deserved All-Star selection! Such a badass! #TheSwede #captainofmyheart

  Damn if that didn’t melt his heart into one big gooey puddle. He had a stupid ass grin on his face when he handed the phone back to the reporter.

  She gave him a conspiratorial grin. “It says on the band’s website that they’re performing tonight in Cincinnati. You’re not that far away—”

  “Shh.” Viggo put his finger to his lips and winked. “I wanna surprise her.”

  After the game, he was driving down to Cincinnati to attend Off The Grid’s final concert of the tour. Reid and Nadia were accompanying him. Scarlett had no idea they were coming, and he hoped to keep it that way.

  He was relieved when the other reporters started firing questions at him, steering the conversation back to hockey.

  He didn’t get to check his phone until the team headed out to lunch. He had a shit ton of messages. Scarlett had called to congratulate him. So had family members, friends, his godparents, his agent and publicist, and several players he’d befriended on other teams. He even received congratulatory texts from old acquaintances back home in Sweden. His grandfather called, but he deleted the message without listening to it.

  He sent out a grateful tweet to fans, thanking them for their votes and enthusiastic support. When women started DM’ing racy pics of them wearing his jersey, he had to log off Twitter.

  On the bus ride back to the hotel, he returned Scarlett’s call. She was on her way to rehearsal so they couldn’t talk very long. Just hearing her voice made him smile and laugh. It also got him horny. When she purringly called him Captain Sandström, he sprang a boner so fast it was ridiculous.

  As honored as he was about the All-Star stuff, he was even more excited about the evening ahead. He missed Scarlett like crazy and couldn’t wait to see her again. He couldn’t wait to watch her beautiful eyes light up, couldn’t wait to see those pouty lips curl into a smile. He couldn’t wait to touch her and hold her and make love to her again.

  As far as he was concerned, tonight couldn’t get here fast enough.

  When he got off the phone, Reid slanted him a knowing grin. “And you call me pussy-whipped.”

  Viggo pretended to clear his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Dude,” Logan retorted from his seat across the aisle, “you’re both pussy-whipped.”

  They gave him the middle finger salute, making him laugh.

  When they got back to the hotel, Nadia was in the lobby bar having drinks with Jenna Vasiliev. Their heads were bent together and they were laughing like old friends. Wives and girlfriends weren’t allowed to fly on the team plane, and their presence was generally seen as a distraction to players. But Jenna occasionally left the kids with her mother so she could attend road games and hang out with Sergei. It made him happy as a clam and kept the bunnies away.

  As Reid and Sergei started toward the bar to claim their women, Viggo headed to the elevator with some of his other teammates. On the ride up to their rooms, Logan joked about needing to take a shit, which had everyone cracking up and adding their two cents. Hockey players could always appreciate crass toilet humor.

  Viggo was still grinning when he opened the door to his room to find two half-naked women lying on his bed.

  “There you are,” they cooed seductively. “We’ve been waiting for you, Mr. All-Star Captain.”

  He wasn’t even surprised to see them. They weren’t the first bunnies to sneak into his hotel room, and they wouldn’t be the last.

  “Ladies.” Calling them that was a bit of a stretch, under the circumstances. “Should I even ask how you got in here?”

  They just giggled. One was a bleached blonde, the other a pale redhead. Both were wearing high heels and skimpy lingerie that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

  As Viggo moved from the door, the redhead purred kittenishly, “We came to help you unwind before the game.”

  “Thanks,” he said with wry amusement, “but a nap should do the trick.”

  “Seriously?” The blonde sat up, tits bouncing like overinflated water balloons. “You’d rather take a nap than have a threesome with us?”

  He knew it sounded crazy. There was a time, not too long ago, that he might have taken the girls up on their offer. But not today.

  “C’mon, big boy,” the redhead cajoled, crooking her finger at him. “Come have fun with us.”

  “Yeah, Viggo.” The blonde licked her lips and squeezed her boobs together, eyeing him suggestively. “We’ll take good care of you, handsome. Give you the All-Star treatment you deserve.”

  “I appreciate the generous offer, ladies, but I’m good. Really.” There were two skimpy dresses slung over the back of the desk chair. Viggo grabbed them and tossed one to each bunny. “Get dressed.”

  The blonde sulked. “This isn’t mine.”

  The redhead snatched the wad of fabric out of her friend’s hand and sullenly crawled out of the bed. Her black G-string barely covered her pussy, causing Viggo to avert his eyes and rub th
e back of his neck.

  Shimmying into her dress, she entreated, “Don’t you at least want a blowjob?”

  “Yeah, Viggo. Let us suck your big cock.” The blonde gave him a seductive smile. “We give the best head. It’ll totally blow your mind.”

  A dry smile played over Viggo’s lips. “I’ll have to take your word for it. Now get dressed. I’m serious.”

  The blonde grudgingly tugged on her short dress. The stretchy fabric hugged her curves like a second skin. “Where’s your roommate?”

  “Yeah,” her friend whined. “Where’s Reid?”

  “Downstairs with his fiancée.”

  The bunnies pouted. “Is she gonna be hanging around all the time now?”

  Viggo grinned. “She will if Reid gets his way.”

  The bunnies grumbled their displeasure as Viggo escorted them to the door. When the blonde tried to put her arms around his neck, he caught her upper arms and set her away from him.

  “I’m not interested.” His tone was firm, his gaze direct. “You need to leave. Both of you.”

  She pouted, near tears. “I can’t believe you’re turning us down.” She bit her lip and snuck a sidelong glance at her friend. “What if she leaves and I stay?”

  The redhead sputtered in outrage. “Seriously, bitch?”

  As they started bickering, Viggo put them out. After closing and locking the door behind them, he scrubbed a hand over his face and let out a grim chuckle. It never ceased to amaze him just how far bunnies were willing to go to bag a hockey player. It was pretty sad, and he felt a twinge of shame for not always saying no to them.

  When his phone buzzed on his hip, he pulled it out of the pocket of his sweats and looked at the screen. His mother had texted him: Do you have time to Skype before the game?

  He smiled and texted back: Call you in a sec.

  A few minutes later, he sat in front of his laptop with his legs propped up on the desk, a wide grin stretching his mouth when his mother appeared on the screen.