Stockholm Diaries, Caroline 2

Home > Other > Stockholm Diaries, Caroline 2 > Page 18
Stockholm Diaries, Caroline 2 Page 18

by Rebecca Hunter


  Caroline nodded. She understood that now. But backing out of the New Hampshire job at this point, after she had already signed the contract, was career suicide. How many times would she have to choose between a relationship and a career?

  “I love you, Niklas,” she said, her voice cracking. “I didn’t know the traveling hurt you this way. Please don’t make this about how much I care.”

  He nodded and pulled her in tight. She never wanted him to let go.

  Chapter 15

  CAROLINE SAT ON the vinyl seats at her gate. Detroit Metro Airport bustled around her, but the tall, airy halls and the departure boards full of exotic destinations failed to spark any enthusiasm in her. In truth, she still hung onto the tiny fantasy that somehow Niklas would show up here. Somehow they would work it all out so that she could break into her new career and live happily ever after with Niklas, too.

  But this time, he wasn’t coming. The discussion about his father had shut the door on any hope for that possibility. The other passengers began boarding, but for once, she hung back. Caroline watched the boarding line grow shorter. She scanned the approaching passengers but found no large, blond athletes. Final boarding. She picked up her camera bag and her purse and got in line.

  She had accomplished what she had set out to do so many months ago when she left Detroit. She was officially on her own, with her life completely in her own hands. The feeling was real and vibrant and much, much worse than she had dreamed it could be.

  Chapter 16

  AS IT TURNS out, New Hampshire is colder than Michigan in early fall. Not a lot colder, but after ten days of freezing during early-morning photo sessions, Caroline had given in and bought a new, heavy down jacket. She had thanked herself for this spurge every morning since.

  On this brisk northern New Hampshire morning, Caroline found herself on a riverbank in the middle of the woods, looking up at an old stone bridge. The rough shapes of the stones suggested that they had been cut before machinery took over that line of work. The guard rails were nothing but a few taller stones, hooked together with iron chains. All around the old, grey bridge, the bright oranges and reds of fall clamored for attention. But it was this monument of a forgotten time that she wanted to capture.

  Caroline squatted down on the riverbank for a better angle. She wanted the bridge to rise up into the photo, equal to its surroundings. To capture that, she needed the right vantage point.

  This is what she had learned these past weeks in New Hampshire: how to make inanimate objects come alive. At first, Caroline had been disappointed to find that her new assignment focused more on places than people. But the shift had allowed her to grow, and her best shots so far used elements from both portraiture and landscape photography.

  Caroline moved a little closer to the bridge and looked through the viewfinder. Yes, she had found it. The magical balance between the rough bridge and the singing fall colors came together in the tiny frame. Caroline snapped photos using two different lenses before stepping a few paces forward for more shots. She straightened up and replace the lens cap before stuffing her camera back into its bulky black bag.

  She inhaled the crisp morning air, the wet decay of the leaves heavy in the dew. She stood still, letting the colors and sounds of the forest sink in. She wanted this feeling to last through the drive back into town. She could stop in the diner for some coffee before meeting with the little town’s mayor.

  Jess had been right. This job was definitely an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

  THE LITTLE BED and breakfast was dim and silent, even though the clock only read 7:16 pm. The window in her room faced a cascade of fall leaves still clinging to the trees that sloped down the mountain.

  Caroline didn’t bothered to turn on her light. Instead, she opened the window to the sharp cold of the air and aimed her camera at the hillside, where the last of the sun’s rays still shone. She breathed in the scent of the dewy evening, bolstering herself for the night to come. The night was the hardest.

  The woodsy hills of the state came alive in the sun, but the last few days she had caught herself turning to a phantom Niklas to point out an interesting pattern on a leaf or a bird that hadn’t yet left for warmer climates. The narrow roads wound through towns and over slow-moving rivers, and she found herself storing away details to share with Niklas, just in case. But all of these thoughts of him were bearable. Daytime was filled with distractions.

  It was the dull ache of Niklas’s absence every silent night that wouldn’t leave her alone.

  Caroline walked over to the little desk in the corner of her room and turned on her computer. The evenings were easier if she uploaded the day’s photos and worked as late as she could keep her eyes open. But as she waited for her computer to come to life, her eyes fell on her phone. She only allowed herself to listen to his message once a day. Night was the safest time to do this. If she was tempted to call Niklas after hearing his voice, the time change meant that he would be fast asleep.

  By now, she had heard his message enough times to know every intonation of his voice as he spoke. The message itself was depressing: Please don’t call, Caroline. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to talk.

  The two short sentences were meant to push her away, but instead she held onto this last connection between them. She used it to feed her hope. And hope could spark action—her action. Caroline didn’t know if she could find a way to close the rift between them, but she had the rest of the month to figure it out.

  So tonight, she simply pushed play and let Niklas into her room once more.

  Chapter 17

  CAROLINE STOOD OUTSIDE the old stone building in the middle of Stockholm and counted the windows until she found her own. Or what used to be her own. Her eyes drifted to the other side, to Niklas’s bedroom. The afternoon sun reflected in the glass, and she turned away. Not that he would be standing in the window, waiting for her. As far as he knew, she was still across the Atlantic.

  Caroline swallowed hard. She walked up to the front door and punched in the code. Thankfully, the one she used last summer still worked. She walked through the dark hallway of the building to the old elevator next to the marble staircase. At least she knew how to work the elevator this time. She stuffed her suitcase into the tiny compartment, shut the door and clicked the gate closed.

  Her hand shook as she pushed the third floor button. The ancient elevator jolted to life—on the first try. Hopefully a good omen.

  No, she told herself. This had nothing to do with omens. She was taking her life into her own hands.

  As the little lift creaked and groaned its way up, Caroline contemplated a stop at Veronica’s first. She would need a nap and a shower before she’d be anywhere near presentable. Hopefully, Niklas wouldn’t care about presentable. In fact, there was a chance he wouldn’t even answer the door.

  But from the moment she had bought her plane ticket to New Hampshire, she had decided she’d steer her own future. For better or for worse. And though the job went well, by the middle of the month, she had decided that choosing to part from Niklas fell into the “for worse” category. She just hoped this last spontaneous decision didn’t fall into the “for worse” category, too. She had left him once. He might not give her another chance.

  The elevator came to a stop. She opened the door and dragged her suitcase out into the dark hallway. She walked a couple paces and stopped in front of his door. This was it. Her heart had begun a steady trot in the elevator, and now it took off into full gallop.

  She knocked and waited. Nothing. She knocked again. Still nothing.

  Caroline sat down on her suitcase and frowned. Maybe she should have at least left him a message before showing up at his door. Maybe he was out, or maybe he didn’t even live here any—

  The lock clicked. The door opened a bit, and Niklas leaned against the doorframe, blocking the entrance. Niklas. Her heart’s gallop turned into a canter.

  “Hi,” she said soft
ly.

  “Hi.”

  His face was hard and expressionless. His hair stood up on ends, and the scruff along his jaw could almost be called a beard. He wore cutoff sweatpants and no shirt. Caroline told herself not to stare at the tight muscles of his chest. She knew how they felt under her fingers, how they responded to her touch.

  “Did I wake you?” she asked.

  He shrugged but didn’t answer. She stood up and took a step closer, but he didn’t move.

  “I—I missed you. A lot,” she tried.

  He nodded a little but didn’t stir from the doorway. Did he not want her in his apartment? Messy hair, no shirt. A thought flitted through her mind, sinking all her plans.

  “Do you have…” she started. She frowned and began again, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. “Is someone else in there with you?”

  Niklas’s eyes widened.

  “What? No,” he scowled. His expression softened. “No, Caroline.”

  Caroline took a shaky breath and stepped forward again. She stood close enough to touch him, but his hard expression told her not to try. She opened her mouth to speak, and the words came slowly.

  “You have every reason to be mad at me, Niklas. I’m sorry I had to find my own way at the expense of your feelings. And I’m sorry I made you feel like I was anything else but madly in love with you. Because I am.”

  Caroline gulped and pushed herself to continue. “I spent the entire month in New Hampshire missing you. I wanted to run all my ideas by you, like I did on our trip. I wanted to see your expression when you found something you loved in my photos. I was right about one thing—I don’t need you. But I want you. I want you with me, Niklas.”

  He looked her up and down slowly. His gaze fell on her suitcase.

  “How long are you planning to visit?” he asked.

  Caroline bit her lip. “I didn’t come to visit, Niklas,” she said. “I came to stay. If you’ll have me. Trial by fire, right?”

  He didn’t say anything for a long time. His pulse throbbed at the base of his neck, but he gave nothing else away. “What about your career? The traveling for jobs?”

  Caroline folded her arms around her for support. This was where the conversation could take a dive. “I’m not giving up the travel entirely. But I want to figure it out with you. Together. In a way that doesn’t make you feel like I might not come back.”

  Niklas didn’t respond. He seemed to be drinking her in. Was he getting one last glimpse of her before he shut the door forever? No, she wasn’t waiting around for that to happen. Caroline took a deep breath.

  “Niklas, I didn’t come because I worked everything out. I came because I’m miserable without you. And you’re not looking so great yourself.”

  Niklas raised an eyebrow. She thought she saw a glint of amusement in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared.

  “Look,” she said, her voice a little stronger. “I’ve thought a lot about my fears about making my own path. I was so wary of deferring to you I wasn’t willing to concede anything. But I’m here in Stockholm because I’m ready to—”

  Before she could finish her sentence, he opened the door. He stepped forward and closed his arms around her, pulling her in. Caroline drew in a long, deep breath, taking in his warmth, his scent, the familiar, hard muscles under her hands. He nuzzled her neck, and his chest expanded and contracted against her.

  “Caroline,” Niklas murmured, followed by a slur of Swedish words, his breath warm against her skin.

  “What did your parents say when you told them you were leaving again?” he asked.

  Caroline smiled. “They thought I was crazy not to run after you in the first place.”

  He squeezed her tighter and picked her up, whirling her around.

  “You were,” he growled.

  She pulled back a little. “You’re sure you’re okay with this? When you opened the door, you didn’t look too excited.”

  Niklas frowned. “I was trying not to have a heart attack.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” she said. “That would be a long flight for such a short relationship.”

  He chuckled and shook his head.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d let me in,” she whispered. “You wouldn’t answer my calls.”

  He ran his large hands up and down her back. “Just hearing your voice on my phone hurt too much. I was worried I’d start begging you to move here with me. Or quit the team and come to find you. And you would push me away again. I couldn’t put myself through that.”

  She heard the echoes of her own words in his statement, the reasons she had given him for not discussing their post-trip plans so long ago.

  “Were you angry at me?” he asked softly.

  Caroline frowned. “Yes, for a while. For not bringing up your father until it was too late. But I was also scared. Scared that I had pushed you too far.”

  His forehead creased, and he looked at her with wonder. “And you still came. I—I didn’t think you would, no matter how you felt.”

  “But here I am,” she said, kissing his bare shoulders. My God, how she missed this man. “I’m a little surprised to be here as well.”

  She felt his chest rumble with laughter. Then he scooped her off the ground, as if he were carrying his new bride over the threshold.

  “Ready, Caroline?” he whispered as he bent down to kiss her. “Come inside with me.”

  He smiled down at her as he fumbled to pick up her suitcase. “Watch your head.”

  He carried her past the kitchen and down the narrow hallway toward his bedroom.

  “Put me down before I hit a doorframe, Niklas,” she laughed.

  He gave her a heated gaze.

  “You don’t trust me?” he grumbled.

  “I do.”

  A smile spread across his face again.

  “Good,” he said. “But you’re probably right.”

  He set her down and took a step closer, bringing his arms around her. He kissed her slowly, pressing her against the wall. She let go of her questions and welcomed the warmth of his mouth, the softness of his lips on hers as he coaxed them open with his tongue.

  He smoothed her hair and held her close. The clear light of fall from the window lit up his face. The worry lines across his forehead were gone now, and his eyes crinkled with laughter. She wasn’t ready to let go.

  “I love you, Niklas.”

  He met her gaze and held it, his thick eyelashes dark against his bright blue eyes. He caught the back of her head in his hand as he leaned closer. His lips met hers for a soft, slow kiss. When he pulled back, a hint of lines appeared on his forehead.

  “I’m so lucky you found your way across the Atlantic, into the apartment across the hall. I’m so lucky you locked yourself out that morning,” he said. “No matter how hot I thought you were, I never would have talked to you if everything hadn’t lined up for us the way it did.”

  She laughed.

  “Lucky me,” she said.

  “Lucky me,” he echoed. “I didn’t think I believed in anything like fate, but with you…”

  His voice trailed off, and for a moment his eyes seemed to well up. He swallowed and took a long breath.

  “Just think about all the times this could have gone a different way—if I hadn’t had such a rough spring last year, I wouldn’t have bought this apartment. If I hadn’t been such a defensive shit, I wouldn’t have broken your camera.” Niklas sighed. “Well, it makes me feel a lot better about all the mistakes I’ve made. Because they all led me here.”

  “This isn’t fate, Niklas,” she said. “This is you deciding it was worth the effort to follow me around the world and me deciding I can’t live without you.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” He gazed at her with wonder and amazement that made her breath catch. She cupped his face in her hands, feeling the rough line of his jaw under her fingers. Even now she could see that the appeal of his rugged sexiness would grow with
age.

  His breath caught as she stroked his skin, and he let out a quiet groan. She kissed him again with long, luxurious strokes of her tongue. Though she hadn’t touched him in over a month, she wanted to take this slowly. After all, they had forever.

  CAROLINE SKIPPED THE last two steps of the flight of stairs and jogged down the hallway to Veronica’s door.

  “One minute,” she said over her shoulder to Niklas, close behind. “I just need to say hello.”

  Veronica answered on the first knock.

  “Carolita,” she squealed, throwing her arms around Caroline’s neck. She squeezed her friend hard.

  “Just letting you know I got in safely,” said Caroline. “I’ll bring your American food orders down later.”

  “Okay,” whispered Veronica, sniffing a little. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.”

  Veronica loosened her hug. “Did you get the job?”

  Caroline nodded and glanced at Niklas. “But I haven’t told him yet.”

  Veronica raised her eyebrows.

  “I’ll let you two go then,” she said smiling. “Welcome back to the neighborhood.”

  Caroline squeezed her friend’s hand and walked past Niklas toward the stairs. She started down, with Niklas fast on her heels.

  “You’re killing me here,” he growled, grabbing her from behind. “What job?”

  Caroline stopped. “Well, it’s a month-long assignment in Yellowstone National Park.”

  Niklas froze behind her. “I thought you said you were staying.”

  She turned around and faced him, the stairs accentuating his height. His mouth pulled tightly in a grim line, and his eyes were wide and sad.

  “I am staying,” said Caroline. “But I’ll be traveling for assignments sometimes, depending on what I get. I applied for the Yellowstone project because it isn’t until next summer. Off-season for hockey. I was hoping you’d come with me. If you wanted to.”

 

‹ Prev