Pucking Strong: An MM Workplace Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 4)

“Thank you so much,” Henrik says for the third time, holding open the door. “We truly appreciate your time.”

“Hey, it’s no problem. Just happy it all worked out. Give me a few days to get myself in order, and we’ll get started first thing Monday morning. Sound good?”

“Perfect,” says Henrik. “And thanks again.”

Karolina’s new tutor slips on his shoes and gives Henrik’s hand one more shake. Then he’s out the door, headed for the elevator.

Henrik closes the door and turns, leaning against it. His whole body relaxes as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Meanwhile, my chest fills with warmth. I did this. We had a problem, and I fixed it. I helped. Henrik let me help.

Well, technically the WAGs helped. It only took about thirty minutes of texting the other day before I had a list of four potential candidates for a state-approved private tutor. I let Henrik vet the résumés on his own, and he picked the same guy I would have picked.

Sam Torres is so fucking cool. I want him to be my tutor. He has a BA in biology and a master’s in early childhood education. He was in the Peace Corps in Sri Lanka. He’s scuba certified. He forages for edible plants on the weekend. And he’s a licensed yoga instructor. To top it all off, his family owns a farm up in Yulee, with cows, and chickens, and a beehive. We’re going to take Karro up there for nature classes.

“Well?” I say, crossing my arms.

Henrik smiles. “He’s perfect.”

“Right?” I hurry forward, my excitement bubbling. “Isn’t he so cool? I could listen to him talk about mushroom hunting for hours. Karro’s gonna love him.”

“I agree. Thank you, Teddy.”

My body feels aglow with his praise. “It was my pleasure. Anything for Karro, you know that.”

He checks the time on his phone and groans. “I have to go. Practice.”

I stuff my hands in my pockets and step back. “Yeah, sure. Go. I’ve got everything covered here.”

“I’m sorry about this. It was Hanna’s only scheduled time conflict when she took the job.”

I just laugh. “Her sister’s baby shower is a legitimate excuse to not come in for work for one day. Besides, I’m already here. Remember?”

He nods, but he still looks guilty.

“You don’t have to try to get childcare coverage every time you need to leave the house. If I’m available, I’m happy to be here with her. That’s the point of this whole arrangement. And I love kids, remember?”

Worry is still etched on every line of his face. “She said she was in pain again this morning.”

“Which I’ll monitor. Seriously, Henrik. You can go. I promise, she’s in the best of hands. I’m gonna keep things totally chill until you get back. Just a casual schedule of jet-skiing, followed by his-and-hers back tattoos. And if we’re feeling really chill, we’ll go rob a jewelry store. You like opals, right?”

He just rolls his eyes, fishing his keys off the hook. “I’m more of an emeralds man.”

I grin. “Good to know. And hey—” I place a hand on his shoulder before he steps out the door.

He glances back at me.

“You’re doing everything right, and everything is fine. You got this, Henrik.”

His smile almost reaches his eyes this time. “Thank you, Teddy.”

The door closes and I let out a heavy breath, glancing around this sad, empty apartment. We’re making slow progress. Karolina’s art wall adds some much-needed color. And I may have sneaked in a couple new blankets for the couch. Isn’t Henrik supposed to be Swedish? His Stockholm pad was so effortlessly cool. Why am I the one responsible for hygge-fying this place to match?

He gave me his credit card last night, which was an epic mistake on his part. I instantly bought three hundred dollars’ worth of art supplies, electric candles, and throw pillows. When he complains about it later, I’ll just whip out our new heated neck massager … which should arrive in two business days.

Slow and steady, Teddy. You got this.

“Okay,” I call down the hallway. “Who’s ready to rewatch The Swan Princess?”

“Me,” comes Karro’s sweet voice.

I grin. “I’ll get the popcorn. But I’m warning you now, I get to sing Odette’s parts this time. You have to play Lieutenant Puffin!”

“What are these?” Curled up next to me on the bed, Karro brushes her fingers over my hair.

I smile down at her. “They’re called locs. You do it by rolling and twisting the hair. See? Like this.” I pick one up and gently roll it with my palms.

“Why?”

“Because it protects my hair and helps me keep it long. Plus, it looks cool. Right?”

She nods.

I brush my hand over her blonde hair. It’s so thin and fine, like gossamer. “If you want, I can teach you ways to do braids that will work for your hair. Would you like that?”

“You can braid?”

I laugh. “Girl, I grew up as the only boy in a house with four Black women. I can do every braid you can imagine, and some you can’t.”

“Morbror can’t braid.”

“Well, we’ll fix that immediately. Hey, wanna play beauty parlor with me? I can wash and condition your hair, dry it, and put it in French braids. Sound fun? My little nieces love playing beauty parlor.”

Her eyes are alight, but her smile falls a little.

I sit up, cutting off the end credits of The Swan Princess with a click of the remote. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Her lower lip trembles. “Mamma did my hair.”

Her words pierce right through my heart. I brush my hand over her messy hair again. “Oh, honey, I bet it was so pretty. I bet she was really good at it too. Wasn’t she?”

Karro nods.

I clear my throat, setting the remote aside. “Well, I know I’m no replacement for your mamma, but I’m good at hair too. My sisters and nieces can provide strong references. If you’ll let me, I’d like to do yours. Would that be okay?”

Her bottom lip keeps trembling as her blue eyes fill with tears. “Jag saknar Mamma.”

I lean down, kissing the top of her head. “Can you translate for me?”

She sniffles, pulling Teddy the Bear onto her lap with her casted hand. “I miss Mamma.”

I let my own tears fall as I hold her, wrapping an arm around her thin, little shoulders. “Oh, honey, I know.”

There’s no shame in our tears. I may have never met Petra Karlsson, but I feel her absence too. I stand now in the gaping hole she left behind, arms outstretched, just trying to keep this cosmic wound from growing larger for the two people who remain. “Your mamma was so pretty,” I whisper against her hair.

She looks up at me. “You knew Mamma?”

I brush her tears away with my thumbs. “Your grandma showed me pictures of her when I was in Sweden. She was funny, wasn’t she? And strong. I know you’re so funny and so strong because your mamma taught you how.”

“I don’t have a picture of Mamma.”

Fuck, this girl is breaking me. “Don’t you even worry. I’m gonna fix that first thing in the morning. Morbror Henrik’s gonna get us a picture, and I’m gonna put it in a pretty frame that we can set right on your bedside table. Would that be okay? I think we should put one in the living room too.”

She nods.

“And I think there should be pictures of you with Morbror. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“And with you.”

The realness of this moment rocks me to my fucking core. In Sweden, Elin warned us what accepting custody of Karro would mean. But until now, I hadn’t fully considered the ramifications of inserting myself into her life. She doesn’t know this is all supposed to be temporary. All she knows is that her mother died. Then suddenly I appeared at her uncle’s side, ready to help them both pick up the pieces. Her trust in me is already steadfast, because her trust in Henrik is steadfast.

Holding her in this moment, crying with her, I know that no matter what happens between me and Henrik, I want to stay in Karro’s life. I need to stay. Rejection is too cruel. Kids don’t recover. Could I do that to Karolina? Could I swoop in on a rock star’s airplane, rip her from her life, promise her my love and attention, and then just walk away?

Fuck, I feel sick even thinking it.

Recalling her question, I kiss the top of her head again. “Of course we’ll get pictures of me and you. Don’t be silly. There’s gonna be more pictures of me on these walls than smelly Morbror. He’s not even that handsome.”

She giggles. “He is.”

“No, he’s not. I’m the handsome prince. Morbror Henrik looks like a shoe.”

That has her laughing harder. “No, he is handsome!”

“He looks like a penguin in a wig.”

“No! He’s like Hercules!”

Okay, fuck me. I’m not gonna picture Henrik as a stoic, bearded Swedish Hercules. My imagination doesn’t need that kind of kindling. Slipping off the side of the bed, I turn and reach for her. “You know what? I think he looks like Pegasus.”

She considers for a moment, clearly deliberating. It’s adorable. “Pegasus is pretty,” she accepts with a nod.

“Yeah … Pegasus’s butt!”

This sends her into peals of laughter that echo as I bring her into the bathroom. The laughter continues while we play beauty salon, all the while comparing Morbror Henrik to animals’ hind ends.noveldrama