Wheeler (Seattle Sharks 8)

I laughed, but my efforts to spare her were met with a wave of Faith’s hands. She took every question with grace and asked a few of her own. I drew the line at the threat of naked baby pictures. I would have hated for her to have a false impression of how things hung now.

After promising them that we’d be back, I drove Faith home while she drowsily took in the town. Seeing her here was like clicking a piece into a puzzle that had been missing. Comforting, exhilarating, and yet, exactly what I expected.

“I like your family,” she said quietly as we pulled into my long driveway.

“They like you,” I promised her. “My dad would have loved you. He had a thing for strong women.”

She looked at me in silent question.

“Cancer. Seven years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” I knew the sadness in her eyes was genuine. She was so close to her family, and it no doubt drew her thoughts there. “You’re surrounded by women, aren’t you?”

“My curse and my blessing,” I laughed.

I helped her from the car, letting my hands linger at her waist. “I like having you here in my home.”

“I like seeing this side of you,” she answered. “You’re...softer here.”

“Trust me, all I have to do is pull you a little closer, and you’ll see how wrong you are.” I smirked, and she batted at my chest.

“You know what I mean.”

I shrugged. “No one here cares who I am. There are no reporters. No pressure. Just the people I grew up with on the ice…” I drifted off as a set of headlights drove up the driveway.

Relax, you’re not in Seattle. There were no paparazzi waiting around to see who my new flame was, no tabloids that gave a crap what I was doing, but I swept Faith behind my back out of sheer habit.

The SUV stopped just shy of my Rover, and a huge figure unfolded himself from the driver’s seat.

“You’ve gotten fat.”

I laughed, letting go of Faith to embrace Axel. He was the biggest guy I’d ever been on the ice with—six-foot-six, and the shadow beard he sported wasn’t helping him in the approachable department.

“I can still outskate you, asshole,” I answered in Swedish. “God, it’s good to see you.”

“I heard you got in today. Peter told Marja, who told—”

“Got it, the Swedish telephone network activated.” I turned back to where Faith gawked up at Axel. “Faith, this is Axel,” I said, switching to English. “He’s my oldest friend, and a known philanderer, so keep clear.”

“Not true,” he said, stepping forward to smile down at Faith. “Aren’t you a morsel?”

“He also doesn’t speak English,” I said dryly despite the fact that he just had.

We made our way into the house, where Noble clicked through the channels, Harper sat surrounded by books at the dining room table, and Langley walked by, her phone to her ear as she dressed down whoever was on the other end.

Faith let out a jaw-cracking yawn, and I pulled her under my arm. “Another hour and you can sleep,” I promised her.

She rested her head on my chest, and I dropped my chin to her curls, soaking in her scent, her presence, even the sweet pain my heart ached with.

“Or I can put you to bed right now,” Axel offered.

“Fuck off,” I told him in Swedish.

“So it’s like that?” he asked, keeping to our native tongue.

“She’s everything,” I answered softly.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Faith mumbled, snuggling deeper.

Eric would have fucking killed me if he walked in on this, and I hadn’t so much as taken her to bed. The masquerade ball didn’t count. Much.

“There you are,” Langley said, coming into the kitchen and setting her phone on the counter. “I just had three press requests to attend the kids’ camp—”

“Absolutely not,” Axel answered, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring down at Langley.

She arched an eyebrow and glared right back. “Chill out, Gigantor. I already told them that.”

Faith sputtered a laugh against my chest.

“Axel, meet Langley, my publicist. Langley, meet Axel, my oldest friend. Also the meanest son of a bitch I’ve ever been on the ice with.”

They sized each other up as Noble walked over and then the introductions started all over again.

Axel’s gaze followed Langley as she grabbed waters from the refrigerator. Then they followed her as she took another call, this one taking her from the room.

“Don’t even think about it. One, she’s engaged. Two, she’d eat you alive, and I say that with all the love in my heart,” I told Axel.

He shrugged, but his eyes lingered on the hallway where Langley had disappeared.

“So why don’t you come and play for the NHL?” Noble asked.

“Please, do enlighten us,” I urged, waiting to hear what he would say this time.

“My brother isn’t done with school. I’ve raised him since I was sixteen, and I’m not finished yet,” he answered with a shrug. As if it didn’t matter. As if he hadn’t turned down an eight million dollar a year contract ten years ago.

Or the millions that had been offered since.

“You know he graduates this year. Your excuses will end.”

“Reasons are not excuses,” he chastised.

“So you’ll be open to a contract offer next year?” I pushed.

“Does she come with the deal?” he asked, watching where Langley appeared in the hallway only to disappear again. She was pacing, and even though her voice was low, the tone told me all was not well with whatever she was dealing with.

“We don’t put our women in contracts,” Noble answered.

“Well, let me know when that changes, and then we’ll have a discussion.”

I almost laughed.

But Langley walked in, tears streaming down her face and a vacant misery in her eyes.

“Langley?” Faith asked, pushing off my chest.

“I missed a benefit for his hospital. He said I had to choose,” she said to no one in particular. “My job, or him.”

I held my breath. Not just because she was the best PR in the business, but because I wasn’t sure I could handle her answer if she truly thought she wasn’t worthy of her own life, her own career.

“What does your heart say?” Faith took her hand.

“That I shouldn’t have to choose. So I did.”

“You chose?” I kept my tone soft, but my hands clenched.

“I chose me,” she answered. “I’m no longer engaged.” She held her head up like a queen and walked back to her bedroom, Faith and Harper close on her heels.

The kitchen was silent except for the sounds of Langley’s sobs as they came through the door.

Love was a bitch.

Chapter 8

Faith

I leaned against the family box in the arena, watching and listening as Lukas spoke in Swedish to the group of ten and eleven-year-olds surrounding him and Axel on the ice.

Lukas had filled me in on how youth hockey ran differently here, how each town had a team. No tryouts, no pushing the kids into a different league for a different coach. You joined a club and stayed there. Grew up there. Played there. It felt more like a family than what he’d seen for kids in the states. Axel’s camp gave kids who couldn’t afford it the chance to try hockey, and Lukas’s sponsorship helped those kids with gear and the costs of the club if they wanted to stick with it.

Hudson Porter’s work in the states had inspired Lukas enough to make this youth hockey camp a top priority whenever he was in the country. While his funding was likely appreciated and used all year long, it was his presence that spoke volumes about his care for the kids in his hometown league.

Care.

There had been a lot of that flying around since we’d touched down in his home country. Lukas was different here. He was still him—the confident, sexy man both on and off the ice—but there was a deeper

layer of emotion that exuded no matter where he was.

And at his family home? With his mother and grandmother? The way he was with them, the lightness in his eyes, the laughter on his lips—it was like being home unleashed an upbeat melody that sounded louder than any playmaker club music ever could. It lifted the weight off his shoulders and defined him more than his proudly worn Shark label.