The Swede

by Maureen Smith

  Scarlett smiled, secretly wishing she could meet them all. “So none of your siblings are married? Engaged?”

  “Nope,” he said with a wry smile. “Much to our parents’ everlasting disappointment.”

  Scarlett chuckled. “There’s still plenty of time. You said the oldest is barely over thirty, right?”

  “Yep. Leif just turned thirty-one.” Viggo put his hand on her hip, pulling her close to stand between his legs. “You need to eat something, baby. It’s almost eleven.”

  His concern warmed her. “I’ll find something after you leave for practice. Your kitchen seems pretty well stocked.”

  He nodded, his thumb stroking the curve of her hip. “I order my groceries through the concierge. They’re delivered every two weeks since I’m only here half the time. We can make it weekly, and you can add whatever you want to the grocery list.”

  “Can I add Swedish meatballs? And Swedish Fish?”

  “Har, har.” He swatted her ass. “I was wondering how long it would take you to make one of those corny jokes.”

  “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” She grinned. “Have I lost cool points?”

  “A few. But you can earn ’em back later.”

  “Yeah?” she teased. “How?”

  He grinned wickedly, running his hand over the island countertop. The very same countertop they’d had sex on the first time he brought her home. “I have a few ideas.”

  She laughed. “I bet you do.”

  He smiled and stroked her hair, his expression softening. “Think you’ll feel up to going out to dinner tonight? You did win a date with me.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” She smiled at him, then sighed. “Dinner sounds wonderful. And I need something to help take my mind off the whole situation with my father.”

  Viggo grimaced. “I’m really sorry about all that.”

  “So am I.” Her throat tightened with renewed hurt and anger. “He really disappointed me. I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for the way he treated Lennox. I mean, I can understand him feeling stunned and shaken up. But to talk to his own son that way, when Lennox has always looked up to him and wanted to please him…”

  A flicker of pain darkened Viggo’s eyes. “Sometimes the people we love the most can hurt us the deepest.”

  “So true,” Scarlett whispered, wondering if he was thinking about his grandfather. She searched his face for a long moment, then decided to come right out and ask. “Did you and your grandfather have a falling out?”

  His gaze shifted away from her, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “I’d rather not talk about that right now.”

  She felt a catch in her throat as she stared at him. She could see the hurt he was trying to hide from her. “You can talk to me,” she whispered.

  “I know,” he said gruffly. “But you’ve got a lot on your plate right now. No need to add more. Anyway, we can pick up the rest of your things tomorrow, if you want. Your mom told me your dad will be at the office, so you don’t have to worry about running into him.”

  “Okay.” Scarlett hesitated. “I haven’t talked to my mom since I left. How…how was she?”

  “Not good,” Viggo said with a sympathetic grimace. “She told me she couldn’t sleep last night. She looked pretty miserable.”

  Scarlett shook her head sadly and sighed. “I hope she can help Dad come to his senses.”

  “I hope so, too.” Viggo gently caressed her cheek. “Recording some new music might be a good distraction for you. When are you guys heading back into the studio? You’ll have to fly back to Boston, right?”

  Her chest tightened at the reminder of her other predicament. “Um, yeah. The studio’s in Boston.”

  His eyes narrowed on her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  He didn’t believe her. She could see it in his eyes. “So when do you have to leave for Boston?”

  Before she could answer—or not answer—his phone rang. She tensed as he pulled it out of his back pocket and looked down at the screen.

  She smirked. “Let me guess. Elsa?”

  “No. It’s my agent.” He showed her the phone. Sure enough, his agent’s name was right there on the screen.

  She felt a little silly. And insecure.

  “I have to take this.” He rose from the counter, holding her gaze. “We’ll finish this convo when I get back from practice.”

  She merely nodded and sighed.

  * * *

  “It smells amazing in here.”

  Scarlett had just removed two plates from the cabinet when Viggo appeared in the kitchen doorway three hours later. She glanced over her shoulder to find him watching her with a look of tender fascination.

  It made her smile. “Perfect timing. Lunch is ready.”

  He stared at her. “You made lunch?”

  “Yep. Smothered pork chops with sautéed asparagus and rice.”

  “Holy shit.” He dropped his hockey bag on the floor and walked into the kitchen, gazing at her with undisguised appreciation. “You sing. You play the drums. You rock my fucking world. And now you’re telling me you cook, too?” He shook his head in dazed wonder. “Who are you? And what the hell took you so long to find me?”

  Scarlett laughed, her heart bumping a crazy beat. If only you knew!

  He came up behind her, wrapped his strong arms around her waist and began nuzzling her nape.

  She shivered, a blissful sigh escaping. “How was practice?”

  “Good. But I couldn’t wait for it to be over so I could hurry home to you.”

  Her belly did a backflip. “Aww…”

  “I didn’t even stick around to take a shower. I just threw on my clothes, grabbed my shit and bounced.”

  Scarlett grinned. “So you came home funky?”

  “Funky as hell. Here, get some.” He rubbed himself against her, laughing when she squealed and squirmed out of his arms.

  As he playfully stalked her, she backed away from him, warning between giggles, “Viggo Björn Sandström—”

  He laughed harder.

  Shaking her head at him, she pointed to the center island and ordered, “Go sit your butt down so I can feed you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Grinning, he moseyed over and plopped down on a stool at the counter, all long legs and boyish indolence.

  As she plated their meals, she could feel him watching her with that same fascinated intensity. One would think he’d never had a woman cook for him before. Surely a stud like him had a legion of women falling all over themselves to impress him with their culinary skills.

  And maybe they all sucked, Scarlett mused as she arranged the pork chops on a bed of rice, poured creamy gravy over them and garnished both plates with fresh parsley. After adding the sautéed asparagus, she carried the dishes to the center island and served Viggo with a dramatic flourish.

  “Wow,” he breathed, practically drooling. “This looks awesome, babe.”

  “Wait till you taste it.” She poured two glasses of fresh brewed sweet tea over ice. Then she sat on the stool beside him and picked up her fork.

  “Holy shit,” Viggo groaned after taking his first bite. “This is incredible.”

  Scarlett beamed with delight. “I’m glad you like it. It’s an old family recipe, passed down from my great-grandmother on my mom’s side.”

  “It’s amazing,” he mumbled around another mouthful.

  Scarlett forked up a bite, relieved to confirm that the pork chop was tender, juicy and perfectly flavorful.

  Viggo speared a piece of asparagus. “Thank you for this, baby. I totally wasn’t expecting you to get in the kitchen and cook, especially not when you just got here.”

  She smiled. “It’s such a cold and dreary day. I wanted some comfort food, and I figured you’d be pretty hungry after practice.”

  “Affirmative.” Stuffing more pork chop into his mouth, Viggo closed his eyes and let out another growl of pleasure. “So fucking good.”

  Scarlett giggled at the way he
was devouring her cooking. Feeding a hockey player was definitely good for the ego. “I’m so glad you had all the ingredients I needed.”

  “Me, too.” He’d almost cleaned his plate. “Like I said, add anything else you want to the grocery list, and I’ll introduce you to the concierge before I leave for my next away game.”

  “Mmmkay.” She grinned at his plate. “Want seconds?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  They ate and laughed while a cozy fire burned in the fireplace and rain drizzled outside the windows, blurring the city view. It was supposed to rain for the rest of the day, so they decided to postpone their dinner plans and just stay home and watch something on Netflix.

  After lunch they cleared away the dishes and then moved to the living room, where they could be closer to the crackling warmth of the fire.

  Once they were comfortably settled on the plush upholstered sofa, Viggo looked at Scarlett and said, “I have a proposition for you.”

  She gave him an inquisitive smile. “What?”

  He paused. “I know you guys don’t have the money to pay for studio time—”

  Her lips parted in surprise. “How do you know that? I never said—”

  “You didn’t have to. I knew something was wrong when I asked you about heading back into the studio. You wouldn’t answer me, so I assumed you guys are having some financial trouble.”

  Her chin lifted mulishly. “How do you know we’re not breaking up over the fight we had?”

  He pinned her with a direct look. “Are you?”

  She swallowed hard and lowered her gaze to her lap.

  Viggo said quietly, “I know you’re still upset with the guys for getting chummy with Myles, and I don’t blame you. They should have demolished the bastard on sight. God only knows why they didn’t. I’m at a disadvantage here, obviously, because I don’t know everything that happened in the past. What I do know is that you and your bandmates have something pretty special, both on and offstage. If you’re ready to walk away from that, let me know right now and I’ll stop talking.”

  Scarlett stared down at her lap for a long moment. “I’m not walking away.”

  Viggo gave a slow nod, absorbing her answer. “So let’s talk about that third album.”

  She tucked a curl behind her ear. “You’re right. We don’t have the money to pay for studio time.” Her pride balked at the admission. “We could record the album ourselves for much cheaper, but we’d still have to buy the equipment—”

  “And you want to put out the highest quality product with the most professional sound.” Viggo reached over and cupped her chin, turning her face toward him. “I want to cover your recording costs.”

  His words sent her heart into a tailspin. She could only stare at him, stunned speechless.

  “I know how expensive studio time can get when you start adding up the fees, and I don’t want you guys having to cut corners. I have an associate who runs a local recording studio. He really knows his stuff and he’s worked with a ton of bands, so I trust him. Obviously that means you guys would have to record your album in Denver, not Boston. But I can take care of everything so you can just focus on the music.” Viggo smiled at Scarlett, his thumb stroking her jaw. “What do you say?”

  She stared at him, her thoughts reeling. “I can’t let you pay for our studio time.”

  “Why not?” he countered. “I’m a huge fan of the band. Consider me an investor.”

  “You’ve already invested in my brother’s gym—”

  “It was a sound business decision. It had nothing to do with you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s true. Your brother and Cooper have a solid business strategy. It’s innovative and forward thinking, and they’re both committed to working hard to make the gym profitable. Reid and I expect to see a return on our investment within a few years. But even if we don’t, it was a risk we were willing to take. Plus Reid plans to open a chain of sports bars after he retires. The lessons he takes away from the gym venture—good or bad—will help him in his future business endeavors. Believe me, we both put a lot of thought into this.”

  Scarlett couldn’t help feeling tremendously impressed. “Still—”

  “Still what?”

  “You just spent fifteen grand at an auction so you wouldn’t have to go on a date with another woman.”

  “That was as much for my benefit as yours,” Viggo said with a grim chuckle. “Audrey is trouble with a massive capital T. The less interaction I have with her, the better.”

  Scarlett wholeheartedly agreed.

  “So how much do you guys need?”

  “More than I feel comfortable accepting from you.”

  “How much?” he persisted.

  She hesitated, biting her lip. “I’d rather not—”

  “Here.” He pulled out his phone, opened a new text and handed the device to her with a wry smile. “Since you can’t say the amount, text it to me.”

  Feeling somewhat foolish, Scarlett tentatively typed out the figure and sent the text, then passed the phone back to him.

  He looked at the number, gasped and clutched his chest like he was having a heart attack. “Holy shit!”

  “See! I told you—”

  He burst out laughing.

  She frowned, eyes narrowing. “What’s so funny?”

  He grinned at her. “I know how blessed I am to earn as much as I do, and I don’t take a single dime for granted.” He held up his phone. “But I make this amount in my sleep. Like, during a cat nap. Believe me, sweetheart, I won’t go bankrupt if I give you guys this money.”

  “Well, damn, Mr. Gazillionaire Athlete,” Scarlett muttered.

  “Just trying to put your mind at ease.” He smiled. “Since your bandmates would need a place to stay while they’re in town, I can ask my Realtor to find a nice rental house, and I’ll cover the rent for however long it takes you guys to finish the album.”

  “Oh my God, Viggo.” Scarlett was flabbergasted, completely stunned by his generosity. “I can’t take your money.”

  “C’mon, baby. Let me do this for you.” His words were practically a caress. “I want another album from Off The Grid. I’ll do whatever it takes to help make that happen. So just say yes.”

  Scarlett wavered, gnawing her bottom lip. His offer was way beyond generous. “I have to talk to my bandmates.”

  “Of course.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to call my publicist back and then grab a shower. Why don’t you call the guys and talk things over?”

  Scarlett nodded slowly. “I can do that.”

  “Good.” He leaned close and brushed his lips over hers, making her whole body melt.

  As he slowly pulled away, she looked deep in his eyes and whispered, “Thank you.”

  He winked at her before rising from the sofa and heading upstairs.

  She watched him go, then pulled out her phone and called Traeger.

  The phone barely rang before he picked up. “Scarlett?”

  “Who else?” she grumbled.

  “Finally!” His relief was palpable. “We were just sitting around looking at airfare. We were planning to fly out there and camp outside your house until you talked to us.”

  Her throat tightened. “Stop lying.”

  “He’s not lying!” the others shouted in the background. “We fucking miss you, ScarWar!”

  Tears pricked her eyelids. “Dammit.”

  “It’s true, Scarlett,” Traeger said earnestly. “What do we have to do to convince you to take us back?”

  “Let’s Skype,” she said gruffly. “I need to see your damn faces when you grovel.”

  Traeger laughed. “Call me right back.”

  “Fine.” She hung up and headed to the kitchen where she’d left her laptop on the counter while she was cooking. She carried it to the center island, hopped onto a stool and logged into Skype. After locating Traeger’s name in her contacts, she hit the Video Call button.

&
nbsp; Seconds later she saw her bandmates huddled anxiously around Traeger’s computer screen.

  “Hey, Scarlett,” they greeted her warmly.

  “Hey.” She sounded grumpy.

  “We’re really sorry about what happened back in Cincinnati,” Gage said meekly. “We didn’t mean to offend you. Can you forgive us?”

  “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I mean, are you guys apologizing because you want me to ask my father for another loan—”

  “No!” they insisted vehemently. “You know it’s not like that!”

  Tears clogged her throat. “You guys really hurt my fucking feelings.”

  Four contrite faces stared back at her. “We’re so sorry, Scarlett.”

  She swiped the back of her hand under her runny nose and sniffled. “I know I’ve always been the den mother, the one who looks out for everyone and takes care of everything. And you’ve always seen me as just one of the guys, you know, because I burp and fart around you. Because I can do as many shots as you. Because I know taekwondo and can probably kick all your asses at the same time. You think I’m tough as nails and everything just rolls off my back. But I can be just as vulnerable as everyone else, and I think sometimes you guys forget that.”

  They exchanged remorseful looks and mumbled, “We don’t mean to.”

  “I know you don’t.” She looked them over and sighed. “You guys know I don’t have that many female friends. You’re my best friends. If I ever lose my mind and decide to get married, my bridal party will pretty much consist of Nadia, Lennox and the four of you. That’s how much you mean to me. So, yeah, I need your loyalty. And, yeah, I expect you to have my back when it counts. ’Cause you know what? I always have yours.”

  “You do,” Gage agreed. “We wouldn’t be doing the collab with Black Kross if you hadn’t fought for us. That’s how you’ve always rolled.”

  “And we love you for it,” Traeger said fiercely. “So you know what? Fuck the band. If you want us to go our separate ways, I’ll be furious and miserable as hell. But I won’t stop you if that’s what you really want. All I ask is that you don’t throw our friendship away. Our friendship is the most important thing in my life. Seriously. You guys have been more family to me than my own fucking parents. I need—” His voice choked off and he dropped his head.