Page 240 of Pucking Sweet
The sun peeksin through the windows of our bungalow, making it glow. I stretch out naked on the bed like a happy house cat. Colton is on his side facing me, his brow furrowed in sleep. Lukas is star-fished on his back, his lips parted in a silent snore.
I slip the sheet off and scoot down the end of the bed, wrapping myself in a fluffy white bathrobe. Padding into the kitchen on bare feet, I pluck a kiwi from the fruit bowl and peel it. I’m slicing a banana when a bleary-eyed Colton comes wandering out of the bedroom, my phone in his hand. “Your phone keeps ringing.”
I pop one of the banana slices in my mouth. “So? We’re still in Aruba for, like, three more hours. No real life until we touch down in Jacksonville, remember?”
He crosses the living room. “I think it’s serious, babe. It’s Henrik.”
I go still, another slice of banana halfway to my lips. “Karlsson?”
He flashes my phone screen at me, and the name is right there, including a roster picture of the handsome Swedish forward. I didn’t even know I had his number saved. Six years with this team, and I’ve never had an occasion to communicate with him directly. He’s certainly never gone out of his way to call me three times in a row.
Curious, I take the phone and answer the call. “This is Poppy St. James.”
“Hello, Poppy.” I recognize his voice instantly, his accented English smooth and proper. “This is Henrik Karlsson calling from Sweden.”
I set my paring knife down. “Hey, Henrik. This is sure a surprise. What can I do for you?”
“I need your help. It’s rather urgent.”
I place one hand flat on the counter as my PR brain instantly starts spinning out worst-case scenarios. I knew he was going to Sweden to deal with a family emergency. I believe it had something to do with a sudden death. It all happened right before we left for Aruba, so I’m a little out of the loop. “Hen, honey, what happened?”
He groans into the phone. I can picture him dragging a hand through that stylish, sandy blond hair. “I may have done something rather reckless last night.”
Colton looks at me wide-eyed, and I just shake my head, my anxiety blooming like a weed. “How reckless are we talking?”
He got into a bar fight. He murdered someone. He stole a kidney. My brain spins out crazy ideas until I finally hear him say, “I got married.”
Okay, well this just doesn’t compute at all. In the six years I’ve known Henrik, I don’t think he’s ever been in a relationship. The man lives and breathes hockey. No scandals. No drama. No clingy bunnies. “Did I know you were even seeing anyone?” I ask. But then I’m gasping. “Oh god—don’t tell me you married, like, Swedish royalty or something! Henrik Karlsson, did you marry a freaking princess?”
He lets off a soft chuckle. “No, I married Teddy.”
My brow furrows in confusion. I’m pretty sure I only know one Teddy. He was a physical therapy intern for us several years ago. Lukas raved about his massages so much that Colton got a teensy bit jealous. Of course, once Lukas knew Teddy was a trigger, he just couldn’t help but taunt him. I got to watch it blow up in a shouting match that ended with Lukas under Colton, moaning his name. Honestly, it was a pretty memorable night.
Last I heard, Teddy is now a full doctor of physical therapy. I think he’s coming back to the team to fill in while Rachel Price takes maternity leave. But Henrik can’t meanthatTeddy, right?
I shuffle the phone to my ear as I walk around to the other side of the kitchen island, pulling out a stool. “You wanna say that name again, sweets? I’m not sure I heard you right.”
He sighs. “Poppy, last night I married Teddy O’Connor.”
Yep, it’s that Teddy.
“But this doesn’t make any sense. Aren’t you in Sweden for a family emergency?”
“Yes. He came with me.”
“I am so confused right now,” I admit, sinking down onto the stool as Colton brings me my bowl of fruit.
“And we’ll fill you in, I promise,” Henrik assures me. “For now, we need your help.”
“Sure, honey. What help do you need? Want me to write up a formal press announcement?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “No, I want you to help me defraud the Swedish and American governments.”
I nearly drop the bowl of fruit as Colton hands it to me.
Defraud the—oh, I donotget paid enough for this!
Setting the fruit aside, I slide my laptop over and flip it open. Switching the phone to speaker, I set it on the bar. “Okay, Henrik. Why don’t you just start at the beginning?”
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