Stockholm Diaries, Caroline 2

by Rebecca Hunter

  She leaned her head on his shoulder and felt the stubble of his jaw under her fingertips.

  “I’ll be okay,” she said.

  “I know you will,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean you won’t get hurt, too. And it makes me mad as hell that he’d try to do that to you.”

  Chapter 10

  THE LATE SUMMER air was warm and humid the next day as Niklas’s convertible wound through the back roads, towards civilization. Niklas didn’t have practice, and she hadn’t heard back about the job yet. They were free.

  Niklas turned the car in the direction of her Detroit. The area grew more familiar as the hilly estates turned into suburban blocks and businesses. Caroline took a deep breath of Michigan air. Her relief at being back on familiar ground, hearing English again and being able to read road signs hadn’t waned yet, though Niklas said it probably would in a couple weeks.

  “Turn here,” she said, pointing down the enormous boulevard.

  Niklas peeled out onto Woodward Avenue. After a couple blocks, she pointed him into the parking lot of a 1950s-style diner she hadn’t driven past in at least ten years. He turned off the car and rested his hand on her thigh in a move that felt more intimate than sexual.

  “This was your high school hangout?” he asked.

  “My friends used to come here on Friday nights sometimes. To maybe get a glimpse of those elusive Bloomfield Hills guys.”

  Niklas’s face brightened. “Really? Am I getting some insight into your secret past?”

  Caroline snorted. “It’s hardly secret.”

  “You don’t talk much about it.”

  “You never really asked.”

  He turned and studied her for a moment.

  “I’m asking you now, älskling,” he said. “Come on, take me on a tour.”

  As far as she could tell, the diner hadn’t changed at all since her last visit, which she supposed made sense, given the 1950s theme. The neon signs and shiny metal exterior brought on a new wave of nostalgia.

  But as she stepped out of the car, Caroline stiffened. Her fear was sudden and irrational. Still, she couldn’t help but glance around the parking lot. A few cars. No cameras. What was she expecting? An entourage of press following them around Detroit? Would she look over her shoulder every time they went out together?

  Caroline shut the car door and tried to push the thought out of her mind.

  Niklas opened the door of the diner, and the scent of vinyl seats and greasy fries wafted out. Out of the corner of her eye, Caroline saw Niklas watching her.

  “Where do we sit?” he asked.

  “You mean where did I sit when I used to come here?”

  He nodded.

  “Over there.”

  She pointed to a horseshoe-shaped booth in the corner.

  “Not the counter?” he asked, pointing to the short stretch of sparkly Formica. “I was hoping you’d say you sat on one of those stools and sipped milkshakes.”

  Caroline rolled her eyes. “I think you’re mistaking my life for some ‘50s movie you saw. But we can sit at the counter if you want to indulge your fantasies.”

  Niklas laughed.

  “Not even the milkshake part was right?” he asked.

  “I did order a few milkshakes,” she conceded. “But I was more of a fries girl.”

  “I see.” He furrowed his brow and nodded in an exaggerated show of interest.

  “Enough,” she said, swatting him on the arm. “Let’s sit down.”

  She chose a stool, and Niklas slid in beside her. Their waitress materialized immediately, eyes fixed on Niklas with a smile just for him. Caroline sighed a little louder than she had meant to at the young woman in her low-cut uniform. She still hadn’t gotten used to this part of being with such a physically impressive man, and she wasn’t sure she ever would.

  Niklas turned in time to catch her frown before she looked back down at her menu. He rested his hand on her thigh and leaned over to kiss her. It wasn’t an explicit kiss, just a brush of his lips against hers, but his message was clear. Only you, his lips seemed to whisper.

  The waitress’s voice cut into Caroline’s thoughts. “Anything to drink?”

  “You ready?” asked Niklas, eyes still intent on her.

  Caroline nodded.

  “Chocolate milkshake and a side of fries, please,” she said to the waitress.

  Niklas grinned at her order.

  “And for you?” the waitress asked, turning to Niklas. Her voice sounded more impatient than seductive this time.

  “Big Breakfast, side of fries and a vanilla milkshake, please.”

  The waitress nodded and walked away.

  “That’s all?” asked Caroline, raising an eyebrow. “No dessert?”

  “Funny,” he said. “Get used to it. When I’m playing regularly, I can out-eat anyone here. And there are some big guys in this place.”

  He glanced around the room at the afternoon clientele.

  “Lovely,” said Caroline, rolling her eyes. “Very impressive.”

  Niklas squeezed her thigh in its most ticklish spot, and she let out a little yelp.

  “That makes you mad?” he asked, his face growing more serious. He gestured to the waitress, standing at the milkshake machine.

  Caroline knew what he meant—other women who approached him, who flirted with him as if she wasn’t standing there next to him.

  She shook her head.

  “What is it?” he asked softly. “You know I’m not interested in anyone else.”

  “Yes, I know that,” she said.

  “Then what?”

  Caroline considered his question.

  “I’m not exactly sure. Maybe it’s that I feel like I always have to be on guard when we go out. Or maybe it’s just jealousy,” she said, smiling a little. “Maybe I’m worried that one of these days some sweet young thing will capture your attention, even for a few minutes. And where would that leave me?”

  Niklas frowned deeply, and he was quiet for a while.

  “Caroline, we’ve spent every day of the last months together. I hope you understand that I’m not just looking for a hot woman to fuck. You have to give me more credit than that.”

  She shuddered at the image his words conjured, but she said nothing.

  Niklas glanced over at her and sighed. He ran his hand through his thick, blond hair so it stood on end. As she smoothed the most offensive pieces, his expression softened.

  “I guess I get it, at least a little bit. I was jealous as hell in Italy,” he said, looking down. “We split up at the market, and I came back to find two Italian men fondling melons with you.”

  Caroline laughed.

  “So you put your hands on my ass and kissed me like you were going to take my clothes off right there,” she finished.

  Niklas spun her stool around so she faced him. He rested his hands on her thighs and kneaded gently.

  “So maybe you should do the same to me a little more often,” he whispered, moving closer.

  The waitress brought their milkshakes, and they turned back to face the counter. Caroline swirled her straw around and took a long, slow sip. She gave a pleasure sigh, and Niklas stared at her with heated eyes.

  They drank their milkshakes to the clatter of forks and glasses around them. This was what traveling together had been like. Just the two of them, slowly discovering each other and all the details around them. Yes, this felt right.

  “In a list of things I’ll miss if I leave the U.S., I think good milkshakes are probably at the top.”

  Caroline’s hand froze, mid-stir. If he left. The idea sunk cold and deep in her gut before she had a chance to prepare for it. The moment she pushed their impending decisions out of her mind, he brought her straight back to them.

  No. Today she was looking for a little respite. Caroline searched for something to say to steer them back to friendlier territory.

  “So while I was over here s
ipping milkshakes, what were you doing with your teenage years?”

  Niklas shrugged. “Nothing exciting. Hockey, school…”

  “… girls,” added Caroline.

  Niklas snorted. “Not as often as I’d have liked. I wasn’t always such a charmer. As you may have noticed.”

  Caroline laughed. “You mean when you slammed your door in my face back in Stockholm? More than once?”

  “And I was interested as hell in you,” he said, smiling. “You can imagine just how smooth I was with the girls I wasn’t as interested in.”

  Caroline twirled her milkshake with her straw and took another sip. She knew so little about his past. What did he and his friends do on the weekends? What else did he dream of besides hockey? Was she really entertaining the idea of running away to Sweden with a man whose hometown she couldn’t even pronounce?

  She tried for her best interview face. “Okay. Charming the ladies, getting into fights on the hockey rink… what else? What about school?”

  “I went to a hockey high school.”

  Caroline raised an eyebrow. “Is that a joke? Do hockey high schools really exist?”

  “Of course,” he said, mock offended. “They have to separate meat-heads like me from the rest of the teenagers to keep everyone out of trouble.”

  “Did it work?”

  The corners of Niklas’s mouth turned up, and he gestured down the length of his body. “I made it out in one piece. That’s something.”

  Caroline smiled. “But what else were you interested in? If you hadn’t made it onto that Swedish hockey team after college, what would you have done?”

  Niklas’s smile grew wider. “Gotten into a hell of a lot more trouble. That’s for sure.”

  Caroline crossed her arms. “Come on. Give me a little insight.”

  “All right,” he said quietly. “If I didn’t play hockey, I might have been a biologist.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really?”

  “What?” he said, turning red. “I actually did really well in science and math back in school.”

  She set her hand on his. “I was just surprised at the choice, that’s all. I’m sure you would have been great at stomping after wildlife in the Swedish tundra.”

  He turned over his hand and threaded his fingers with hers. “Swedish tundra, huh? And then I’d come back to our log cabin in the evening, and you could warm me up the old-fashioned way—naked, by the fire, on top of reindeer pelts.”

  “Hmm… interesting fantasy. But I have to admit the scene has its charms.” Caroline giggled. “Would your mother have preferred a biologist?”

  Niklas laughed and shook his head. “My mother was happy I reached my twenties without a record. High expectations, right?”

  Caroline smiled a little. “And your father?”

  Niklas frowned. “My father lost his say in what I did when he left us.”

  In all their time together over the last few months, Niklas had stayed away from the topic of his father, a wound in Niklas’s life that he showed little desire to heal.

  But today, they could be free of all these other pieces of their lives. He clearly didn’t want to discuss the hole his father’s abandonment had left, and Caroline decided not to push it.

  The waitress brought their plates, forcing them to move their hands to make room for the food. She let her gaze linger on Niklas.

  “Anything else?” she drawled.

  This woman was not going to ruin Caroline’s lunch. Niklas’s words from their discussion of the Italian men came back to her: Maybe you should do the same to me a little more often. Maybe she should.

  “He’s doing just fine, aren’t you Niklas?” she said. She leaned across the counter to steal one of his fries, deliberately giving him a view down the front of her shirt. She straightened up and took a slow bite. His gaze wandered from her chest up to her mouth. She licked her lips, and his mouth fell open a little.

  “You’re all set, aren’t you Niklas?” she asked, smiling.

  Niklas gave his head a little shake. “Yep. I sure am.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Caroline watched the waitress retreat.

  “You are trouble,” he groaned, before breaking into a laugh.

  “It was your suggestion,” she said innocently. “‘Maybe you should do the same to me a little more often,’ remember?”

  Niklas turned to his eggs and took a bite. “You sure you want to up the game like that? Because you know how much I like to win.”

  “WHERE ARE WE going now?” asked Caroline.

  Niklas squeezed her knee. “It’s my turn to choose, so sit back and relax.”

  He drove for another few minutes before he pointed at the sign ahead: Birmingham Ice Sports Arena.

  “Didn’t I just watch you skate a couple days ago?” she asked.

  “Watch me?” he chuckled. “No, älskling, you’re getting out there with me.”

  Caroline shook her head.

  “On skates? You’re crazy.”

  Niklas parked the car and gave her an amused smirk. “You could try shoes, but I think it might make things harder.”

  “You know what I mean,” she said, swatting him on the leg.

  “Yep. You mean, ‘Please take me skating, Niklas.’” He got out of the car and pulled a bag out of the trunk. “Look—I even brought you a coat and gloves.”

  “Gee, thanks,” she said dryly.

  The arena was almost empty for open skate. Caroline scanned the room to see if anyone recognized Niklas, but if they did, they didn’t let on. She laced up her skates absently, trying to figure out how to preserve a little of her self-respect on the ice rink.

  “Not even close to tight enough,” laughed Niklas, gesturing down at her lacing job. “You’re going to wobble right out of your skates. Can I help?”

  She sighed and nodded.

  He kneeled in front of her and took his time untying her own work and then crisscrossing the laces until he reached the top. After he finished, he rested his large, warm hands on her thighs and looked up at her.

  “Too tight or okay?” he asked.

  She tried to wiggle her feet a little, but Niklas had thoroughly trussed them.

  “I’ll tell you if I lose feeling in my toes.”

  “Good,” he said, giving Caroline a sporty, go-get-‘um pat on her legs. “Let’s get on the ice.”

  He got to his feet and stretched. He grabbed the sweatshirt he had stuffed in the duffel bag and pulled it on, his shirt riding up a little to show a hint of the flexing muscles underneath. She licked her lips and forced her eyes up. He offered her a hand, and she took it.

  Caroline hadn’t skated in years. She could feel Niklas close behind as she wobbled toward the little door to enter the rink. She braced herself for the first step, but the slick ice seemed to move under her feet.

  “You have skated before, haven’t you?” he said in her ear. “I don’t think I ever actually asked.”

  She turned and gave him what she hoped was a withering look. This was the moment she wanted more than anything to shine. She had a brief fantasy of letting go of his hand and skating away for a double axel. Right now, she wanted to surprise him. She wanted it badly. Maybe in the years since she last laced up her skates she had somehow gotten better.

  Unfortunately, skating didn’t seem to work that way. She took a tentative step that gave her a few inches of glide.

  “Of course I’ve skated,” she said. “Michigan native, remember? It’s just been a while.”

  He put his arms up in mock surrender. “Okay. Got it.”

  Of course, it was at this moment that she lost her balance. She stumbled back, arms flailing. Niklas grabbed her waist to right her, and one of her hands landed just next to his groin.

  “Nice idea, älskling,” he said dryly, “but maybe you can save it for when we’re a little more private.”

  She removed her hand and glanced over her shoulder to glare at
him. And slipped again. Arrg.

  He righted her again.

  “Easy, girl,” he chuckled.

  “I’m not a horse,” she snorted, pushing away his hands. “Just give me a minute. Do a couple laps or something so I can gather my dignity.”

  Niklas gave her a skeptical look, but he let go. And she didn’t even fall.

  “No head injuries while I’m gone,” he said, gliding away effortlessly.

  “Thanks for the encouragement,” she called after him.

  She actually could skate. Or at least she could back in middle school. Just like riding a bike, right? Caroline took another wary step, trying to ignore the fact that Niklas was undoubtedly watching her. You can do this.

  She leaned forward, took two more baby steps and then pushed off for a glide. This time, the glide lasted long enough for her to step again. She was skating. Steps turned to strides, still a little wobbly, but at least she was moving now. She made it around the turn and caught sight of Niklas, arms crossed, resting against the boards, watching her with what looked like amusement. Damn, that man had an arrogant streak. Sometimes she found it funny, but right now…

  She waved and smiled, but the sarcasm behind her gestures might have been lost across the rink. He waved back.

  And that was enough to throw her off. She stumbled but caught herself before falling this time. She could feel Niklas’s eyes on her, but she forced herself not to look. Shit. No wonder Niklas had been punched in the nose more than once. She might just have to try it herself. If she could just make it around the rink.

  Caroline started again, turning smaller steps into strides until she felt the movements all coming back. She glided around the other end of the ice, a little faster now and headed back toward Niklas.

  Don’t fall. Don’t fall.

  His smile broadened as she approached. Caroline gritted her teeth.

  “Impressive,” he said, pushing off from the boards and gliding toward her.

  “That I made it around the rink?” she said dryly. “Such high standards you have for me.”

  “It’s a pleasure watching you skate.”

  Was he mocking her? Again?

  “Enough,” she snapped.

  Niklas’s eyes widened, and he stopped just out of arms reach, which was probably a wise decision.