He smirked. “The Catholic part?”
She smiled a little. “That, and everyone else who thinks women aren’t supposed to be into sex.”
He let go and pushed her wet hair off her face.
“Who says that?” he asked gently.
“This whole country, practically.”
Niklas laughed. “You know I’m going to tell you that’s another reason to move to Sweden, don’t you?”
He squeezed her thighs gently and rested his forehead against hers. “What we do together is just between us, Caroline. You make me feel incredible, and by some miracle, I think I make you feel good, too. That’s no one’s business but ours.”
She smiled. Maybe this was a cultural difference. When she was in Stockholm, Veronica had told her that Swedes were much less embarrassed about sex than North Americans. But Caroline wasn’t sure that was the whole explanation. Niklas was different than anyone she had met anywhere.
Niklas’s voice rumbled again in her ear. “Because you or I like certain things during sex, are you worried that this means we want the same things in the rest of our relationship? Or maybe we will sometime in the future?”
Caroline leaned back a little to absorb the surprise of having her psyche, so nebulous to her, so neatly summed up.
“Yep, I guess that’s it,” she chuckled.
Niklas smiled a little, but he didn’t laugh. Instead he let his hands brush down her shoulders and arms until they arrived at her hands. He slid both of his palms under hers in an open gesture.
“Caroline, let’s just think about our relationship for a moment,” he said, his bright blue eyes intense and open. “Have I ever tried to push you into anything?”
“I guess not.”
He squeezed her hands.
“There have been things that I’ve wanted,” he said, “like you staying here in this house with me. But I don’t think I’ve tried to force anything on you.”
Caroline snorted. “I probably would have run the other way if you did.”
“I know that,” said Niklas. “I know you were in the middle of taking your life into your own hands when I came along, and I want that for you, too.”
He leaned forward and let his lips press against hers. He moved back only a fraction to speak again.
“And that’s not going to change just because you’re staying at my house or because you want to suck me off in my car. Which has been on my mind ever since you mentioned it, by the way.”
“I can’t imagine,” she said dryly, smiling.
Chapter 13
CAROLINE RESTED HER head on her hand, staring at the computer screen in front of her. The New Hampshire job was hers, and the guy she had talked to on the phone wanted her to start as soon as she could. This week, if possible. The decision she had hoped to avoid now stared her in the face: Did she take the perfect job for her budding career, or did she set it aside for the man she couldn’t bear to leave?
If she turned it down, she certainly wouldn’t get any jobs from them in the future. Nor could she ask Jess for any more leads. Besides, the assignment would only take a month or so. Was she so swept up in Niklas that she couldn’t stay away from him for a month? Jobs like this didn’t come by often. But neither did relationships like this.
Caroline sighed. Less than an hour ago, she had stood in the doorway to the garage, kissing Niklas like some desperate, heartsick teenager as the minutes before his practice ticked down. She didn’t want to let him go. On their trip they had spent hours apart—her, taking photos of a subject for her articles, and him, doing push-ups or… well, doing whatever hockey players did to stay in shape. She should probably ask him about that at some point.
But along the way, the question of their future hadn’t taken over every parting the way it seemed to now. Caroline could feel the urgency of the coming decisions push into all of their conversations, into the way Niklas kissed her or the way she clung to his shirt and breathed in the scent of him before he walked out the door.
The one person who might actually understand all of this sat in an apartment halfway across the world. Veronica.
Back in Stockholm, Caroline had seen the way Veronica and Filip made each other happy. Despite the fact that Veronica lived an ocean away from her family and the place where she grew up, she had made a life for herself in Sweden. A good life. Just to be with Filip.
Caroline looked at the time on the screen of her phone. Ten o’clock. Four in the afternoon in Sweden, if her math was correct. If she remembered right from this last summer, Veronica would be cleaning up from a day of painting. Soon, she’d start answering her phone again.
Caroline stood up and stretched, heading for the kitchen. She rummaged around the refrigerator, looking for a snack. It was strange not to do her own grocery shopping, to simply open the door to a fridge full of surprises. But the mysterious housekeeper seemed to know Niklas’s tastes quite well; the freezer even held a bag of frozen Swedish meatballs from IKEA.
The front door slammed, jolting Caroline out of her mental wanderings. Niklas wasn’t due back for hours—unless something had gone wrong. She closed the refrigerator door and headed for the front hall.
“Niklas?” she called. “Are—”
She stopped. In front of her stood a young woman, all blond hair and bare, tanned legs, surrounded by grocery bags.
The woman let out a little yelp, her arms instinctively covering the cleavage her low-cut tank-top revealed. She relaxed immediately at the sight of Caroline.
“God, you scared me,” the woman said with a huff. “I didn’t realize Mr. Almquist had other help. You do speak English, don’t you?”
The woman’s question was breezy and dismissive, and Caroline wasn’t sure where to start with being offended.
“My English is just fine, thanks,” said Caroline. “I’m Mr. Almquist’s girlfriend, not the ‘help.’”
All the self-possession this woman presented disappeared for a beat as she gaped at Caroline. Caroline glanced down at herself as well. She was in leggings and a t-shirt, no bra. She might have brushed her hair that morning, but she wasn’t completely sure.
“Oh,” the woman finally said. She sized up Caroline again.
Was it so hard for this woman to believe that she was with Niklas? It rubbed at every insecurity Caroline had in this relationship. She steeled her expression and took a deep breath.
“Thanks for the groceries,” she said quietly, her voice sounding stronger than she felt. “I’ll be working in the office, so you don’t need to clean in there today.”
This clearly wasn’t a woman used to taking orders, especially not from someone a few shades browner than her. But Caroline’s words seemed to jolt this woman out of her stare. She busied herself with gathering the groceries, and Caroline headed for the office. She closed the door behind her and leaned back on it, resting her head against the cool wood.
Who the hell had Niklas hired as his housekeeper? He had sounded so casual about the arrangement. Clearly, Caroline had her own stereotypes, too, because whatever she was expecting from “housekeeper,” the woman currently stocking the fridge wasn’t it.
Don’t let your mind go there.
Caroline took a deep breath. It was definitely time to call her best friend. Veronica picked up on the third ring.
“Hola, Carolita,” she said. “Found some time between all that great sex to give me a call?”
It had been weeks since they had spoken last, but the calls from their trip had been short, too.
“We’re in Michigan now,” said Caroline. “I’m hiding out in the office from some hot young thing that Niklas has hired as his housekeeper.”
“Oh.”
“And she thought I was the help.”
“I see.”
Veronica’s voice dropped at these two words, as if she felt the weight of Caroline’s worries through the phone connection.
“We’re at the end of the trip now,”
said Caroline quietly, “and we need to decide what to do next.”
“So why are you calling me? You know I’m just going to talk you into coming here to hang out with me, even if it means pretending to lust after some muscle-head hockey player.”
Caroline laughed. “Yeah, about that hockey player…”
“Oooo, Carolita, I can hear it in your voice. This isn’t just a fling anymore.”
“Even at the beginning, it didn’t feel like a fling.”
“But… this isn’t what you want?”
Caroline shook her head.
“I’m so into him I can’t think straight. I didn’t want it to happen this way.”
“You mean in the hot-rich-hockey-player-sweeps-you-off-your feet way? You sure know how to see the glass half empty, chica,” Veronica snorted.
“It’s one of many talents,” she said, smiling a little.
The line went silent.
“I don’t think it’s going to work,” Caroline finally said. “I’m thinking about taking a job in New Hampshire. He might be able to play for the Red Wings for another year, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to stay in Detroit. And even if he stays, he freezes up every time I talk about traveling for jobs.”
“Is Detroit really what you want? To be back where you started, near your parents and Brad and that mall photo place? Everything the same but with Niklas in tow?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds so appealing,” she said dryly.
“When the alternative is living a floor above me? You should know what I’d say to that,” said Veronica. “What’s the problem? Too much sex? First class service not living up to your expectations?”
“Stop it,” she laughed.
“Seriously, what is it, Carolita?” asked Veronica.
“Don’t I need more reasons than just a guy to move to a foreign country, where I don’t speak the language, have no job and no friends except you?”
“With a guy who looks like that, I’m not sure you need more reasons,” snorted Veronica. Her voice softened. “You could just try it out for a while, you know.”
“Niklas wants more than that.”
“Marriage?”
Caroline sighed. “He doesn’t believe in marriage.”
“Ahh, Swedes,” laughed Veronica. “They all say that. I’ll never figure this place out. But the guy who doesn’t believe in marriage wants more of a commitment from you?”
“The irony didn’t escape me.” Caroline frowned. “But I think he’s right. If I go to Sweden, I can’t do it half way. So I guess I called to see what I’d be getting myself into.”
For once, Veronica was silent. When she spoke again, the humor in her voice was gone.
“Honestly, there are a lot of things in Sweden that took a while to get used to,” she said. “It’s hard to meet friends here, and there’s a ‘right’ way to do everything. Even after a few years, I still don’t feel like I really belong.”
“Oh,” said Caroline. This wasn’t sounding like a ringing endorsement.
“And the whole ‘help’ thing you just mentioned? Well, here I’m the ‘dark’ one. Really. I was ‘light-skinned’ back in Mexico, in the U.S. I was ‘brown,’ and now I’m ‘dark,’” she chuckled dryly. “That kind of thing can mess with you.”
“Is this some kind of reverse psychology to get me to come?”
Veronica laughed, this time for real.
“You wanted to know what you’re up against, so I’m telling you. Swedes aren’t known for their warm, open culture, but neither are the French, and that doesn’t stop people from moving to Paris.”
“True,” said Caroline. “But I’m not sure I’m ready to move to France, either.”
“Because there are no hot hockey players in France?”
“Exactly.”
Caroline could hear her friend’s sigh over the phone line.
“Look, Caroline, I think I told you this when you were here, but living away from my family and everything I grew up with is freeing, too. Lonely sometimes, but in a good way. I never would be painting the way I am with my family around, with people stopping by every day to tell me the gossip about which unaccompanied woman stopped over at which neighbor’s house. My life is in my hands, no one else’s. Moving to a new country can be a great chance to shape your life the way you want it to be. Which is what you want, I think.”
“I’d be starting over from scratch. Trying to ignore just how much of a distraction Niklas can be.”
Veronica cackled into her ear.
“Glad to hear the pro-athlete reputation for extraordinary endurance isn’t just a myth,” she said.
Caroline felt her face heat up. How long would she be embarrassed by the way her mind wandered to sex with Niklas?
“Still there, Carolita?” Veronica asked, softer now.
Caroline took a deep breath.
“Yep, just thinking,” she said. “It’s not only the sex that’s distracting. I think about him all the time. All the things I used to think about or want—it’s like they’ve all faded, and instead I’m thinking about a hot guy. I’m losing IQ points by the day.”
Veronica chuckled. “Welcome to being in love.”
“You mean, ‘welcome to being a woman in love,’” she corrected. “I doubt Niklas finds himself daydreaming about the way I smiled at him as he skates across the rink.”
“Have you talked to your parents about it?”
Caroline snorted. “About all the sex?”
Veronica’s laugh rang through the phone. “About moving, Carolita.”
“A little,” she said. “My mother is still holding out for Brad.”
“Your mother should be the first person to understand,” said Veronica. “Didn’t she leave her family and move to Michigan for love?”
“Yep, she did.”
CAROLINE TOSSED HER shoes to the side and sat down on the little stretch of beach behind the house. Niklas sat down next to her, not touching her. She rolled up her jeans and dipped her toes in the water, staring out at the lake.
Neither of them spoke for a long time. She didn’t want to bring up any of the things that were weighing her down right now. Niklas had been quiet all day.
Caroline closed her eyes in the afternoon sun. Were some things better left unsaid? Or should she voice one thought in her long list of worries? Time was running out for them. Caroline took a deep breath and turned to Niklas.
“You know, your housekeeper is very attractive,” said Caroline, keeping her voice light.
“You think?” he asked absently, his gaze far out onto the lake. “I usually have her come when—”
His words stopped abruptly, mid-sentence. Caroline looked over at him, and his expression was tight.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Did you hire her?”
Niklas raised an eyebrow. “It would appear so.”
“How did you meet her?”
Niklas sat up and crossed his arms.
“Is that the question you want to ask?” he said, his voice quiet. “Or are you really asking if we have a different kind of professional relationship.”
Though he kept his voice under control, his dark glare suggested that her words had hit a sensitive spot.
“She doesn’t provide any extra services, if that’s what you’re implying,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t pay for sex, Caroline.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she whispered. “She’s just so… blond and Swedish-looking and clearly dressed to please, so I couldn’t help but wonder if anything ever happened between you.”
Niklas frowned.
“Give me a little credit, Caroline,” he growled. “If I were dumb enough to screw my housekeeper in the first place, I wouldn’t have her come over while you’re here, would I?”
Caroline looked down at her hands, fidgeting with a loose string on her jeans.
“I’m sorry, Caroline
,” he said after a moment. “But is that what you really think of me?”
Caroline closed her eyes. “No, Niklas. But I clearly surprised her today, and she was dressed as if she was hoping you were there. And then she assumed I was ‘help’…”
Caroline winced. As she spoke this last word, she understood that this was what bothered her the most about the whole encounter. She opened her eyes again and found Niklas staring at her. All the frustration had left his face.
“I’m sorry, Caroline,” he whispered. “I think I’d be furious if I were you.”
“Yes, I’m angry about that,” she said quietly.
Caroline looked down at the sand. She traced the outlines of the pebbles scattered around her.
“There are parts of looking Mexican that are difficult here in Detroit,” said Caroline slowly. “I guess I’m just wondering what it would be like in Sweden for me.”
Niklas frowned.
“Sweden has problems, too,” he said. “But we can get past them. Or move somewhere warmer if things get rough. Like Australia. No hockey.”
She smiled a little. “And nude beaches.”
“Exactly.”
He found her hand. A little of the tightness in her chest eased, but not entirely.
“But why hire some beautiful young woman, Niklas, when there are so many old, homely looking housekeepers out there to choose from?” she asked, managing a little smile.
Niklas chuckled, and the warmth in his voice gave her the comfort she needed.
“The truth is that she’s the cousin of one of the guys on the team. She’s working her way through culinary school,” he said. “I didn’t have any reason not to hire her.”
Niklas ran a hand through his hair.
“Yes, I know she comes over looking… available,” he conceded. “But she’s not my type. Not even close.”
Niklas leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. He kissed her softly, teasing the seam of her lips. He coaxed her mouth open and slipped his tongue inside with long, languid movements. His teeth grazed over her bottom lip as he moved away.
“You are my type, Caroline, and you’re all I want. I don’t give a shit about how hot any other woman is,” he said, cupping her face and kissing her again. “Can we please be done with this subject? You’re just going to have to trust it’s that simple for me.”
Stockholm Diaries, Caroline 2 Page 16