Stockholm Diaries, Caroline 2

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Stockholm Diaries, Caroline 2 Page 5

by Rebecca Hunter


  “What exactly is ‘this’ and how soon is it coming?” she asked.

  Niklas looked down at the floor and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Would she rather split up here and avoid any of Niklas’s public side? Caroline tried to imagine arriving back in Detroit alone, staying away from him in public, sneaking into his house just for a night together. She shivered. No. Cutting him off would feel worse.

  Niklas continued to watch her.

  Caroline attempted a smile. “If we have any hope of working this out, I need to give this part a try, too.”

  Niklas nodded, but his face remained closed. “I’ve seen other players and their wives get burned. It won’t be easy.”

  Caroline gave him a little nod. She had no experience with how it felt to be on the other end of the camera lens, but she did understand the value of a good photo, both for money and for a career. The first shot of breaking news was worth everything.

  The newest twists in Niklas’s career—and his private life—had the potential to become front-page news in the hockey world, whether they wanted it or not.

  “I’m ready,” she whispered. “Trial by fire, right?”

  Finally, the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as they stepped through the doors.

  “Yep. Trial by fire it is.”

  Walking into the baggage claim area felt a bit anticlimactic. Caroline wasn’t sure what she expected – blinding flashes of camera bulbs as they stepped out of the gate? Crowds swarming the two of them? Niklas’s hulking form earned them a few stares, despite the baseball cap and sunglasses, but no one said anything as they walked over to find their bags. She spotted a guy in a Red Wings t-shirt stepping up to the luggage carousel and quickly turned away. The sooner they got out of there, the better.

  Caroline looked down at her travel-ragged clothes, washed too many times in sinks around the world. Her hair was a mess of dark waves, and she had run out of make-up weeks ago. None of these things had mattered to her until they stepped into Niklas’s world, with the threat of public exposure lurking around each new corner.

  Niklas held her hand tightly in his as they greeted the grey Michigan skies.

  “Should we get a cab?” she asked.

  Niklas shook his head and scanned the long strip of roads outside the arrivals area. Before he had a chance to speak, a large black car with darkened windows pulled up.

  “This is ours,” he said, squeezing her hand.

  “You have a driver?”

  Niklas smirked. “Not a personal driver, if that’s what you mean. But I always use the same guy. It’s… easier that way.”

  She raised her eyebrows at him. She was definitely entering a new world, despite the fact that this was her hometown.

  “To think I managed to get through my entire life in Michigan without needing an on-call driver.”

  He took off his sunglasses and stepped closer, towering over her.

  “You’re going to tease me about this? How about ‘thanks for arranging a ride for us’?”

  She rested her head against his chest and sighed.

  “Thank you, Niklas.”

  She felt his lips on the top of her head, but the unabashed stares around them took any pleasure of the moment away.

  “Hey, Niklas Almquist, right? Can I get a picture of you?”

  The voice came from behind them, and Caroline knew who it was without turning around. Of course the guy with the Red Wings t-shirt would recognize Niklas.

  Niklas’s arms tensed around her, but none of the tension showed in his voice when he spoke.

  “How about one of you and me, buddy?” asked Niklas, maneuvering Caroline away from him. “She can take it for you.”

  “Thanks, man,” said the guy, smiling.

  Caroline tried to steady her hands as she took the phone from the guy and aimed its camera at the two men. Despite the fact that she had seen this guy earlier, his approach had still thrown her off. Niklas clearly had enough experience in this area to handle it, but Caroline wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse. Next time, she’d be ready.

  She took the photo and gave the phone back, but Niklas kept the guy’s attention the whole time, shaking his hand and discussing last year’s season. The driver loaded their luggage into the trunk as the scene unfolded and was now holding open the door for Caroline to climb in. This guy also knew what he was doing.

  Niklas said goodbye to the fan, shook hands with the driver, and climbed into the car. He wordlessly tugged her into the middle seat, and after she fastened her seatbelt, he pulled her closer. He set her hand on his thigh and covered it with his. She decided not to comment on the encounter—one glance at him told her he was having enough trouble dealing with the present as it was.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. “I’ll be better prepared for that next time.”

  “No. I’ll be ready.”

  They floated along the highway in silence as Caroline took in the rural, green landscape of forest and grass. Neither she nor Niklas said a word. He kept his gaze out the window, his fingers woven through hers.

  This wasn’t the direction to her own home, and part of her craved the familiar landscape of concrete and aging brick houses, separated by patches of overgrown grass. Southfield Highway certainly wasn’t the most picturesque entry into Michigan, but after months away, even the seventies-era high rises had their appeal.

  Niklas squeezed her hand.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stop at your parents’ place first?”

  She shook her head.

  “I need a little time to adjust to being here. With you. I told them we’d be there for dinner.”

  He raised his eyebrows, and she swallowed hard.

  “But you don’t have to go,” she added quickly. “I can just, you know, find a cab or some—”

  “Caroline, I’d love to go,” he cut in. “I’m just surprised. I thought you hadn’t told them about me.”

  She looked down at her hand, buried under his.

  “I haven’t really,” she whispered. “I just said I was bringing someone. I think it’s better that way.”

  Caroline could feel his eyes on her, but she didn’t look up. Her parents saw her trip this summer as a last fling before marriage to Brad, not a break for independence. The last thing they’d expect is for her to bring home another man. The fact that she was staying at his house? Much worse. Better if her father met him first, then pieced together the story, so he didn’t write Niklas off from the start. After all, Niklas could be charming when he wanted to be.

  Niklas lifted his other hand to her face and coaxed it up towards his.

  “Okay, if that’s what you want,” he said, stroking her cheek, “but sometimes you put off hard discussions because they’re hard, not because it’s better that way, remember?”

  She winced at the comment. His voice was gentle, but the words hit her hard. She had done the same thing to him in Stockholm, and he was reminding her that it had hurt him, too. She tried to look away, but he didn’t let her. He tilted his head down for just a hint of a kiss.

  “I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through,” he said.

  She nodded a little.

  “I have,” she said, kissing him back. At least she thought she had.

  “Okay, trial by fire it is,” he whispered, chuckling.

  Chapter 4

  THE CAR PULLED up in front of a low, mid-century modern home in the middle of Bloomfield Hills, and Caroline stepped out. She had never actually been inside a house in Bloomfield Hills, but she had heard the name of this area since childhood. The rich area of town. But as she sized up the unassuming one-story, made of dark wood and stone, she let out a sigh. Not ostentatious. Not flashy. If anything, understated. Warm. Hidden behind towering oaks and pines.

  Damn. It would have been easier if she had hated the place. If he had lived in one of those plantation-like manors behind gua
rded gates. Maybe then she’d be able to resist the temptation of dreaming of a future together in Michigan—a future that probably wouldn’t happen. Warming up to his house would be one more ingredient in the messy negotiations they were headed toward at the end of the week.

  The car backed out of the long driveway, leaving them alone. Niklas came up from behind and slipped his arms around her waist.

  “What do you think?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.

  “Beautiful. It looks like a home. But I thought you said it was much too big for you.”

  “You’ll see what I mean.”

  He took her hand, and they walked up to the door. But before he stuck in his key, he turned to face her.

  “I’ve imagined this moment every time I thought about Detroit.”

  His voice was low and soft. She squeezed his hand, and he looked at her with clouded blue eyes.

  “Are you ready?”

  She nodded, and he pushed open the door.

  Whoa.

  What she had registered as unassuming from the outside was anything but that from her current vantage point. The small, one-story she had seen from the driveway was an illusion. The house was built on a slope, and even from the doorway Caroline could see that only a small portion had been visible from the front. The hallway opened up to a large room with wood floors, white walls and a few scattered pieces of furniture.

  Caroline’s gaze moved beyond the room itself to the long panels of glass that formed the opposite wall of the house. Through the windows, Niklas’s long yard ended in a wide, blue lake. The water sparkled in the afternoon sun, still and inviting. Enough tall trees stood along the borders of his yard to block out any other signs of civilization. Just Niklas and her and the beautiful lake in front of them. And she hadn’t even entered the first room.

  Damn. This was even more tempting than she had thought.

  Caroline now understood where Bloomfield Hills got its reputation. What had she expected? Gaudy pseudo-castles, spilling over the sides of the lots? Whatever she had expected, this wasn’t it. She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to process the idea that she’d be staying here with Niklas.

  She must have stood in the entry hall for a while. Her fingers ache from squeezing his hand. She released his hand and flexed her own a couple times. She glanced up at him. His mouth pulled down into a tight frown.

  “What is it? If this is too much, we can figure something—”

  “Niklas,” she cut in. “I love it.”

  His eyes widened. “You do?”

  “What’s not to love about this place?”

  Caroline slipped off her shoes and walked across the large, bare room, over to the windows.

  Niklas followed, stopping behind her, their bodies almost touching.

  “It’s not too much?”

  Caroline laughed.

  “It is. Back on the highway, I was pretty sure I’d hate it. The whole area has a reputation for showy wealth. All the kids around here go to private schools and belong to country clubs, that kind of thing. But this…”

  She gestured out beyond the window and looked up at Niklas.

  “It’s beautiful. Now I get why someone would want to live here. It feels a million miles away from everything else.”

  She turned and put her arms around his neck. Finally, the corners of Niklas’s mouth turned up. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly.

  “Good,” he said, starting to laugh. “Thank God.”

  He picked her up and spun her around slowly, laughing harder. Caroline held onto his neck, burying her face in his chest. He put her down.

  “I want to be here with you,” he whispered.

  She nodded into his chest, trying to quiet the danger warning in her mind. Don’t let yourself get too comfortable here.

  “There’s nowhere else I want to be, Niklas,” she said, burying her hands in his hair. This was the truth. “Even if I hated the house, I still couldn’t resist being here with you right now.”

  “We’ll figure this out, Caroline.”

  She nodded and tried to look hopeful.

  Niklas unwrapped his large arms from around her and led her down the hallway, peeking inside a guest room and a small bathroom. He opened up the last door to an office, almost bare, with a sleek, thin desk next to the long wall of glass, facing the water.

  “I thought you could work here,” he said, resting his hand on her back. “I rarely use it.”

  Caroline smiled.

  “An office just for show? To impress the women with your intellectual side?”

  Niklas snorted.

  “Right.”

  But his eyes darkened as he registered the comment. He guided her gaze up to his face and said, “Caroline, I never bring women here. Only you.”

  Caroline let out her breath and smiled. Why did those words feel so good? She had to wonder why she still craved reassurance that what they had together was different from his past.

  “Thank you, Niklas,” she whispered. “I’d love to work here.”

  Again she saw relief in his smile. She traced her fingers over the thick muscles of his arm and found his hand. He lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips over her knuckles, but he didn’t say anything.

  They walked back down the hall, past the living room where they had started and into the kitchen. The room was bright and airy, much like the living room, with sleek lines and empty surfaces, straight out of a design catalogue. It looked untouched. Caroline let go of Niklas’s hand and began opening the cabinet doors. Most of the shelves were empty. She found a few lonely pots and pans, an expensive-looking thin white dishware set, a handful of silverware and a waffle iron. She picked this last item up and showed it to him. He leaned against the entryway to the kitchen, hands in his pockets, silently watching her.

  “You have one appliance in this kitchen, and it’s a waffle iron?”

  Niklas smiled. “I like waffles.”

  “More than coffee?”

  “I thought I had a coffeemaker somewhere in here.”

  Niklas took his hands out of his pockets and stepped into the room, brow furrowed. He opened a few empty cabinets before he pulled out a bulky black machine from the dark recesses of the corner shelves. Caroline wouldn’t have recognized it.

  “Voila,” he said, dusting it off.

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “You know how to use that thing?”

  “Of course,” he grinned. “Coffee for the lady?”

  Actually, coffee sounded delicious. “Yes, please.”

  He even found the coffee beans on the first try. He loaded up the machine and turned to the fridge.

  “We have food, too. The housekeeper stocked it this morning,” he said over his shoulder as he pulled out the milk.

  “The housekeeper?”

  He turned around.

  “What? You don’t like a clean house?” he joked.

  The idea of someone else coming into this home, stepping into his private life, their private life, made her shiver.

  “Do you have any other… services?”

  Niklas frowned.

  “Well, there’s someone who takes care of the lawn once a week. And some other business-related people, but I don’t think that’s what you’re talking about. You don’t like the housekeeper thing?”

  “It feels a little strange.”

  Why did it make her uncomfortable? Every day of the last months she had been waited on in restaurants, and housekeepers had cleaned the hotel rooms she stayed in. But somehow all that felt different from the idea of someone coming here, to this retreat from the rest of the world. Which wasn’t hers. This house was Niklas’s sanctuary—not hers.

  Niklas poured a little milk into her coffee and brought it over to the island counter where she was standing. He lifted her up onto the counter, nudged open her legs and stepped in between. They were almost the same height this way, and if she leaned
forward just a few inches, her lips would touch his.

  “The housekeeper comes twice a week. She brings groceries, cleans, does the laundry and fixes a meal.”

  She tried to keep her voice light. “Just twice a week? In this kitchen?”

  The corners of his mouth quirked up a little.

  “It’s usually not this bare. I fix my own meals, believe it or not, but I sent a bunch of stuff to Sweden, remember?”

  Caroline gave him a real smile this time. How could she forget the wooden spoon and spatula from their first encounter? He rested both hands on her thighs, gently stroking her with his thumbs.

  “Back to the housekeeper thing. If you really don’t like the idea, she doesn’t have to come. But I’m not much for cleaning or laundry, and you’ve already told me you’re not either.”

  Caroline sipped her coffee as his hands slid up to her waist.

  “We’ll figure something out, but let’s keep her until then,” he said, moving a little closer. After their conversation in the airport, he didn’t seem to want to discuss the future.

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  Just having his body so near made her voice come out a little breathless. His eyes widened, sensing her shift in mood. He glanced down at the cup in her hand.

  “Finished with your coffee?” he asked, his voice huskier. “I still haven’t shown you the bedroom.”

  She set down her mug.

  “I think I’m ready now,” she said, bringing her hands around his neck so their mouths were almost touching. “Take me to your bedroom.”

  He chuckled and lifted her off the counter for a soft, lingering kiss.

  “This way,” he said, tugging gently at her hand, his voice low and inviting.

  He led her down a short stairway onto a landing, lit by skylights. The staircase itself turned and continued down to the bottom level, but Niklas stopped on the landing and reached for a door Caroline had assumed was a closet.

  “What’s down there?” she asked, pointing down the rest of the staircase.

  “A home theater and a workout room.”

  Of course it would be something decadent like that. She peered down, but Niklas rested his hand on the curve of her lower back and said, “Later.”

 

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