Page 24 of Pucking Strong (Jacksonville Rays #4)

“ M orbror?” The baby monitor on my bedside table crackles, waking me up. A soft voice echoes around my room. “Morbror? Jag behover hj?lp.”

I sit up, rubbing my face.

Oh fuck.

Realizing where I am and why, I lunge for the monitor. Karro’s awake. Poor thing is probably as jet-lagged as we are. I don’t know what she’s saying in Swedish, but I imagine it likely has something to do with using the bathroom.

Ignoring my own call of nature, I shrug on a T-shirt and hurry from my room, leaving the monitor on the dresser.

I trot through the kitchen and weave around the sofas in the living room.

Ducking down the hall, I stop in her doorway to see Henrik already in her room.

He’s crouching down beside her bed. They talk softly in Swedish.

He pets her messy blonde hair as he helps her sit up.

“Hey,” I say, stepping into the room. “Need any help?”

“I think we’re fine.” Henrik shifts her to the side of the bed. He uses the technique I taught him in Sweden to keep her ribs from twisting. Then he’s helping her shimmy up her nightdress and positioning the bed pan for her.

“I can help you get her to the bathroom,” I offer. “Less chance of a mess.”

“I have this,” he replies. “Thank you, Teddy.”

Feeling dismissed, I step out of the room and make my way back to the kitchen. Determined to do something helpful, I start on breakfast.

I’ve chopped up fruit and veggies for smoothies and I’m in the middle of frying a couple eggs when Henrik comes into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” he asks, heading for the coffee maker.

“Making us breakfast. You want two eggs or three?”

“I already ate.”

I peer around at the spotless kitchen. “When?”

“I’ve been up since five,” he replies. “In truth, I never really slept.”

I wiggle the eggs a little with the spatula, unsticking them from the bottom of the pan. “More nightmares?”

He just shrugs, clicking on the coffee maker.

“How’s our girl doing?”

He rustles around in the cabinet above the coffee maker. “She says her leg is hurting her more today than yesterday. Is that normal?”

I flip the eggs, trying my best not to overcook them.

“Pain is normal. Some days it may feel achy, like a deep throbbing. Other days it might feel sharp and sort of piercing. The good thing is that these are all healing pains. We can up her meds a little today if you want, just as she’s still transitioning and getting on a new sleep schedule.

But it’s important we start to wean her off the hard stuff. How many eggs will she eat?”

“None.”

“What?”

“She doesn’t like eggs.”

I look down at the eggs frying in the pan. “Well, I guess these are all for me then.”

“Sorry, I should have told you.”

“It’s no problem.” Using the spatula, I scrape the fried eggs onto a plate. “Maybe we should make a list of foods she does like to eat, just so I know for the future.”

He nods. His shoulders are so tense, and he looks so tired as he makes a note in his phone.

“I really can help, you know. That’s why I’m here, remember? You don’t have to do this all alone.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “Karro is my responsibility, Teddy.”

“And I totally respect that. You get final say in all matters Karro. I’m just saying you’re not alone in caring for her. I’m here. So, you know, put me in, Coach.”

His smile has a little more warmth now. “I appreciate that.”

I cross my arms, leaving the eggs to cool on the counter as I lean against it. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

The coffee maker hums as a fresh brew pours into the waiting mug. “Hanna Nilsson comes this morning,” he replies. “She should be here in thirty minutes.”

“Hanna Nilsson?”

“She’s a registered nurse, licensed for in-home care. She’s coming to interview for the position of Karolina’s temporary caretaker.”

I blink. “Oh. Well, did you need me to look over her résumé or anything? I can vet her qualifications for you.”

“Already done. She came highly recommended by my agent. I had Laura run a search and collect names and résumés. Same for Karolina’s in-home tutor. I’ll meet with her on Tuesday.”

Laura Miller is Henrik’s sports agent. She’s sort of his American Elin.

She helps him with his NHL contracts and all his North American endorsement deals.

He told me a bit about it on the plane ride back over from Sweden.

“Well, it looks like you’ve got it all under control.

If we’ve got company coming over, I’m gonna eat this breakfast and go get cleaned up. Does Karro still need some breakfast?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Right.

Smiling through this awkward tension, I turn away.

Nothing about this transition was ever going to be easy.

Henrik is so used to having his own way.

I get the impression that everything has been on his shoulders for a long time.

Even when Petra was alive, he was the life raft that kept them all from sinking.

I guess when you’re used to treading water, even a lifesaver feels like nothing but a rope trying to drag you down.

I ’ m deep in Henrik’s closet, ogling his impressive watch collection, when the doorbell rings.

The in-home nurse candidate is here. Checking my fit in the floor-length mirror, I nod at my reflection.

Until I get over to the hotel to grab the rest of my stuff, all I have are the clothes I packed for Sweden. At least Henrik washed them for me.

I enter the living room in my jeans, T-shirt, and bare feet.

I stop at the edge of the sofa, eyes wide, as I take in the smiling face of the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen shaking Henrik’s hand.

She’s young and blonde, with perfect white skin, straight teeth, and sparkly blue eyes.

Her smile lights up the whole dang apartment.

In her matching pink scrub set, she looks like a literal Disney princess: healthcare edition.

It takes a moment for my brain to process what’s happening. Wait … is she Swedish? They’re definitely not speaking English right now. And why is Henrik still shaking her hand?

Actually, it looks like she’s the one holding his hand. Their right hands are clasped, and her left hand is folded over his, giving it an emphatic squeeze as she says … well, god knows what. He’s nodding along, talking with his voice low. The Swedish flows out of him like a song.

Meanwhile, I stand here feeling like a totally useless asshole. I almost miss it when she turns her attention on me. “And you must be Doctor O’Connor. Mr. Karlsson here has spoken very highly of you,” she adds, batting her lashes at him.

Apparently, Nurse Hanna knows about me. But I know literally nothing about her. Except that her English is flawless. Her accent is completely American. “Are you Swedish?”

Her smile brightens. “I am. Or I should say my mother is. I have dual citizenship, but I was born here.”

“Please,” says Henrik, gesturing for her to sit.

She floats into the room, dropping onto the edge of the sofa. She sticks to English for my benefit, but her attention is all on Henrik. “So, you said you’re looking for someone with a flexible schedule. Someone who can cover day or night, including the possible overnight?”

“Yes, exactly,” says Henrik. “My schedule is quite variable, so I need someone with a high degree of flexibility. I will give you as much notice as I can, but things do tend to be added last minute.”

“That’s totally fine,” she replies. “I believe I mentioned on the phone that I’m between jobs at the moment, so I have the flexibility to make Karolina my top priority.”

“Between jobs?” I say. “What does that mean?”

She turns to me. “I’ve decided to pursue my doctorate in nursing.

My program won’t start until the spring, and the contract I was on with my last job was set to either renew or expire.

I chose to let it expire.” She turns back to Henrik.

“Which means I can make myself fully available to you, if you still want me.”

Her suggestion sinks like an arrow into my chest. I know she didn’t mean it to sound like an advance, but it’s been a hell of a two weeks. I’m jet-lagged, real married to a fake husband, and now he’s looking at her like she’s the answer to all his problems. “How old are you?”

Both she and Henrik turn my way. “I’m thirty-two,” she replies, still smiling.

Meanwhile, Henrik is looking at me like I’ve just grown two heads.

“Are you married? Do you have any kids?” Yep, I’m still talking, apparently.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to her employment,” says Henrik. “So long as she performs her tasks, her private life is her own.”

Hanna just laughs, flicking her blonde braid off her shoulder in a very Poppy-like way. “I don’t mind.” She turns to me. “No, Doctor O’Connor, I’m not married. And I don’t have kids. But I have a lot of experience working in pediatric nursing.”

Of course she does. And I bet birds help her wrap bandages while squirrels administer medications.

“Any hobbies?” I say, determined to dig my hole just a little deeper.

Henrik gives me the universal glare for “shut the fuck up.”

I just look to Hanna, hands folded primly in my lap.

“I’m a runner,” she replies. “Does that count? I try to run five to ten miles every day. And I love Disney World. I have an annual pass, and I run all their marathons. Well, as many as I can manage. Did you know some of them sell out in seconds? It’s very competitive.”

Of fucking course she loves Disney World. They probably just let her in without paying.

“Would you like to meet Karolina?” says Henrik, clearly trying to get his interview back on track.

Her eyes brighten. “Oh, I’d love to.”