Page 71 of Pucking Strong (Jacksonville Rays #4)

T eddy’s been outside on the phone for the last two hours.

He started sitting on the chair. Then he took to pacing.

I can’t hear him through the glass. He’s equal parts animated and reserved, sometimes gesturing wildly with his free hand, sometimes sitting quietly, nodding as the other person speaks.

Who is he talking to? Someone from his family?

I hope he can mend those fences. It’s clear how much they care for him.

Even clearer that they care not at all for me.

In fact, it’s safe to say they hate me. Perhaps I have some grace left with the husbands.

But his sisters? His mother? I imagine they’d all like to see me cast into the fiery pit.

I try to keep myself busy while he’s outside, checking Karro’s progress reports from Mr. Torres and answering the pile of emails from Laura and Elin. Laura has new endorsement deals for me to consider, and Elin did some research on elderly care facilities.

Even after his fall from the ladder, Dad is still being resistant to any change.

He doesn’t want more help, and he definitely doesn’t want to move.

He’s afraid moving Mom will mean he loses her faster.

She has so many memories rooted to that house and the land.

Some days, the familiarity of her kitchen and her garden is all that keeps her grounded.

The instability of their situation eats at me night and day. I’m afraid the decision will fall to me and I’ll have to enforce it with an iron hand. I want to be ready. I’m scrolling the website of an assisted living facility when Teddy comes back in. “All good?” I call.

He heaves a sigh of relief and drops down next to me on the couch. “So good.”

I set my phone aside, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Now that we’ve crossed the barrier of intimate touch, casual touch just feels natural.

Teddy must feel the same because he sinks against me, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

Then he pulls my arm tighter around his neck, banding my forearm across his chest.

I kiss his brow. “Who were you talking to?”

“My sister.”

“Which one?”

He hums contentedly, brushing his fingers down my arm. “Shae. I called her. We had a good talk. Finally.”

“Finally?”

“Yeah, it was time I came clean.”

“About what?”

He laughs. “Like, everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yeah. You, me, this whole crazy situation.”

“I thought you told them what we did and why.”

“Yeah, but before I just told them the basics. This time I filled in the gaps. I told Shae everything. Like, down to the details of my shoes on our wedding day. It helped, you know? To finally get it all off my chest. I hated feeling like I was keeping secrets.”

“You felt like you were keeping secrets by not telling your sister the shoes you wore to our wedding?”

“Well, not secrets, I guess. But those details, yeah. By keeping everything quiet and rushing like we did, I denied my family a lot. I hurt them, Hen. I think I’m really only just now realizing how much I hurt them. Something Karro said tonight opened the wound fresh.”

“What did she say?”

He brushes his hand down my arm again. “She said Petra promised her she could be the flower girl at your wedding.”

I go still, my heart clenching tight. The picture is so easy to paint in my mind. I can all but hear Petra’s voice saying the words, followed by Karro’s little cheer of excitement. “Karolina would have made an excellent flower girl.”

“Yeah, I feel bad,” he goes on. “We really messed up that part, I think. Shae said again how much she wished she could have been there. I wish we could make it up to all of them.”

I hum in understanding. “What if we hosted a party?”

“A party?”

“Many of my teammates in the past have had weddings abroad in the offseason, then they host parties once the season starts again. Would that help soothe hurt feelings?”

He sits up, an excited look in his eyes. “Like a reception?”

I shrug. “If you want.”

He bites his bottom lip, leaning away, his mind clearly racing.

Reaching out, I brush my fingers lightly over the locs on his shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

“Could we maybe hire a photographer too? We just don’t really have any pictures of us—I mean, the ones on your phone definitely don’t count. I can’t send those to my sisters in a Christmas card.”

I chuckle. Since our little photoshoot in the bathtub, we’ve added a few shots to the password-protected folder on my phone. “Of course. A photographer for Teddy, a dress for Karolina—”

“And maybe a kiss?” Once the words are out of his mouth, I can see he regrets them. He groans, shifting away.

I prop my feet next to his, tucking him against me with both arms around his chest so he can’t get away. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

“Teddy …” I wait, not letting him go.

After a moment, he relaxes against me with a sigh. “Okay, well we didn’t even kiss at our wedding. Like, I married you, and … nothing.”

I sit with that truth for a moment. He’s right, of course. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he would want that. If my memory serves, he was panicking, and I was just trying to have it all over and done as quickly as possible to spare him any discomfort or embarrassment.

“I had a stolen pen in my pocket, Felix’s dad’s watch on my wrist, and the whole thing was in Swedish,” he goes on. “I could have been vowing to give you all my organs.”

I chuckle again, brushing my lips to his shoulder. I resent the feeling of his cotton T-shirt, blocking me from touching his skin. “You didn’t,” I assure him.

“But that’s the thing, I don’t know. No one does but you and that snobby officiant guy. We didn’t even have a witness. And I’ll be fucked before anyone sees those mugshot pictures they took of us to submit with the license.”

I must admit, I’m a bit distracted from all this talk of weddings and parties.

I blame Teddy. His loc oil smells so good, like a soothing peppermint tea.

And he’s wearing some of my cologne. The mix of peppermint with the woodsy cologne has him smelling like a crisp winter morning.

I press my face in at his neck, breathing him in until he squirms.

“Fuck, babe, come on,” he says on a groan. “I can’t think when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Breathe me in like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re a wolf or something. It’s so primal.”

I smile, nuzzling the soft skin behind his ear. “Stop smelling so good then.” He just hums and my arm tightens around him. I kiss his neck, right at the point where the scents merge. When I flick with my tongue, he gasps. “You smell like me. It’s intoxicating.”

“Well, I’ve been using your cologne, so that tracks.” I don’t need to see his face to know he’s smiling. My distraction is working. He’s coming back to me, floating out of his panic spiral and back into my arms.

“Do you wear it to drive me crazy?”

He huffs. “No, I wear it to drive me crazy.”

Loosening my hold on him, I let my hands roam over the firm planes of his chest. “What do you mean?”

His body goes slack as I caress him. “I just like smelling like you.”

“Why?” I nip his ear, and he hisses, trying to hold still.

“Makes me feel like you’re there, even when you’re not, like your skin was just touching my skin. It turns me on.”

“So primal,” I tease, slipping my hand up under his shirt. My calloused fingertips trace over his warm skin.

He melts against me. “God, Hen, I seriously can’t think with you touching me, and I need to say something else.”

I go still, both hands under his shirt. “What?”

Pushing away from me with a frustrated groan, he sits up. “Okay, so don’t freak out, but someone said something nasty about us tonight and Karolina heard them.”

I sit up, good feelings gone. “What was said?”

He shifts away slightly so we can face each other. “They said I’m leaving you. Which totally isn’t true,” he quickly adds. “But they said it, and Karro heard, and she was definitely upset.”

My protective instincts surge at the thought of someone upsetting her. “Who said it?”

“Karro doesn’t know.” He places a hand on my shoulder.

“But it doesn’t matter. People think it’s true.

Whether the guys are gossiping to their wives or the media is still stirring the shit, people still think this marriage is just, like, a publicity stunt, a means to an end.

And that end is you getting full custody of Karro.

And maybe that is how this all started, minus the interest in publicity,” he quickly adds.

“We both just wanted to do whatever we could to protect Karro. But getting married as our solution was impulsive and reckless and—”

“And we didn’t even kiss,” I say over him, squeezing his hand. “Yes, I’m seeing more and more how unfair our rushed wedding was for everyone on all sides.”

He sits back. “Right. Well, I assured her I’m not leaving. Not—like, that I’m not leaving her,” he quickly amends. “I made a vow to her as much as you, and I’ll not break it, Henrik. And I may have …” His words trail into silence as he bites his bottom lip again.

I feel his anxiety spike, and I sit forward. “What, mitt hj?rta?”

He lets his breath out. “Okay, I may have said something. It was in the moment, and it felt right, but I don’t wanna feel like I crossed any lines. I mean, you don’t make kids promises you can’t keep. That’s, like, rule number one. And I know I should have checked with you first—”

“Teddy, just tell me—”

“I told her I love her. I told her in English and in Swedish. God, Hen, it was eating me up not to say it,” he adds with a groan.

“She needs to know how serious I am. Karolina’s my little girl now too.

She’s mine, and no one is gonna say shit that will make her doubt my intentions to stay in her life. ”

“I’m not mad,” I assure him, one hand on his thigh.

He raises a dark brow. “You’re not?”

I shake my head, smiling with relief. “No, I’m glad.”