AXEL

A CAROLINA REAPERS NOVEL

SAMANTHA WHISKEY
 CONTENTS

Also by Samantha Whiskey

Now Available in Audiobook!
1. Axel
2. Langley
3. Axel
4. Langley
5. Axel
6. Langley
7. Axel
8. Langley
9. Axel
10. Langley
11. Axel
12. Langley
13. Axel
14. Langley
15. Axel
16. Langley
17. Axel
18. Langley
19. Axel
20. Langley
21. Axel
Epilogue
Connect with me!
About the Author
Acknowledgments
 By Samantha Whiskey

Copyright © 2019 by Samantha Whiskey, LLC All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be
reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for
the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places,
events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for
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ALSO BY SAMANTHA WHISKEY

The Seattle Sharks Series:

Grinder
Enforcer
Winger
Rookie
Blocker
Skater
Bruiser
Wheeler
Defender
The Carolina Reapers Series:
Axel
A Modern-Day Fairytale Romance:
The Crown
The Throne
 N O W A VA I L A B L E I N A U D I O B O O K !

Grinder
Enforcer
Winger
Rookie

Let the Seattle Sharks spice up your morning commute!

For the readers who have made my dream a reality.
Thank you.
 1
AXEL

“A
re you settling in?” I asked my brother as I pulled into the airport. At least it was the smaller,
regional airport, so I didn’t have to deal with Stockholm traffic.
“Stop worrying,” Tage practically growled into the phone, which sent the sound vibrating
through my Rover’s speakers.
The shiny black four-door piece of exquisite machinery was the first “just-because” money I’d spent on
myself. Ever.
“I’m your brother. It’s my job to worry,” I reminded him. That’s all I did when it came to Tage. Worry.
How the hell could I not when he’d been my responsibility since I was sixteen?
“Normal brothers get each other drunk.”
Normal brothers didn’t lose both their parents in car accidents.
“Tell me you’re not drinking. You know your coach is going—”
“Relax, Axel. I’m not drinking. Just giving you hell. I was, however, sleeping off a hellish morning
practice.”
“I still wish you’d enrolled full time at Luleå.” I pulled up to the gate and lowered my window. “Axel
Nyström,” I told the guard.
“Like you did, right?” Tage scoffed.
“I didn’t have the option, remember? You were eight years old. What was I going to do, move into
student housing with you?” I glanced at the dashboard clock. Ten past ten. Lukas was due to land in five
minutes.
“You’re on the list,” the guard noted. “Hangar two.” He directed me through the gate.
“Thank you,” I told him and then followed his directions, turning right to get to the hangar Lukas’ jet
usually parked at when he flew in from the States.
“Relax,” Tage sighed. “Coach said I could manage a couple of classes. Besides, I’m only looking at a
year or two here. Then maybe I can transfer to an American school. From there it’s four years and a
college education before I get drafted into the NHL.”
My heart swelled. “Now that would be something I would whole-heartedly support. I’m so damn proud
of you, Tage.”
“Oh, come on, don’t get all watery,” Tage teased. “Where are you, anyway?”
“At the airport to pick up Lukas.” Usually I would have told my peacock of a best friend to drive himself
from the airport, but he’d never directly asked me to pick him up before.
“He’s in? Really? I thought he was deep in preparation for the season? I heard that new team is going
to be insane. Or at least they will be once they lock down a center—wait…”
“Don’t go there.” I shook my head even though I knew he couldn’t see me.
“Oh, come on! You know that’s why he’s coming in. The NHL is calling!” Tage whooped.
I parked my Rover next to the hangar as Lukas’ jet touched down. “A member of an NHL team is
always calling. Don’t look so far into it. Now, get some rest. You’ve got the Nyström name on your jersey,
so you’d better do it proud.”
“Proud enough to pound on you when the season starts.”
I grinned as Lukas’ jet taxied toward us. “You went to the wrong team if you think you’re going to take
me down.”
“Yeah, yeah. All jabs aside, have fun with Lukas. Relax a little, would you? You’re finally an empty-
nester!”
“Goodbye, Tage.” I hung up on my little brother and climbed out of the Rover as my cell rang again,
this time Lukas’ face appearing on the screen. “Why the hell are you calling me from a hundred meters
away? I’m literally staring at your damned jet.”
“Right,” my best friend said slowly. “So about that…”
I leaned back against the warm hood of my car. “About what?”
“Have fun and say yes!” He hung up on me as the plane parked.
I looked down at my phone, blinking a few times in complete confusion. A breeze ripped across me,
and I shoved my phone into the back pocket of my pants, then secured my hair with a tie from the pocket
of my jacket.
My sunglasses cut most of the glare from the morning sun as the door opened to Lukas’ jet, then the
staff lowered his staircase. Not only was the guy a high-paid NHL star, but he was also a pretty-boy model
who now had his own clothing line and the jet to go with it. Good thing I loved the asshole like a brother,
or I would have ceaselessly mocked him for the tailored dress clothes. Oh, who was I kidding, I still
mocked him.
 But I had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t on that fucking jet.
It took every muscle in my face to keep my jaw from dropping when she stepped into the doorway.
No fucking way. I was hallucinating. Had to be.
I compared the vision walking toward me with my memory.
Mile-long legs built to wrap around me? Check.
A waist so small I could almost span it with my hand? Check.
Curves meant to be tested and stroked by my hands? Check that, too.
But thinner than I remembered, which gave me a moment of concern as her kitten heels reached the
bottom of the staircase. Paler, too.
She adjusted her jacket, which she’d thrown across her shoulders like some kind of retro movie star,
then moved her handbag to her elbow and walked my way, determination in every step of that long,
graceful stride.
Still, maybe this was all a dream, or maybe that woman just looked a lot like—
She popped her oversized sunglasses on top of her head, right in front of that pile of ebony hair that
made my damned palms sweat, and looked at me with big, brown eyes that would have brought me to my
knees if I wasn’t using my car as a crutch.
“Langley Pierce,” I said slowly, sliding my own sunglasses down my nose so I could see her without the
filter. There was nothing about this woman that needed one. She was simple, classic, refined perfection.
“Okay, so can you sign this fucking contract, or what?”
With the mouth of a sailor.
I grinned, and she quickly lowered her sunglasses, then folded her arms across her chest. “Nice to see
you, too, Langley. Too bad I was expecting Lukas.”
Her pretty pink lips parted. “I’m sorry?”
“I. Was. Expecting. Lukas. I know my English isn’t perfect, but I thought that was pretty clear.” I tilted
my head as I looked down at her. She was beautifully tall, but at six-six, I still towered over her.
“He didn’t tell you I was coming?” She spoke every word with the slow, careful deliberation of a
publicist. Because that’s exactly what she was. The woman held in her reactions for a living, and as of a
couple of months ago, she now worked for the newest team in the NHL, the Carolina Reapers.
“Nope.” I shook my head.
I watched her mentally compose herself in the tiny adjustments of her hands, the gentle shift of her
weight.
“Ms. Pierce?” A staff member brought her single suitcase forward.
“Thank you so very much, Michael. It was a lovely flight.” She smiled at the guy, and my brows drew
together.
Where the hell was my smile?
“It’s always a pleasure, Ms. Pierce. You just let us know when you’re ready to head back, and we’ll be
here. Well, in a hotel, but you get the picture.”
She thanked him and then stared up at me as he walked away.
“You have no clue why I’m here, do you?” she asked with a sigh.
“My guess would be it has something to do with a contract for fucking.” I walked past her to grab her
suitcase.
“I did not say that!” she snapped.
“I did miss that temper of yours,” I told her with a smile as I walked her suitcase to the back of my
Rover and popped the hatch on the trunk. A moment later I had her suitcase secured and the trunk
closed.
“You really don’t know, do you?” she asked again, this time softly.
Everything in Langley’s world was orderly, controlled, proper, and measured. Something like the little
stunt Lukas had just played on us both was going to send her type A personality into type AAA.
“I don’t,” I answered equally as soft. “Why don’t you get in?”
“You don’t even know where I’m going. You don’t even know why I’m here.” She opened the back door
of the Rover and threw her jacket in, leaving her sculpted shoulders bare in a sleeveless silk blouse over
tailored trousers.
“Leave it to you to fly halfway around the world and still look like a million bucks.”
Her face jerked toward mine, but the glasses obscured her reaction.
“I have no clue where you’re going, but I’ll take you there,” I continued.
“Lukas said I could stay at his place.” She licked her lips nervously.
“Did he?” I asked with a grin.
“Why?”
“Because I’m at Lukas’ house while my floors are being refinished,” I told her with a laugh. This was
going to get interesting real fast.
She sucked in one deep breath, then another, before throwing her head back. “Damn you, Lukas
Vestergaard!” she yelled.
God, I loved it when she lost control.

F ORTY - FIVE MINUTES LATER , I scooped a helping of raspberries onto my plate and one onto Langley’s. Then I
took both plates into the dining room where I already had drinks waiting, and sat.
“Sorry!” Langley called as she rushed into the room, strands of her hair slipping free of her knot,
softening the style. “I was busy screaming at Lukas.”
“I heard,” I said, motioning to the chair cornered to mine. “Sit and eat.”
She stilled, a manila envelope in her hand. “You cooked? For me?” She eyed the pancakes with wide
eyes.
“I did,” I admitted. “Now sit and eat. Then we can discuss what put you on a plane.” I pushed my
thermal’s sleeves up past my elbows as she sat, her back ramrod straight.
“Thank you,” she said, sliding the envelope in front of her plate and picking up her fork.
“You’re welcome.” Huh. Guess we could be civil, even if it was awkward as hell.
“Ohmygawdthesearegood,” she moaned after her first bite.
And now my pants were too tight.
I called it the Langley Effect: she walked in, I got hard. Fact of life.
“So, tell me why you’re here,” I said before I did something stupid, like make her really moan.
“Contract offer,” she said, nudging the folder in my direction before taking another bite.
Watching her eat was up there with the most erotic things I’d ever seen...and I’d seen a lot.
“Unless that’s a contract for your hand in marriage, I’m not interested.” I didn’t bother looking at the
envelope before digging into my own lunch.
She swallowed and then shot me a serious WTF face. “A contract for my what? Get serious, Axel. The
Carolina Reapers want you.”
“The Reapers need me. There’s a difference. I’m not interested.” I shrugged. My home was in Sweden,
and the only thing on the planet that could make me leave sure as hell wasn’t in that damned envelope. I
shoveled in the rest of my lunch while she stared at me.
“You’re not interested? In an NHL contract?” Her eyes widened.
“Wouldn’t be the first time I turned one down.” I stood and took my dishes.
“What? Are you serious?”
“Langley, did you honestly think you were going to waltz in here, dazzle me with that smile as usual,
then get me to sign my life over to an American team?”
She blinked up at me as if realizing for the first time that this wasn’t going to be as easy as she first
thought. “Yes, but not exactly. I figured the numbers would dazzle you.”
“There’s nothing in that envelope that interests me.”
I left her sputtering, and walked away.

I RUFFLED the hair on Viktor’s head as we made it to the parking lot the next day. He waved and ran off to
his mother, and I waved once he reached her.
“He’s a good kid. They all are,” I said to Langley as we made our way to the car. She’d just spent the
last two hours watching me teach my clinic for the youth, alternating between working on her laptop and
making calls in the stands.
I’d already pulled a preseason practice with my own team this morning, listening to my coach give
every reason under the sun to sign another contract and give up the free-agent gig. Seemed like everyone
wanted me to sign something lately.
“You do wonderful work with those kids,” she admitted.
“It’s one of the reasons I’m happy here.” I threw my gear in the back of the car, then got behind the
wheel as Langley took the passenger seat.
“I did some research,” she admitted as we pulled onto the road, headed for home.
“And what did it tell you?”
“That you turned down a ten-million-dollar contract ten years ago.” She had the advantage, looking
straight at me while I kept my eyes on the road.
“By research you mean you talked to Lukas.” I glanced her way long enough to see her cheeks tinge
pink.
“He said you turned it down because you were raising your little brother, Tage.” She let that hang
between us, leaving it up to me to confirm or deny.
The freedom was why I chose to tell her.
“Our parents died in a car accident when I was sixteen, and we lived with my grandmother, but
basically I was responsible for Tage. Two years later, Grandmother died, too, and it was just the two of us
—Tage and me. Couldn’t exactly raise an eight-year-old and play in the NHL. That wasn’t what our
parents wanted for him or what he needed.” My hands gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles
turned white.
Looking back, it was the only decision I could have made, but living through it had felt like ripping my
soul in two. The life I wanted and the life I was meant to have simply weren’t the same.
“But he’s grown now, right?” she asked gently.
“Eighteen and on his own SHL team up north,” I agreed.
“Then come play for the Reapers. I don’t need to tell you how good you are, or how badly we need you
at center.”
“That’s because McPherson and the Billionaire built a team around exceptional players, but forgot they
needed a lynchpin.” I threw her a glance. “I read the news, Langley.”
“So come be our lynchpin,” she pled.
“You know why they sent you, right? You, Langley, a publicist. Not an owner, a coach, or an agent.” I
questioned, turning onto the road that led to Lukas’. The sun glinted off the Gulf of Bothnia, making the
water shine.
“Because they know you like me,” she admitted in a whisper. “You wouldn’t speak to anyone else.”
“Because I want you. How could you let them use you like that?”
She looked away, her hands fisting in her lap. “Because I want to keep my job. If getting you to sign
that contract means I keep my job, then fine. I’ll fly to Sweden.”
“And those are the only circumstances I can be alone with you? You’d only be sitting here with me if
your job was on the line?” Ire dripped into my tone, and I shook my head.
“No,” she whispered. “Fine, yes. You’re…” She sighed.
“I’m what?” I challenged.
“You’re too much...everything. Too big. Too fast. Too hot.” She shook her finger in my direction. “Don’t
even play that you don’t know you’re gorgeous.”
“I figured you were immune to looks after working with the Sharks and now the Reapers.” She’d left
the Seattle team and the Seattle fiancé.
“It’s impossible to be immune to someone your size, Axel. You take up all the air in the car.” She folded
her arms across her chest, and I almost laughed at how annoyed she looked.
“How are things going with the ex-fiancé?” I prodded.
She slowly turned her head to glare at me, and I thanked God that we were minutes away from Lukas’,
because she might really kill me. “He is not up for discussion.”
“Then neither is that contract.”
“I’m sorry? That’s personal!” she snapped.
“And you asking me to uproot my entire life to move to the United States isn’t?”
Her teeth clicked as she closed her mouth.
As much as she loved her job, it wasn’t helping her heal. She’d been here a year ago when that asshole
made her choose between her job or his love, and she’d rightfully chosen herself. Except she hadn’t really
followed through.
She was thinner, paler, and unhappy. The light in her eyes had dimmed, and even her small snaps of
temper lacked the fire she’d had last year. She needed someone to push her out of her little workplace
comfort zone.
“Sign the contract, Axel, and let me go home.”
“No.” Because neither of those options appealed to me, and they wouldn’t help her, either.

I WALKED in from practice the next day to find Langley in downward facing dog. Aka, here’s my ass, isn’t it
lovely?
She had a truly amazing ass. Hell, everything on the woman was perfect from her head to her toes.
What could have possibly been so great about her ex’s job that he was willing to lose her for it? Careers
came and went. The love of a woman like Langley? That’s the shit you held onto at night when you were
both old and crinkle-eyed.
“You’re home!” She popped up to stand, her ponytail swishing behind her.
“I am,” I admitted, then stalked to Lukas’ ultra-modern kitchen for the coldest bottle of water I could
find. I was mid-chug when she walked in, braced her hands on the counter and then jumped so she sat on
the hard granite surface.
Her sports bra did the impossible, lifting and curving around her breasts. Weren’t those things
supposed to flatten her out and keep my dick limp?
Not a limp dick in sight, that was for sure.
She stretched, drawing my eyes to the toned muscles of her stomach, gently lined, but not overly
muscular. Langley was soft in every place that screamed to be touched.
I needed to keep my damned hands to myself.
“So are you dating yet?” I asked, coming to stand next to her.
She raised a flirtatious eyebrow. “You know that could be seen as sexual harassment.”
“What you’re wearing is sexual harassment,” I muttered.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she ended up rolling them. “No, I’m not dating. Not going to date.
Ever. The only person I’m dating is myself, because then if I let myself down, I’ll know exactly who to
blame.”
Our eyes locked, sending my pulse skittering faster than any blue line drills could have.
“You think that sounds stupid, don’t you?” she asked, her brown eyes so close I could make out the
flecks of gold in them.
“I think it sounds lonely.”
She sucked in her breath. “Lonely is better than heartbroken.”
“Loved is better than heartbroken. You know how you get back to loved? You date.”
“Well, I’m going to skip that phase in my next relationship. It’s exhausting. I’ll just jump into marriage
or something. Besides, what would you know about dating?” she challenged.
“I date plenty,” I answered with a grin, leaning forward on my palm and invading her personal space.
Her eyes widened, her pupils flaring in an awareness she couldn’t hide, just like that little jump in the
pulse at her neck. She could play that she was immune, but she wasn’t. She leaned farther away from me,
only to bring back that damned envelope. “So you know how your first offer was for ten million?”
 “Yes.” Now I leaned back, putting some distance between us.
“Add a zero.”
My brow puckered. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s an eight-year, hundred-million-dollar contract.” Her eyes danced like she’d handed me the holy
grail.
“Not signing it.” I took my water bottle and headed for the shower.
“Axel!”
I turned because the sound of my name on her lips sounded so incredibly sweet.
“I got you a fifteen million dollar signing bonus. You’ll be one of the highest paid players in the entire
league.” This time her eyes held a sheen of desperation that I downright hated.
“Let me make this clear, Langley. I might be the one person in your entire life who doesn’t give a shit
about money. I make enough now to be happy. My brother is here. My team is here. My camp is here.
There is nothing in that envelope I want.”
“Okay, then what do you want?” she asked as I walked out the door.
“I already told you!” I shouted back as I headed for my room. Let her stew on that one for a while.

T HE NEXT DAY I swam laps in the lane pool that ran alongside Lukas’ house. I’d already had practice this
morning, then skated with the kids, and was now actively avoiding the contract waiting for me in the
kitchen.
Sure, it was a ton of money. But when was the last time money made anyone truly happy? My parents
had been happy with next to nothing. I’d raised Tage on a meager salary until I got bumped to a higher
one, and we’d done just fine. Yeah, I liked my new Rover, but it wasn’t like I needed it. Luxury items didn’t
do it for me.
What I wanted was Langley. Admitting that didn’t bother me. Knowing it would never happen? That
bothered the shit out of me. She’d walk out of this house without a contract, and I’d only see her when I
went to visit Lukas. Even then it would be chance encounters at the rink or a party or some other
bullshit.
It wasn’t even about sex—not that I wouldn’t sell my soul for a night where I could put my hands on
her. A night where I could show her what it felt like to be with someone who worshipped her. Someone
who knew exactly how to make her body sing without making her cry the next day.
She’d actually been engaged to that dick. She’d agreed to be his wife, to spend the rest of her life with
him. Someone who couldn’t see past the end of his own erection to notice the incredible, driven woman
who had chosen him. Instead, he’d thrown her away over a job.
Wait...was I doing the same thing? I reached the end of the lane and came up for air, resting my
forearms along the cool stone of the pool’s edge. If I signed that stupid contract, then I’d live in South
Carolina, close enough to see her often.
But I knew in the marrow of my bones that she still wouldn’t give me a chance if I lived there. She
wasn’t going to give anyone a chance, not with how tight she had her heart locked up.
“Hey, Axel, I was getting ready to make some lunch. Did you want anything?”
Think of the Devil.
“Thank you, but no,” I answered, looking out over the bay.
“You okay?” she asked, walking around the pool to where I stood.
“Yeah,” I lied. The thing about Langley being here for three days was that I realized just how many
more days I wanted. Days she wasn’t going to give me.
She dipped her bare foot into the water. “That’s nice,” she noted, then sat at the edge of the pool,
knee-to-toes in the water while her thighs rose soft and bare to her jean shorts.
Langley was exquisite when dressed for work. She was class and sophistication and beauty. But, l liked
her in this better. Soft and touchable. Home.
“He won’t give me back my cat,” she whispered, gripping the pool’s edge. “The asshole claims that
because he bought Hufflepuff, she’s his.”
My gaze snapped to hers, only to find that she was staring at the water. “Your cat’s name is
Hufflepuff?”
“You’re missing the point. And yes, I love Harry Potter.”
“Never watched them.” I shrugged. “And I know the point. You’re offering me something personal so
I’ll do the same.”
Her eyes widened under those thick lashes. “It’s read them, and yes, that’s exactly what I was doing.
God, do you always have to call me out? Can’t you just let me win something?” She splashed water in my
face.
I gripped her ankles and pulled her in.
“Axel!” She shrieked as the water rose to just above her breasts. “You ass!” She backed herself against
the wall.
I caged her in between my arms, leaving her more than enough room if she really wanted to go. “I
personally like to read Stephen King, Dean Koontz, anything about the things that go bump in the night.”
“I bet you like to bump in the night,” she muttered.
“Look at me.”
“No.” She crossed her arms under her breasts, but they were beneath the water, which killed some of
the intended effect.
“Look at me, Langley,” I ordered.
She slowly brought her eyes up, and I didn’t miss the way they traced over the lines of my abs and
chest, then my neck, my lips, and finally my eyes. Good thing there was a lot of space between us, or
she’d feel exactly how much I wanted her.
“What?” she finally asked, pure challenge in her eyes.
“Answer this question honestly, and we’ll talk about your contract.”
“Really?” Her eyebrows shot up.
“Really. I won’t act on your answer. I won’t pressure you. No matter what you say is fine, and we’ll still
discuss the deal you brought. Okay?”
She ran her tongue over her lower lip, and I barely contained my groan.
“Ask your question,” she said.
“Have you ever, even for just the slightest second, no matter how inappropriate it is because you work
for my best friend’s team—”
“Enough caveats. Ask it.”
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to kiss me?” The words came out low and rough.
Her eyes dropped to my lips, and hers parted.
“I promise not to move a muscle. I’m not trying to get into your pants.” That wasn’t a full lie. I wasn’t.
Not yet, anyway. “Answer. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to kiss me?” I repeated.
She warred with herself, the inner conflict evident in the flicker of her eyes and the way she worried
that lower lip with her teeth. Finally, she met my gaze and held it. “Yes.”
My entire posture softened in relief. She’d been honest. Holy. Shit.
“Now the contract.” Her chin rose in the air, and so help me God, I lost a chunk of my heart to her
right then.
“I’ll sign it on one condition.” This was fucking insane, but it was my only shot.
“Name it.” She nodded.
“Marry me for six months.”
Her jaw dropped.
“I’m not kidding, Langley. If you agree to marry me for six months, I’ll sign your damned contract. I’ll
move to South Carolina, and I’ll be the lynchpin for your team. I’ll save your ass when it comes to your
job. And no, this isn’t about getting a piece of ass.”
Her mouth snapped shut.
“Sex isn’t part of this deal. I’m not trading your body for a contract. I’m not that kind of man.”
“But you’re the kind of man who would hang my entire career on whether I’ll agree to marry you? Do
you have any idea how ludicrous that sounds? That is?” She pushed at my chest, and I backed up, giving
her space.
“I do, but it’s the only thing I want. Six months of being your husband.” Six glorious fucking months.
“You’ve lost your damned mind.” She hoisted herself onto the edge of the pool. “I have to marry you
and I don’t even get to have sex with you?” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean that. Forget I said it.”
I grinned. Couldn’t help it. “Sex is up to you. I just wasn’t including it in the offer.” Because she didn’t
need sex. Not yet, at least. That woman needed someone to put her first. To show her that it was possible
to have a career she loved and a man she loved just as much. That she wouldn’t have to choose as long as
she started by choosing the right man.
“Why the hell would you want to marry me for six months?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her
very wet black T-shirt.
“Because it’s the only way you’ll let me date you,” I answered honestly. “And I really want the chance
to date you.”
Her mouth opened and shut a few times, but finally she shook her head and walked away from me,
muttering that I’d lost my fool mind.
I watched her walk away with a smile on my face. Both our cards were on the table, and the choice
was hers to make—or not to.
Man, I hoped she said yes.
 2
LANGLEY

M
arry him.
Marry him!
The nerve of that giant hockey-stick-wielding brute!
Even if the way he’d worded it was…endearing.
“I really want the chance to date you.”
A warm chill raced over my skin—the memory of how his eyes had softened, the way he’d shifted from
hardened Viking to something more as he’d posed the question.
I paced the length of my room in Lukas’ grand estate. I’d selected the same one he’d assigned me on
our last visit here. The same place where my ex-fiancé had called and forced me to choose between him
and my work. The same phone call that had ended our too-long engagement. I glanced down at my left
hand, still adjusting to the empty ring finger.
“Marry me.”
All I wanted was a man who supported and understood my career—I’d thought my ex was that man.
After all, he’d worked constantly too. Always on call for patients or galas or medical conferences. Never—
not once—had I asked him to choose me over…anything. Not work or golf or boys’ trips. Maybe that had
been part of the problem—not asking anything for myself.
Nothing except my work—which shouldn’t be something I needed a man’s permission to do. Having a
career and succeeding at it was my God-given right and I would never, ever let a man force me to choose
again. Work was something entirely within my control. I could excel or fail based on my own efforts. Men?
They did whatever they wanted to my heart and left me to deal with the repercussions.
A whimsical chime had me fishing my cell from my pocket.
Asshole: You hired a lawyer? Really, Lang?
I cringed at the nickname and furiously typed away at the screen.
Me: You couldn’t be reasoned with. I’m done playing games. I want Hufflepuff back.
Asshole: You should’ve thought of that before you left us.
A punch to the chest—not for any fraction of regret for him—but for Hufflepuff. I would’ve already
made it up to her if my dick of an ex released her into my custody.
I took a steadying breath. Somehow, even after years of dating and an engagement, he continued to
underestimate me. How had I ever thought I could spend the rest of my life with him?
Me: You never appreciated either of us. Stop dragging this out. I’m sending a messenger to retrieve
her. Relinquish her when the messenger arrives or I swear to God you will regret it.
I hit send and closed my eyes against the onslaught of pain stinging my insides. I had managed to
mostly heal from the breakup—more like wakeup call that he wasn’t the man I thought he was—but the
battle for my cat was an emotionally draining experience with no end in sight. Holding onto my cat was
the last form of control he had over me, and he was squeezing out every last drop.
He didn’t even like her.
Controlling, entitled men were the reason I had no connection with my family. My mother had always
chosen the task of chasing the approval of them over raising me. Chased their love all across the country
over holding down a steady job and putting food on the table. Then she’d eventually left me. And the
second I was old enough to take care of myself, I did, and never looked back. I can’t believe I’d almost
shackled myself to another person like that. He’d hidden it so well. Too well. Selfish people like that
should be required to wear their warning labels on their skin where everyone could clearly read it—like
cigarettes or prescription pills.
My ex’s would’ve read: “Warning: I’m self-centered, think incredibly highly of myself, and want nothing
more than to put you in a pretty pink box and only pull you out when I have use of you. Don’t bother
bettering yourself or working hard for your career, I won’t acknowledge it as real or worthy of my time.”
What would mine be?
Warning: “Workaholic woman is exhausted, has serious control-freak issues, and can’t remember the
last time she had any real fun or did anything solely for herself. Comes with a topping of trust-issue
sprinkles.”
I sighed, racking my brain for the last time I felt…happy.
Sweden.
A thrill rushed through me at the memory of the post-breakup trip through Sweden. An endless stream
of drunken nights, fantastic food, and daytime historical exploration. Harper and Noble and Axel had all
been there for me in different ways—Axel my self-appointed Swedish tour guide and bodyguard.
I pocketed my cell and stomped out of the room, needing the movement to kill the adrenaline coursing
through my veins. How could my ex keep my precious cat? He barely tolerated her.
I wandered down the massive hallways, zigging and zagging aimlessly until I came to a dead stop
outside a wall of glass.
Lukas’ personal home gym—the place nearly as big as the one in the Seattle Sharks’ arena.
And Axel, in the dead center of it, shirtless, sweat glistening over every inch of muscle.
The memory of him in the pool yesterday—the beads of water rolling slowly down his chest, the way
he’d yanked me in, surprising me and yet giving me personal space—flashed red-hot in my mind. If I
wasn’t so angry, I probably would’ve laughed or moaned. Jury was still out.
A dual ringing and vibration caused my blood to boil, and I answered the call without looking at the
screen. “Listen, asshole—”
“I know I’m technically your boss now, but I figured it’d take a few years before you called me that.”
Gage McPherson’s voice held a relaxed, teasing tone—something gleaned from years of working together
back in Seattle when he was just one of the Sharks’ best grinders.
“I’m so sorry, Gage,” I said and meant it. Sure, he’d sent me on this near-impossible mission of signing
the Swedish giant to his new team, but I’d always considered him a friend—family even—if I was being
honest. My hockey family had become more real than any blood relation, and I considered myself damn
lucky to be so close to the men and women I’d met along the way. Nothing less would’ve pulled me to
Charleston and their new NHL team. “I thought you were someone else.”
“No worries,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll deserve that after I ask you how things are progressing.”
My eyes locked on Axel again, still oblivious to my presence just outside the gym he occupied. He
stalked to a tall bar, gripped it with one hand, and proceeded to do one-armed pull-ups, alternating arms
in between reps. Up and down and up and down. His muscles contracted in his back and biceps with each
motion.
Hot damn. How could the bar even support his mass?
My pulse skipped, and warmth flooded every cell in my body as my lips parted.
“Langley?” Gage’s voice snapped me back to reality.
“I’ve hit a snag.”
Gage sighed, and I could easily picture him rubbing the spot between his eyebrows. “We need him,
Langley.”
“I know.”
“This team has to have power, or we’ll sink before we’ve begun.”
“I know.”
“I know recruiting isn’t in your job description,” he said. “But you’re the best shot we have. I come
over there or send Silas, and you know he’ll laugh us out of the country.”
“I know,” I said again, softer this time. “I’m working on it.”
“Clock is ticking.”
“Well call a timeout,” I teased. “I’ll text you when I have something.”
I hung up and slipped my cell into my pocket again, seriously contemplating chucking the thing. It had
been beyond tempting after the breakup. All I’d wanted to do was throw it in the garbage and disappear
for a few months.
But I loved my job, and I wasn’t going to let a breakup ruin that for me. Plus, I’d had the benefit of
already being abroad when my ex had forced me to choose, and Sweden had been the perfect distraction.
Sweden and Axel—who had taken it upon himself to shadow me those two weeks. Quiet, watchful,
protective. His presence had been like a flame licking down my skin—constant and true. A flash of me
dancing in a human-sized birdcage on top of a bar had me cringing, as did the memory of Axel hauling me
out of there. I hadn’t drank that much whiskey since.
Axel dropped from the pull-up bar, his shoes hitting the mat with barely a sound. How could the giant
be so…graceful? He practically glided to the row of dumbbells that lined the farthest wall of the gym. His
long fingers wrapped around a couple that must’ve weighed fifty pounds each with how huge they were.
But he curled those suckers with ease, over and over again, his brow furrowing slightly at the strength
needed to continue the movement so many times in a row.
My skin heated as I watched him—some empty, hollow part of me waking up and reaching for anything
besides the loneliness I’d felt for far longer than I realized.
Axel returned the weights to their slots and grabbed the jump-rope, his feet quick as a blink. His long,
dirty-blond hair was tied back, and his beard was neatly trimmed, lining his strong jaw.
I hated to admit it, but those two weeks in Sweden had been some of the best days I’d had in a long
time, even with the breakup. I’d laughed and drank and danced and ate amazing food without worrying
what it would do to my body. I’d been…free. And Axel had made me laugh. Had made sure I was never
alone unless I needed to be. He’d done all that…without a grimace, without an eyeroll, without a sigh.
He’d wanted to be near me, even without a shot in hell at sex. He’d known what kind of mindset I’d been
in and it hadn’t scared him off.
I sucked in a long, slow breath, that aching spot in my chest easing.
I deserved a little wildness.
A little fun.
And Axel? He was the definition of wild—and sex.
Good God, the man would be incredible in bed. I had no doubt about that.
And, I didn’t mind his company. I liked the challenge he posed, the fearlessness about him. How he was
one-hundred percent himself. He might frustrate the hell out of me, but he also intrigued me, thrilled me,
and surprised me.
What were six months in the scheme of things? It wasn’t a commitment or even a promise, even with
the rings. It was just...six months. I had trial gym memberships longer than that, and they definitely didn’t
guarantee the fun that signing a contract with Axel would.
My heart raced, each beat propelling me to the craziest, wildest decision I’d ever made.
After the hell I’d been through, I wanted this.
And I hadn’t realized how badly I needed this until he’d offered it up to me on a silver Swedish platter.
Six months of coming home to that smile.
Six months of waking up to that body in my bed.
Six months of what I already knew was going to be explosive sex that just might bring me back to life.
Sure, I’d heard what he’d said, Sex isn’t part of this deal. I’m not trading your body for a contract.
I appreciated that and knew he meant it. Axel turned every female head within a three-mile radius, so
it wasn’t like he had to contract out for sex. But I also knew the electric sizzle that hit me every time he
walked into a room wasn’t one-sided. And if I was going to marry Axel for six months, there was zero
chance I wasn’t indulging in all that.
I was stubborn, not masochistic.
He’d be good for me, as hard as that was to admit. He didn’t back down from a challenge—hence the
debate I was having right now. He was just as committed to his career as I was. With a set timeline, there
was zero danger of actually losing my heart to him, so we could both walk away unscathed. Maybe even
with a smile.
This wasn’t about getting him to sign to the Reapers, though that would be an added bonus.
No, this was about me.
For once. I would choose me.
And in that moment, watching Axel, remembering the way he’d been so kind to me—a stranger then—
those two weeks….
A thrill raced through me as I hurried into the gym, halting when I stood an arms’ length from him.
He stopped his jumps, cocking an eyebrow at me as I looked up at him. Damn, he was so tall. For a few
moments, we simply stared each other down—the mischief in his eyes telling me he was content to wait
until I spoke, until I told him exactly why I had stomped in here.
Oh, he had no idea who he was dealing with.
This was going to be so much fun.
I popped my hip, crossing my arms over my chest, noting the way he tracked every single movement I
made.
“You might want to shower,” I said, my eyes trailing his body as hungrily as he’d trailed mine.
“Are you saying I smell?” He hung the jump-rope back on the hook in the wall next to the weights.
I pressed my lips together, hating that I was breathless. In truth, the man smelled incredible, even
drenched in sweat—something earthy and sharp, like he’d been hand-crafted in a mythical forest
somewhere.
I shook my head. “After the shower,” I said, storming on with my plan. “You need to pack.”
He stepped closer to me, towering over me, but I didn’t move an inch or lose his gaze. “And where
exactly are you taking me, Langley?”
I wet my lips, needing a moment to check my heart.
Yup. I wanted this. Needed this.
I flashed him a smirk while fishing out my cell, pulling up my contacts to find Lukas’ private jet
operator. I made sure to put a little swish in my hips as I headed for the doors, my cell already to my ear
as I flashed Axel a look over my shoulder.
“And put on a suit,” I said.
He tilted his head, the look near predatory. “Why?”
“Because we’re getting married.” After the shock cleared from his eyes, his smile was pure wicked
delight. I bit my lip to keep from returning the grin and instead hurried out the doors to make all the
arrangements. Our predicament was nothing a flight to Vegas couldn’t fix.
And then…
Axel.
Over me.
Under me.
Beside me.
For six whole months.
This would be the best damn self-care deal I ever made.
 3
AXEL

“S
o it’s all handled?” I asked Eden Jones, who as of three hours ago, was now my agent.
“Everything is waiting here in Charleston. I’ll meet you at the plane with the paperwork,” she
assured me. “Also, regarding the second matter, you’ll have two options—”
“Hey!” Langley hissed, popping her head through the barely opened door of the groom’s preparation
room. “Are you ready to make me an honest woman or what?”
I grinned, considering that we hadn’t done anything to make her not an honest woman. Ironic that I’d
been sexually active since I was sixteen, and now I was marrying a woman I hadn’t even kissed.
“That all sounds wonderful, Mrs. Jones,” I said into the phone, nodding to Langley.
“Please, it’s Ms., and do call me Eden. Everyone does.”
“Then, thank you, Eden. I appreciate you taking me on with such short notice.”
Langley raised her eyebrows, and I nodded.
“Porter and Vestergaard speak highly of you, and honestly, this contract is a no-brainer. I’ll see you
when you get here. Have to say, you’re getting one sweetheart of a deal.”
“Sure am,” I answered before hanging up.
Langley cocked her head, her hair pinned up, leaving the shoulder I could see bare. I couldn’t have
cared less about the money. I learned a long time ago that no number of zeros in a bank account could
bring you happiness. But marrying Langley for six months? Hell yes, that was the sweetheart of this deal.
“You ready, now?” Langley asked, her fingers holding the door so I couldn’t see the dress she’d just
spent the last three hours picking out.
“I am. Are you?” I cocked an eyebrow as I pulled on my tux jacket. I left the shirt’s top button undone
and wasn’t touching the tie Lukas had messengered over.
She swallowed but nodded. “Yep.”
“You’re sure this is what you want?” I waved my arms to indicate the chapel she’d chosen. “No
friends? No family? Elvis as our officiant?”
“Yep.” She nodded again.
“Elvis,” I repeated.
“I can lie to Elvis. There’s no chance I’m saying “‘Til death do us part” in front of a priest, and I doubt
one would be willing to change the verbiage to, “‘Til six months and an amicable divorce,” so I wouldn’t
shoot straight down to hell.” Her lips pursed. “Besides, Vegas is the capital of impetuous decisions, and
this is by far my most impetuous decision. Ever.”
“Elvis it is,” I agreed. I probably would have said yes to a Sherpa marrying us on Mt. Everest if it
meant I got to call Langley mine for six months. “I’ll see you out there.”
“I’ll be the one in the dress.” She shot me a grin that punched me straight in the gut. She should smile
like that every day, not just the ones where she’d been blackmailed into a wedding.
There was zero guilt on my part. I knew I could make this next six months the best in her life, and
thanks to our little deal, I now had that chance. There was no playing fair when it came to Langley
Pierce.
She’d said yes yesterday afternoon. We’d flown all night, woken up in Vegas, and now were getting
married as the sun hit noon. August fourteenth was about to become my favorite date on the calendar.
A few moments later I stood next to a man in the gaudiest, white, sequined Elvis costume I’d ever
imagined, and waited for Langley. Never in my life had I ever imagined James Dean would be my best
man, but if Lukas wasn’t available, he wasn’t a bad stand-in. A stout blonde in a Marilyn Monroe costume
hit play on the sound system and Marry Me by Train filled the overstimulating space.
Langley appeared at the end of the aisle, holding a bouquet of pink flowers she’d told me were
peonies, and began walking toward me.
By God, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her dress bared her shoulders, the bodice
tight to her waist before falling in a cascade of silk to her toes. It clung to her curves as she came
forward, but was understated in a classic way that was undeniably her. She’d performed a miracle in that
three hours of shopping.
Her smile? It nearly brought me to my knees. I think I echoed it, but I was so caught up in her that I
didn’t pay any attention to my own expression. She consumed my every thought.
Langley passed her flowers to Marilyn and took my hands as we faced each other in front of Elvis. Her
fingers looked so small, so delicate, clasped with mine.
The ceremony began, and I said my vows loud and clear, wondering if she realized how very real this
was for me. That I meant every single word, including the timeline. As unlikely as it had always sounded
to me, the first moment I saw Langley in Sweden last year, I’d known we’d be standing here eventually.
Maybe not in front of Elvis, but here, at the altar. There had been something inexplicably primal in my
chest that had risen up and roared, “Mine.”
Langley’s voice was sweet and clear as she repeated her vows, and I almost laughed when she threw
in a wink as she repeated, “until death do us part.”
When Elvis asked for the rings, Marilyn and James handed over the hardware we’d taken another hour
to purchase today.
“Axel,” Langley gasped softly as I slid hers onto her finger. It was a two-carat round, Tiffany set
engagement ring in rose gold. The wedding band was the same rose gold, inlaid with diamonds around
the band. It was a twist on a classic, the only set I’d found worthy of her, and looked stunning against the
creamy silk of her skin.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she slid a thick, black band with a row of small, black diamonds onto
my left hand. It was exactly what I would have chosen for myself. Simple and understated, with just a hint
of shine.
“With the authority invested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”
Elvis declared. “You can kiss your bride.”
Langley’s eyes flared as I laced our fingers with one hand and grasped the back of her neck lightly
with the other.
I held her eyes with mine until the last possible second, then slid mine shut as I brushed my lips over
hers once. Twice.
She opened under me, and I kissed her deep, sliding my tongue against hers in one long, swirling
stroke before I retreated, gently sucking on her lower lip as I pulled away.
Her deep brown eyes widened slightly, and I had to back away, leaving only our hands clasped, before I
did something utterly barbaric like carry her back to the dingy preparation room and bury myself inside
her. But the way she looked at me hinted that she wouldn’t object if that was the route I chose.
Instead, my beautiful wife glared at me when I had her strapped into the plane, wedding dress and all,
an hour later.
“I can’t believe you didn’t want to stay in Vegas for a night.” She folded her arms under her breasts,
sending the soft globes high enough to turn me hard as the fucking fuselage.
“I thought you’d appreciate me taking care of my part of the bargain,” I countered as we hit max
altitude. I undid my seat belt and took off my tux jacket, offering it to her.
“Thank you,” she mumbled and shoved her arms through it. “You smell ridiculously good,” she
accused.
I laughed. “Only you could make that sound like an insult.”
“I just…” She shook her head. “Figured Vegas was the best place to spend our wedding night.”
My dick jumped against the material of my boxer briefs.
“I told you this wasn’t about sex,” I said quietly, letting my lips brush the shell of her ear.
She shivered. “Well, it should certainly be a perk!”
Hell no, it wasn’t a perk. Sex wasn’t something to be thrown around lightly when it came to her. I
wanted Langley under me more than I wanted air, but I wasn’t giving in, not when she saw it as simple
physical gratification. I wasn’t going to push inside my gorgeous, eager wife until she wanted me for the
same reasons I wanted her, until she was so hungry for me that she practically vibrated with the same
need that had clawed at me for the last year.
“You hyphenated your name,” I said, effectively changing the subject.
“Well, yeah. I wasn’t taking yours just to have to switch everything back around in six months.” Her
eyebrows rose. “Wait, did you think I was going to take yours?” She whispered. “Oh, God, Axel, I didn’t
mean to hurt your feelings.”
My lips pressed against her forehead. “No, min enda kärlek,” I said against her soft skin. “I thought
you’d keep only Pierce. Finding my name attached to yours on the license was a wonderful surprise.”
She’d kick my ass if she knew how much male satisfaction I’d gained from the sight. She’d claimed
herself as a Pierce equally as a Nyström, which damn near broke my resolve on the sex issue. At this rate,
I’d give in before sunset.
“Mr. Nyström, are you ready?” the flight attendant asked with a bright smile.
“Yes, now, please,” I answered. “Come with me,” I said to Langley, taking her hand once she’d
unbuckled and leading her back to the soft, leather couch. The coffee table in front of us held a plate with
a knife that earned a skeptical look from Langley.
“What is this about?” she asked.
“Congratulations,” the flight attendant said before I could answer, reappearing with her partner. She
held a bottle of champagne and two flutes, while the other attendant held out a rectangular box marked
Sin City Cupcakes.
“Thank you,” I said as I took the cupcake box and handed it to Langley. “I figured you’d want a say in
our wedding cake, so there are twelve different flavors in there.” The way her expression softened was
well worth the effort of making the call. Everything about her was worth the effort.
“That was really thoughtful of you,” she said quietly as I took the champagne and glasses.
The attendants both retreated to a respectful distance, and once we were alone again, I set the glasses
on the coffee table and opened the champagne. The pop caught Langley by surprise, and she laughed as I
poured the bubbly stuff into the glasses.
“Did you choose yet?” I asked.
“I think so.” Her fingers danced over the open box like she was playing a game of musical chairs, and
wherever her digits landed, we’d find her choice. “Red velvet!”
She took her selection and placed it on the plate.
“Good thing I’m in this dress now,” she muttered as she ditched my jacket. “Because when I devour
those cupcakes, I’ll never fit in this thing again.”
I laughed as she removed the cupcake liner.
“Okay, we do this part together, so give me that giant hand of yours,” she ordered.
I reached over her hand, which already held the knife, and she sliced through the cupcake once, twice,
three times.
“In my country, the guests cut their own cake,” I remarked as my hand slid from hers.
“In your country, the minute the bride steps out of the room, the women line up to kiss the groom.
Guess what, that’s not happening here, either.” She waggled the blunt knife at me before putting it on the
plate. “In all honesty, Axel, it meant the world to me that you went by so many American traditions. Even
if this is only temporary.” Her eyes fell to her dress.
“Even if,” I muttered, a heaviness descending on my stomach. “I had fun watching Lukas and Faith
mingle their traditions, but I wanted you to have what you wanted.”
“Which means you’ll let me feed you cake.” We locked eyes, and she smiled slowly, biting her lower lip.
“You can feed me whatever you want, but I feed you first. Always.”
“You’re kind of a Neanderthal, you know that?” She grinned, reminding me that the first time she’d
called me that, it hadn’t been a compliment.
I fed her a small slice of the cupcake, and she moaned. “God, that’s good.”
Then she held a slice of the cake up to my lips, and I took her fingers into my mouth, letting my tongue
swirl over her skin before pulling back with the cake.
Her eyes widened, and when I noticed she had some of the icing on her finger, I captured it again,
licking it clean between my lips. “Better?” I asked.
She nodded, her lips parted, and her eyes on mine. “Now you’re supposed to kiss me.”
“But not every woman in the room?” I teased.
“Just me,” she whispered.
“Only you,” I vowed, capturing her mouth in a kiss that tasted like cake, frosting, and Langley. She
whimpered when my tongue stroked along hers, and before I could stop myself, I found my hands on her
hips, then her thighs on either side of mine as her dress slipped up to accommodate me.
She rolled her hips over mine as she sank her fingers into my hair, pulling it free of the leather band I
had it tied with. Then it was her tongue in my mouth, her scent invading my common sense, her need
escalating my own.
How the hell had I survived my entire life without kissing this woman?
My hand splayed over the soft, bare skin of her upper back as I kissed her with abandon. I tilted her
head so I could take her deeper, until she moaned and made me forget where we were.
Luckily, turbulence jostled us, reminding me that we weren’t alone. Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit,
but this wasn’t any normal woman.
This was my wife.
I broke the kiss and noted her racing pulse with a smug grin. Knowing I got to her was the best
possible wedding present. Then I put my bride to my side and handed her a glass of champagne.
“To being married,” I said as we toasted.
“To being married,” she whispered, her eyes full of the kind of promise I wasn’t ready to act on. Not
yet. Not until she wanted me in her heart, not just her bed.
Langley was exhausted by the time we landed. She covered her mouth with a dainty hand when she
yawned, and then looked across the limo with a sheepish smile, mouthing, sorry.
I shook my head with a slight smile, then gave my attention back to Eden as she went over the finer
parts of my contract.
Charleston went by us in a sunset-colored blur. It was almost eight-thirty, and I was surprised both
Langley and I were still awake, let alone able to focus.
“I can’t skydive?” I asked.
“Nope. That’s the hazardous activities clause. You can’t do anything dangerous that might take you out
of the game with an injury. Zero reckless behavior,” Eden lectured, looking over her cat-eye glasses. “This
provision has all stupidity on lockdown.”
Had to admit, I expected her to be older, but if I had to guess, she was only in her mid-twenties. Lukas
said something about her dad being one of the American hockey greats, but I never paid attention to that
kind of stuff.
“You’re not some kind of hidden thrill-seeker, are you?” she questioned.
I looked over at my wife, who simply arched an eyebrow. “I think I have all the thrill-seeking I can
handle with that one.”
“Don’t even get me started on how the two of you ended up married,” Eden muttered. “Wait, is there
something I need to know?” She directed her attention to Langley.
Langley sat up, pulling the edges of my jacket together over her dress. This wasn’t my wife in the limo
now, this was the very smart, very savvy, very powerful public relations director of the South Carolina
Reapers. “Let’s just say that it was part of his contract negotiations.”
“Oh, Christ,” Eden swore. “Are you serious?”
“It was requested by your client, and I agreed.” She shrugged.
Eden sighed, then swung her glare my way. “You know what this looks like if it gets out? Because I
sure as hell know that she does,” she pointed in Langley’s direction.
“Like I’m really good at negotiation?” I asked.
Langley laughed, and my smile was instant.
“This isn’t funny!” Eden barked.
“Relax, Eden,” Langley said in her professional voice. “I whole-heartedly agreed to Axel’s request. It’s
temporary and mutually beneficial. Trust me.”
Our eyes locked and the heat I saw there was enough to raise the temperature in the stretch limo. Hell
yes, it was going to be mutually beneficial. I was going to make her come in so many different ways that
she’d never leave my bed.
Just as soon as it wasn’t only the sex she wanted.
“Temporary?” Eden hissed. “Look, Axel, I like Langley. A lot. But if you just handed over half of your—”
“Eden, for God’s sake, I had him sign a prenup, even if he was against it,” Langley snapped. “We both
walk out of this thing with exactly what we had when we walked in, and both of our earnings stay
separate. He’s protected.”
My girl had claws. Holy fucking hot. It wasn’t the first time she’d had my back, either. She’d
questioned Eden at length when we’d gotten into the car, making sure that I had a no-movement clause so
I didn’t end up somewhere else.
“Okay, well, you be sure to keep protected,” she pointed her finger at me. “If this thing is temporary.
Nothing says millions like child support.”
This time, when I brought my eyes to Langley, hers fell away. Children definitely weren’t on the table,
not if she thought this thing was only for six months, and I’d never use an innocent child to trap her into
something she didn’t want.
After reading through the rest of the contract, I signed.
I was now a Reaper for the next eight years.
“We’re here,” Eden announced after we pulled through wide, wrought-iron gates.
“Where is here?” Langley asked around another yawn.
“Sweet Water, South Carolina, or what we like to call, Reaper Village,” Eden answered as houses
bigger than common sense came into view. “Silas bought this development when he broke ground for the
arena, and you’ll find that most of the Reapers live within the gates.”
“I thought people were kidding about that,” Langley muttered, looking out the window. “I have an
apartment close to the arena.”
“Well, your husband just signed a contract that comes with one of these houses as part of his signing
bonus, so now you live here.” Eden shrugged as we pulled up in front of an ultra-modern home.
“This one is yours?” Langley asked as I helped her from the limo. Some of the pins had come undone in
her hair, giving her a disheveled, touchable look that turned me on more than when I’d seen her at the
other end of the aisle.
“No,” I answered as a familiar face appeared in the doorway. “Lukas!”
My best friend ran down his driveway, launching himself at me at the end. “I knew she’d get you here!”
he shouted in Swedish as we collided.
“She’s quite persuasive.” I clapped him on the back, and his eyes widened as he took in both my
appearance and Langley’s.
“What the actual fuck?”
“It’s a long story.” I shrugged.
“Hey! Could you two please switch back to English?” Langley snapped. “I have no idea if you’re over
there scheming or what.”
“It’s like we have a secret language,” Lukas grinned, still speaking in our native tongue.
“Or not so secret if you have google translate.” Langley twirled her phone.
“Fine then,” Lukas pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.
“So if this is Lukas’ house, which is ours?” Langley asked, tucking the phone away, point proven.
“Pick,” I said, pointing to the ones on either side of Lukas.
“You want me to pick our house?” she questioned, coming over to my side.
“Yes.” Too bad it was dark already. It would have been nice to see them in the daylight.
“And you want to live next door to your best friend?” She raised her eyebrows.
“If you had the choice, wouldn't you?” I questioned. “This one behind us is okay, too, since it’s just
across the street.”
“We can set up a string like when we were kids,” Lukas added with a wide grin.
“And maybe this time your grandmother won’t cut it and tell us it’s time to get to bed,” I answered
with my own smile.
“Oh, this is such a bad idea,” Faith, Lukas’ wife, muttered as she joined us. “It’s so good to see you,
Axel...Langley?”
“Later,” Langley waved off Faith’s stare at her wedding dress. “Apparently I have to choose between
the Colonial on the left or the Tudor on the right.”
“Oh!” Faith jumped, then schooled her features when Langley narrowed her eyes at her. “I mean, if
you have to choose one, I’d go with the Tudor. It has a lap pool, and the kitchen is to. Die. For.”
Langley looked over at me and nibbled on her lower lip.
“I like lap pools, min enda kärlek,” I said quietly, thinking back to Sweden.
“Tudor it is,” she whispered.
“Seriously, the counters are the perfect height,” Faith urged, glancing between us with an appraising
look.
“For cooking?” Langley asked.
“Right, yeah, that too,” Faith forced a smile.
“We can string a zipline between the back porches,” Lukas said with an enthusiastic nod.
“You most certainly cannot,” Eden snapped. “Direct violation of the Hazardous Activities Clause.”
“Fine,” I answered with a shrug. “We’ll dig a tunnel between the houses.”
“With secret doors,” Lukas agreed.
“This is such a bad idea,” Eden echoed Faith’s earlier sentiment. “Okay, both houses are furnished and
come with a decor allowance, so if anything isn’t to your liking, I’ll have the interior designer stop over to
set up an exchange. Now get to sleep. You’re expected at practice tomorrow, and you look like death.”
“Hey, we’ve been up for…” Langley’s nose wrinkled. “God, I don’t even know anymore. I didn’t sleep
well on the plane last night. I’m dead on my feet.”
“Thirty-six hours?” I offered.
“Sounds right. Take me to bed, husband.”
“I’m on it, wife,” I answered, swinging Langley’s slight weight into my arms and starting up the
driveway.
“I’m so sleepy.” She tucked her head against my neck and sighed.
“I’ve got you,” I promised.
Eden raced up after us, unlocking and opening the door so I could carry Langley across the threshold.
“I’ll have the bags brought up!” She called after us.
“Thank you!” I called over my shoulder.
When I looked down, I almost laughed. My beautiful wife had gone from dead on her feet to asleep in
my arms.
Now I just had to find the bedroom. We might not be ready for sex, but I was definitely ready to sleep
beside her every night.
At least for the next six months.
 4
LANGLEY

“H
old up,” Faith said, stopping me from reaching for a hot pink pair of panties that were ninety-
percent lace. “You’re telling me that it’s been two weeks since you married Axel and you two
haven’t…” She waggled her eyebrows, her red curls framing her face.
Harper snorted from a table over. “You’re married to Lukas sex-on-a-stick Vestergaard, and you can’t
say the word sex?”
Faith eyed her BFF. “Watch it, Harper, or I’ll tell Noble you’ve set a date.”
She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Try me,” Faith teased, knowing full well Harper was content in her long engagement to Nathan Noble
—one of the Reapers’ defensemen and former Seattle Shark.
I laughed, the action freeing some of the exhaustion from the past couple weeks.
Harper Thompson had fallen for Lukas’ best friend, defensemen Nathan Noble, and I was secretly,
selfishly happy the Carolina Reapers had taken both Lukas and Noble for the team. That meant my girls
were a package deal that came with my sweet new job. But they were both blissfully happy in their
relationships, while I was…frustrated.
His hand on my hip, his tongue sliding against mine, the taste of red velvet and Axel combining to
create the most intoxicating flavor… I shook my head, trying to toss the memory from my brain.
Married life these past two weeks hadn’t been terrible—quite the opposite actually. Axel was kind and
perceptive and listened more than any man I’d ever met.
We’d had picnics in our brand new backyard, the lush green area filled with food and family—our
family; Lukas and Faith and Harper and Noble and so many more of the Reapers. We made the perfect
hosts, a fantastic duo where he grilled and I baked and everything was...easy. Fun.
Work had been an easy transition too—both the demands of my new job, and Axel’s position, and the
way we seamlessly fit into each other’s schedules. I’d never known how wonderful it was to have someone
support me as I strode to my office, and then warmly welcome me home after a long day—usually with a
fun idea for the evening, whether that be binge-watching Nailed It on Netflix or having a game night with
Faith and Lukas.
In reality, everything was perfect.
But, he’d refused to give in to what my body was dying for…him. Those kisses on our wedding day had
ignited a longing so intense in my core I could barely see straight.
He hadn’t kissed me since, and it was driving me bat-shit crazy. A man with a tongue like that
shouldn’t be denying his wife. Right? At least that’s what I told myself.
So, today was about taking drastic measures. I’d begged the girls to help me prep for my mission—
seduce my own damn husband. The notion was so surreal I felt like some sex-starved maniac.
“This is cute,” Harper said, holding up a pretty, pastel pink teddy.
I nodded. “It is. But I don’t think cute is going to cut it. This man is harder to crack than Fort Knox.”
“Ironic, considering he’s pretty much sex incarnate,” Harper noted. “Not that I’d trade Nathan. He’s
quite enough, thank you, but Axel? Who would have guessed he would be the one to withhold?”
“Right?” I nodded. “Funny thing? I think it’s just me he’s withheld from.” I looked at Faith with raised
eyebrows.
“According to Lukas, he was quite...active,” she confirmed. “Not that we talk about your husband’s
previous sex life, which from that comment, I guess we kind of do?”
“Well he doesn’t have a current one to discuss, that’s for sure!” I whined.
Faith laughed, and Harper joined her as she set down the pink lace.
“Faith is better at this sort of thing,” Harper said, wrapping an arm around her friend. “She helped me
when I was clueless about Nathan, and you’re far from clueless, Langley.”
I arched a brow at her. “It’s hard to believe a genius like you could ever be clueless about anything.”
Harper was a true genius—like Tony Stark level smart. She had a doctorate and a handful of other
degrees and had recently developed an athletic helmet that revolutionized safety standards. She also
happened to be the sister of the Reapers’ billionaire owner, Asher Silas, who currently had that helmet on
all of his players and would be launching it to the public soon.
Harper shrugged. “I was.” She nudged Faith. “She told me to wear nothing but his jersey though. Not
expensive lingerie. I bought a handful of this stuff as an insurance policy,” she said, waving toward the
gobs of lingerie in the store. “We should’ve enlisted Sawyer’s help. Flown him out here. He’s a guy
without an agenda and could offer a non-bias perspective.”
The girls had roomed with the goalie for the University of Washington while they were in college and
he’d grown on all of us. When he missed his shot at the Sharks by a hair’s breadth it had sucked a little
bit of joy out of our little group. But as far as I knew, Faith’s older brother, Eric, the Sharks’ current
goalie, was still helping him train.
“I do miss Sawyer,” Faith said but rolled her eyes. “But you do realize we all sound as bad as puck
bunnies trying to ensnare a hockey husband.” She scoffed.
Puck bunnies were the bane of every hockey wife or girlfriend, and where the term only made me roll
my eyes last month, now it made me feel like baring my teeth. Axel might not be sleeping with me, but he
sure as hell wasn’t on the market. For the next five-and-a-half-months, that man was mine.
I clucked my tongue at Faith. “We all know that isn’t true.” Faith and Lukas had gone through their
own hell to find and hold on to each other. And Harper and Noble had literally everything working against
them before they found their happily ever after. “I’m the one doing this all backward.”
The girls flashed me a sympathetic look. They’d both been with me in Sweden when the epic break-up
had happened and knew what it’d done to me. They also knew how Axel had taken care of me that
weekend without any sort of expectation from me whatsoever. He was simply a good man.
A good, incredibly sexy, Viking of a man who was such a gentleman he insisted on dating me despite us
being married.
The thought made a smile shape my lips despite my grumblings.
“What about this?” Faith asked as she held up a black, strappy contraption that looked like it needed
an instruction manual to get into. It screamed wild and confident and fuck-me-now.
I hurried over to her, taking the hanger from her hands to examine the scraps of lace and straps of
black more closely. Sure, it was intimidating, but Axel was worth facing any vulnerabilities I may have
about my sexuality. I nodded, smirking at the girls.
“If I’m going to put this on tonight,” I said, heading toward the counter. “I’m going to need a drink…or
three.” I set the garment on the counter, along with a few other tame pieces I’d gathered while browsing.
The jersey suggestion, though...that warranted a good amount of thought, too. “Do you know the best
place to get a drink around here?” I asked the girl at the register as she rang up my items.
She glanced from me to Faith and Harper and back again. “You’re with the Reapers, right?” she smiled
sheepishly with a soft southern drawl. “I may have overheard you talking about Vestergaard and Noble.”
“We are,” I said. “You’re an NHL fan?”
“I think everyone in this town is now an NHL fan. Well, a Reapers fan, anyway. It’s been a long-time
dream for the community, and we’re pumped to have you here.”
“Nice,” I said, nearly choking from the total. If six-hundred-dollars’ worth of lace and silk didn’t at
least earn me another kiss from Axel I may as well give up.
“Langley Pierce-Nyström?” she said, noting my new credit card. “As in Axel Nyström?”
“He’s my husband,” I confirmed, a note of pride sneaking into my tone. I’d debated changing
everything over, my license and my credit cards, but who knew if I’d actually ever marry anyone else. I
might as well have the full experience now.
“I saw the new posters with him over in the sportswear shop. He’s wow. Just. Whoa. Wow.” Her eyes
went so big it was all she could do to blink them back down to size. “I mean, Vestergaard is hot, and then
there’s Noble, and Price, and Ward, and I already bought my MacDhuibh jersey, but Nyström? He’s like
hot with a side of…” Her cheeks flushed. “Oh my God. I’m incredibly sorry. That was so inappropriate!”
“That’s okay,” I laughed. “He really is a lot of whoa and way more wow. And that’s Faith Gentry-
Vestergaard and Harper Thompson-engaged-to-be-Noble.”
The girls waved, and the clerk blushed even redder.
“Um, a place to get a drink,” she said switching the subject with a quickness. “Scythe,” she continued
and paired the recommendation with an address. “It’s right next to the new Reapers’ arena. Best bar in
town, in my opinion.”
I collected my bag of goods and smiled at the girl. “Thanks!”
“Anytime. Go Reapers!” she called as we exited the shop.
“I’m still getting used to that,” Harper said.
“What?” Faith asked. “Reapers instead of Sharks?”
“No.” Harper shook her head, her long brown hair tussling with the motion. “The fans. The loyalty to
the team. All of it. We haven’t even played a preseason game, and they’re already buying jerseys.”
I nodded, knowing Harper was new to hockey despite having a BFF with connections to the NHL.
She’d jumped into the deep end when Noble came along.
“It takes time,” I said. “I’ve been a publicist for years, and sometimes I’m still thrown off balance by
the intensity of the fans.” The girl in the shop had been genuine and kind, but I’d seen the worst from
fanatics who took things one step too far. The least of my worries were the puck bunnies we’d joked about
earlier. Sure, they were out to ruin relationships, but with the right man, it was a non-issue. The biggest
concern were the fans who felt they had some kind of ownership on the celebrity athlete simply because
they followed their career and private life. A shudder ran down my spine.
The Carolina Reapers were new enough that nothing like that had happened yet, but I’d seen my fair
share of creepers with the Seattle Sharks. Part of my job was to catch that behavior before it escalated.
That’s why my job was a 24/7 thing. It didn’t matter if it was two a.m on a Tuesday—if a player needed
help, I had to be there to put out the fire. I loved my job, the non-stop pace, the challenges, the
satisfaction of knowing I’d helped promote a player’s brand to new levels while also raising the Reapers’
public image. But it was demanding. So demanding that my ex-fiancé had checked out of our relationship
long before he’d forced the decision..
I’d never put myself in that position again.
 Because I believed I deserved someone who would never ask me to choose.
And Axel hadn’t asked me to choose, but it was only a matter of time. A high-power player like him,
now one of the highest paid players in the NHL, couldn’t afford to have a wife who wouldn’t put him first.
Sure, Noble had come to Charleston for Harper, but Faith had followed Lukas, giving up on her dream of
owning a concierge PR company in favor of her husband’s career and a job on my public relations team
with the Reapers. Shea, Hudson Porter’s wife, did the same, giving up her entire social work caseload to
follow Porter across the country with her daughter.
Noble was the only one who’d come to Charleston because the girl he loved was here.
So maybe Axel hadn’t asked me to choose him yet, but I believed I deserved someone who would never
ask me to choose. And maybe that someone was simply me. Maybe after the six months with Axel was up
and we parted ways, I would marry myself.
At least I could always count on me.

T HE WORD S CYTHE was burned into the wooden awning over the entrance to the bar, which was tucked
inside a small brick building on a quiet street corner just a few blocks away from Reapers’ arena.
The girls and I pushed through the single dark-glass door and were instantly met with the smells of
carved cedar, charcoal, and whiskey. The clash of pool balls and cues rang from the back of the bar where
a separated room held a few tables. Amber-colored exposed bulb-lights hung from the beamed ceiling,
casting everything in a muted glow. Rich, polished wood tables were scattered about the main floor, and a
stage and small gathering space were tucked into the far-right corner.
Since it wasn’t even four o’clock yet, the place was sparse for customers, and the three of us selected
stools in the middle of the custom bar that hugged the wall just off the entrance. Built-in shelves made
the wall behind the bar, each shelf housing row after row of glass bottles that shimmered under the
amber lighting. An ancient looking scythe hung above the top shelf, as long as I was tall.
“Don’t be afraid,” a female voice said as she came through a door next to the bar—likely housing a
small kitchen if the delicious fried food smell was any indication. “I haven’t had to use that yet.” She
pointed to the scythe before resting her hands atop the bar before us.
She wore a tightly cinched leather vest, her arms decorated with tattoos. With purple-Ombre hair that
hit her shoulders, a small diamond piercing in her nose and even more piercings lining her ears, she
definitely looked the part of some gorgeous reaper working for Death.
“What’s your poison?” she asked, her nails black as the vest she wore.
“Whiskey,” I said. “Two fingers. Ice.”
“Top or bottom?” she asked.
“Top.”
My phone vibrated as Faith and Harper ordered their drinks, and the bartender got to work.
Steve: He declined entry. Wouldn’t allow me to retrieve the cat. Threatened legal action for
trespassing.
“Fucking. Asshat,” I snapped, resisting the urge to slam my cell on the bar.
The bartender smirked as she set a tumbler of golden liquid before me. “Fuck him,” she said and
poured another finger of whiskey in the glass.
I liked her immediately.
I nodded, raising the glass to clink it against Faith and Harper’s. “Fuck him,” we all said in unison.
The bartender laughed before busying herself behind the bar.
“What now?” Faith asked after we’d drank to our toast.
“He denied the messenger I sent to retrieve Hufflepuff.” I typed a quick thank you text, sent the
payment to the messenger, and then told him I’d be in touch.
“Douche,” Harper said, sipping from her green concoction.
“I just want my cat,” I said, and kind of hated how broken those words sounded.
The bartender stopped her wipe down of the other end of the bar and locked eyes with me. “Some guy
is holding your cat hostage?”
I nodded.
She smacked the damp towel on the bar, kicked a small step ladder toward the middle of the shelves,
and hopped on it. Her black moto-boots thumped against the metal as she reached the top step, her long,
lean arms reaching toward the scythe she had hanging above the liquor bottles. She took it off its hooks,
turning to face us while still on the ladder.
“Let’s go,” she said, motioning toward the door. “The owner can be a real bitch, but I know she’d
support me helping you get back your cat.”
She looked equally endearing and terrifying in that moment, but I managed a soft laugh as I waved her
off.
“As much as I would love to see my ex shit his pants upon seeing you wielding that thing like a boss,
he’s in Seattle.”
Her shoulders deflated a bit, and she stomped a booted foot before returning the weapon. She hopped
off the stool in one motion. “Damn.”
Faith raised her brows. “What’s your name?”
“Echo Hayes,” she said, extending a hand toward Faith. “You three?”
“I’m Faith,” she said, shaking her hand before pointing to us in turn. “This is Harper and Langley.”
 “Nice to meet you three,” she said, tilting her head slightly as she surveyed us. “You Reapers’ wives?”
I snorted. “Is it that easy to tell?”
Echo shrugged. “I haven’t seen you in here before. So you either wandered in here on pure luck or you
sought this place out because you’re connected to the team or a die-hard fan. Since the team is so new, I
bet on the connection.”
“Nice deduction,” Harper said. “Though, technically, I’m not a wife. I’m engaged.”
“Congrats.” Echo resumed her cleaning but asked, “is that what you’re celebrating?” She eyed the
drinks.
“No,” I answered. “Girls’ day,” I said, and something like longing flashed in her blue eyes. “I also
needed the liquid courage.”
“To face down that asshole who has your cat?”
“No,” I said, though I wished he was in town just so I could take this gang of girl-bosses over to his
house and get Hufflepuff back, and maybe break a few vases on our way out. “Trying to seduce my
husband.”
Echo’s lips parted, confusion coloring her features.
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“But a super intriguing one,” Faith said, nudging her shoulder with mine.
“Oh?” Echo smirked, refilling my now empty glass. “Do tell.” When she saw my hesitation, she raised
an eyebrow. “You know that being a bartender pretty much means I’m a living NDA, right? Can’t lose my
best customers before the bar’s patron namesakes even take the ice.”
Fair point.
“Why not?” I let it fly.

T HREE HOURS and way too many shots later, Lukas dropped me off at my front door. Faith had had to call
him to pick us up due to said shots, and since we all lived on the same damn block—Faith’s house directly
next to mine—it was a win-win. Now if I could just get the damned key in the lock...
The door swung open, Axel filling out every inch of the entryway. He stepped onto the porch, carefully
placing a hand on the small of my back to steady me as he peered around the corner.
He growled some words in Swedish, aimed at Lukas’ back.
Lukas waved him off, clapping back in rapid Swedish as he opened his own front door and ushered in a
giggling Faith.
“Good luck!” Faith called, and a laugh ripped from my chest.
I swayed on the porch, trying desperately to lock eyes with my giant of a husband.
He smirked down at me. “Have fun, did you?”
I grinned up at him, the motion genuine, and it crackled in every hollow inch of me. “Not yet,” I said
before throwing my shopping bag into the house, then jumping up, my arms locking around his neck and
my ankles securing around his waist. My abs were awesome. Yay for core strength!
Another growl in Swedish and my husband held me effortlessly while he backed into the house.
 5
AXEL

H
oly shit, my wife was drunk. Her ass filled my hands as I closed the front door with my heel.
“I like our house,” she noted, her eyes sweeping over the entryway that was large enough to fit
half the locker room.
“Me too,” I agreed. When I moved to set her down, she clutched me tighter.
“I like you even more,” she whispered with a giggle, then tugged my earlobe with her teeth.
Her teeth.
A shot of lust hit me square in the dick, and I sucked in a full breath, telling myself all the reasons I
couldn’t fuck my own wife. Two weeks of sleeping next to her, waking up hard next to her, and I was
ready to say screw the plan and just get to the screwing.
“Langley?” I questioned, my fingers flexing on the incredible curves of her ass.
“Axel?” she replied, then kissed her way down my throat.
Each caress felt like an electric shock to my system, and every single one of them gathered in my cock,
turning me harder than the wood under our feet.
“You taste so good,” she murmured against my skin. “You always taste so good. Smell good, too. Like
sandalwood and ocean water, and yummy.”
“Yummy?” I questioned, unable to move under her onslaught.
“Yummy,” she assured, her lips landing at my jaw.
“God, min enda kärlek, you’re killing me,” I moaned when she kissed that sensitive spot where my jaw
hinged.
“I like it when you talk Swedish to me,” she admitted, her breath hot against the shell of my ear. “I
imagine you saying all sorts of dirty things.”
My dick was ready to punch through my workout pants.
The words were anything but dirty, but she wasn’t ready to know what they meant, anyway.
“How about some dinner?” I asked, finally moving toward the kitchen as her ankles locked in the small
of my back.
“Did you eat?” she asked, her teeth testing the side of my neck.
I was going to eat her if I didn’t get ahold of myself, that was for sure.
“Yes. When you texted and said you were out with the girls, I made something. Can I feed you?” I
asked.
“I drank my dinner,” she giggled. “You aren’t mad that I came home drunk?”
Her brown eyes caught mine, a flash of seriousness cutting through the haze.
“Mad that you went out with your friends?” I questioned. “Why would I be? Did you do something to
make me mad?”
“What would make you mad?” she asked, outright flirting in her smile. “Kissing someone else?”
I tensed. There was no way—
“Because I didn’t. I didn’t even look at another man. Why would I look at anyone else when I have all
this at home?” She gripped my T-shirt and tugged.
Stunned and more than a little turned on, I let her take it off. Fuck me, that was the wrong call
because she ran her fingers down the lines of muscle at my stomach. I stilled at her touch, the muscles
flexing to a near-steel state with her feather-light strokes.
“This is what every woman dreams of coming home to,” she whispered, ducking her head and pressing
her lips to my collarbone. “Sheer. Perfection.” A hint of whiskey darkened her citrus-scent, and I inhaled
deeply, searching for my self-control.
“Langley,” I groaned, threading my fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck, then tugging to
bring her eyes to mine. “What are you doing, baby?”
“Baby,” she sighed. “I like when you say that, too.”
“Okay, baby,” I repeated just to hear her sigh like that again.
“Kiss me? Please, Axel?” She sent one hand into my hair and the other behind my neck.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” my mouth said, while my cock declared that it was a great idea. No
idea had ever been better in the history of the world.
“People kiss when they’re dating,” she said against my lips, hers moving over mine in a petal-soft
caress.
My lower lip shook. That’s right, it fucking shook like I was fourteen.
“You asked if I ever thought about kissing you,” she continued.
“I did,” I confirmed, remembering the pool.
“I think about kissing you all the time,” she admitted. “At first it was because I figured kissing you
might shut you up, because you’re frustrating as hell, Axel. Then it was because your mouth is so
beautiful, and you pulled me out of a dancing cage before I could make an utter ass of myself. Then it was
because I wanted to know what you tasted like.” Every word was a caress against my lips.
“And now?”
“Now it’s because I know how you taste and I want more.” She ended the sentence with the lightest
kiss possible on my lower lip. “Please, Axel?”
I gave in and kissed her, backing her to the hallway wall and sinking into her mouth with all the pent-
up need of these last two weeks. My tongue stroked and plundered, taking her mouth over and over as
her nails bit into my neck.
Her thighs squeezed my waist, and her breasts pressed against my chest as she arched, looking for
more. I gave it to her. When her head fell back against the wall, I put my mouth to her neck, lifting her
with my arms to get an even better angle. I trailed kisses down her silken skin, savoring every single gasp
that left her lips as she rocked against me.
Her fingers abandoned my hair only to rip at her silk blouse.
Buttons flew.
The soft globes of her breasts appeared as she wiggled her way free from the blouse. I nearly
swallowed my tongue. Her bra was pale blue, her nipples distended and pushing at the lace with
eagerness.
I cupped one mound and groaned at the feel of her filling my hand. Langley was tall, but her frame so
graceful and lean that I never expected to find these waiting for me. “Fucking incredible,” I growled,
swiping a thumb across her nipple.
“Axel!” she cried out, pushing her breast into my hand.
I pinched her nipple lightly, then lifted her even higher, resting her ass on my forearm as I brought her
breast to my mouth. My lips closed over the tip, and I ran my teeth over the bud, using the lace and
friction to tease her into a delicious moan that I felt in my soul.
Then I sucked the tip between my lips and sucked, reveling in her gasp.
“Oh God, yes!” she rocked back against me before stiffening. “Wait!”
I immediately left her breast, pulling back to look into the lust-crazed eyes of my wife.
“Langley?” I questioned.
“It’s not supposed to happen like this. I mean, look at this bra. It’s easily two years old. Put me down.”
I set her feet to the hardwood, and she scurried toward the entry. “Get upstairs!” she yelled back.
One glance at her drunkenly stumbling at the stairs railing, her shopping bag in hand, and I was
behind her. The last thing she needed was a broken leg from tumbling down the stairs.
She hurried to our bedroom, which took up an entire wing of the second floor. The other side boasted
four more bedrooms, and other than the first day we’d explored, neither of us had gone back over.
“I don’t understand why you don’t like our bed,” she accused, gesturing to the canopied four-post as
she headed for the master bathroom, shutting the door in my face. “Wait there.”
“It’s not that I don’t like it,” I told her through the door, noting the thin, elegant frame that rose above
the bed. “It’s that it’s too...dainty.”
“So exchange it.” Her voice was muffled by the wood between us.
“You like it.”
“It’s. The only. Umpfh,” she groaned. “Feminine thing. In. This room. How the hell does this thing
work?”
I ignored the demand of my dick and let my head fall back against the wall. “How does what work?”
Because I knew exactly how this was supposed to work. She was supposed to be just as wild for me as I
was for her, and not just because she liked my body.
Everyone liked my body. I was a fucking professional athlete. My body was the last thing I gave a fuck
about when it came to the women I took to bed. Scratch that. The money was the last thing I wanted to be
complimented on. My body was next. It was a tool, and I was proud of it.
I just wanted Langley to want me more.
Because sure, her body was incredible, but her mind? Holy fucking sexy. Her courage? A total turn on.
Her loyalty to her friends? Fuck yes, I wanted that. Her smart mouth? Okay, that I wanted wrapped
around my cock, no lying, but it was incredible to hear her unleash that witty commentary.
The door opened, and my mouth hit the damned floor.
Her lips were kiss-swollen, and her hair tangled from my fingers. The rest of her? I was speechless.
“I think I got it twisted,” she slurred. “See? This strap,” she trailed her finger down the one that
bisected her breasts, “is supposed to be here.” She ran her hand under her arm to her hip.
“Uh huh,” I responded because I was supposed to, but I’d lost the power of thought.
She was wearing a spider-web, punctuated with thicker black straps that somehow still covered her
nipples. Thank God the underwear was separate because if she’d bared her pussy, all bets were off.
“See?” she demanded again, turning to the side so I saw her profile.
Fuck me, my wife was all willowy limbs and graceful curves. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth,
and my dick told me that if I couldn’t figure out how to get her out of that contraption, it could.
“Langley, you’re beautiful.”
She gifted me with a glowing smile, and that was the only warning before she poked me in the chest.
“Back up.”
I did, only because it kept me a few feet away from her body. Even if I thought we were ready—and we
weren’t—she was drunk. There was zero chance I was fucking her tonight.
 The whole no regrets plan meant I couldn’t leave room for them, not that I caused them.
My thighs hit the edge of the bed, and she pushed. I fell back onto my elbows and immediately
recognized my error, because she climbed up over me, straddling my cock, rubbing that thin layer of lace
over the eager head that pushed its way past the band of my athletic pants.
I hissed, my hands gripping her hips to still her movements.
“I wish I knew what I got wrong,” she muttered, looking at her negligée.
“It looks perfect to me,” I answered.
“That’s because you’re a boy.” Her eyes raked down my chest but stopped just short of where my cock
reached for my bellybutton. Hopefully, she couldn’t see because if her deft fingers got ahold of me...
“Well, you’re a man. A boy would have fucked me in Vegas,” she admitted with a huff.
“Is that what you want?” I challenged, sitting up and yanking up my pants so the head of my dick went
back where it was supposed to instead of inside Langley. “You want a boy to fuck you? To take you once so
you’re immediately gratified in the shallowest way?”
“I highly doubt anything about you is shallow,” she smirked, rocking her hips so she rubbed against my
dick.
Pure, blinding need raced down my spine and lodged in my balls. Fuck, I wanted her. But I always had.
That was nothing new.
“Trust me,” I told her, thrusting slowly so she felt every inch of me through the lace of her underwear.
“There’s more than enough for you. Now answer me? Do you want a boy?”
“I want you,” she groaned, her hands back in my hair.
“Well, I’m not a boy to take what he wants and leave you with an orgasm or two, Langley. I’m a man
focused on building your anticipation, your pleasure. Because once I get my hands on you, there won’t be
an orgasm or two, there will be a dozen. You’re going to want me so badly that you come the moment I
brush my finger over your clit.”
She whimpered.
“A boy would take what he wants because he doesn’t see past the need. This man knows exactly what’s
on the other side of it, and it’s so much bigger than either of us. I won’t settle for a hurried wedding night
in Vegas, or a quick romp in an airplane, wife. I’ll have you mindless with need, to where I’m all you think
about,” I promised, our eyes locked in a battle we were both going to win.
“I’m there,” she promised.
“You’re not,” I shook my head with a small, wry smile. “I’m there because I’ve got a year on you,
Langley. I’ve wanted you under me for a year. I think about you from the moment I wake up to the
moment I fall asleep. I think about the taste of your lips and the feel of your tongue. I fantasize about
what your eyes will look like when you come and what the rest of you will feel like pressed against my
lips. I wonder if you’ll clench around my tongue when I fuck you with my mouth. The only time I don’t
think about you is when I’m on the ice, and even then, you sneak into my thoughts.”
Her hazy eyes widened. “I think you could make me come from just talking to me,” she whispered.
“By the time I take you, trust me, you’ll be there,” I promised. “This isn’t just about sex between us,
Langley, and I’m not fucking this up just to get off once. Once won’t ever be enough with you.”
Her eyes dropped to my lips, and then she kissed me.
It was wild, wet, and thorough. My hands gripped her hips, keeping her still while I took her mouth
relentlessly. When her hands drifted down my chest, I moved them back to my neck. When she went to
untie her top, I moved her hands again. When she tried to slide back down my body, I kept her drunk ass
right where she was.
Kisses were all she was getting tonight, no matter how badly my body hated me.
When she rubbed against me again, I flipped her to her back. “Stop trying to get me to take you,” I
growled into her neck.
“You just feel really good,” she slurred. Her words were becoming increasingly unintelligible as if the
full effect of her afternoon and evening of drinking was just now hitting her.
“Yeah, well, not as good as you do,” I promised.
“Can you please turn this thing? It’s starting to rub,” she flipped onto her stomach, leaving me with a
view of the perfect curve of her ass with the thong threaded between her cheeks.
I was going to bite that ass.
Just not tonight.
I tugged on the negligée until it fell into place, then rubbed where it had left a red mark under her
arm. “Is that better, baby?” I asked.
No response.
“Baby?” I repeated.
She snored.
“And that,” I said, climbing off the bed to get one of my T-shirts, “is why I didn’t fuck you tonight,” I
told my passed out wife.
I maneuvered her into the shirt, then sent my hands up her back, deftly undoing the corset back with
quick yanks at the ties. Then I slid it down her incredible body so she could sleep comfortably and tucked
her in.
I was never going to survive marriage to Langley.
“F UCK , YOU ’ RE FAST ,” Lukas growled a week later as he finally hit the boards next to me after the drill.
“I’ve always been faster than you,” I answered with a shrug. “Besides, you know I’m used to a bigger
sheet of ice.” It was the fourth set of blue line drills we’d had to run because no one would work together,
and I’d fucking had it with all the whiny bitches on the ice.
Ice was for hockey, not for complaining.
“True,” he said, his chest heaving.
“Now that guy,” I motioned down the boards to Price, who shifted back and forth on his skates like he
was just waiting for another whistle. “He’s fucking fast.”
“There’s a reason they call him Cannon. He’s the fastest in the league,” Porter agreed from my other
side, his breathing labored. “Too bad he’s just as big of an asshole.”
Price turned slowly and raised a gloved middle finger.
“Right back at you,” Porter snapped. “Guy doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything but himself.”
“I haven’t seen that,” I argued as Gage McPherson skated toward us. I’d always respected him as a
player, so switching him to a coach in my mind was easy. I didn’t have a problem with authority as long as
I trusted the guy giving the orders.
Maybe Price was the same.
“Watch any of his games,” Porter answered.
“Okay, break up and let’s scrimmage,” Coach ordered.
He divided the lines, putting me at center, flanked by Price at right wing and Lukas at left, then
putting Connell MacDhuibh and Logan Ward on defense.
MacDhuibh didn’t take shit seriously from what I’d seen in the last couple of weeks, and Ward was
intense, but in a good way. Pretty boy didn't seem to let his looks go to his head, which was always a plus
in my book.
Puck dropped, and I won the face off. Didn’t hurt that I could fake out the rookie with one eye closed.
Poor kid. No wonder they’d come looking for me in Sweden.
I shot the puck to Lukas, who fired it back when he met Porter on the blue line. I saw my chance—
Thurston had his five-hole wide open. But Price had the better shot, so I sent the puck sailing toward him.
He caught it easily on his stick, deeked around Noble and shot it in. Clean shot, every time with that
guy.
He nodded at Thurston and tapped the top of his helmet in support as he skated by.
“Next shift!” Coach called out, and we all headed for the bench so the other two lines could have a
chance.
“You could have taken the shot,” Price growled as we filed into the bench.
“You had the better one,” I told him with a shrug. “My position isn’t about taking the shots, not like
yours is. Mine is about seeing the ice and knowing you had the better shot.”
“Every other center I’ve worked with would have taken the shot,” he answered, his nearly black eyes
narrowing.
“Guess that’s why they left the country to come get me, huh?” I shot water into my mouth and
swallowed.
“Must be,” Price nodded. He held out his fist, and I bumped it.
“Fucking kids,” Lukas muttered from next to me when Chandler and Caine dropped their gloves.
“Guess it’s drill number five.”
I was over the wall in an instant, shoving between the two. When Caine went back after Chandler, I
grabbed the back of his jersey. “Say that shit to my face, Canadian!”
“Asshole, you’re both Canadian,” I growled, holding him back.
“Canadien,” MacDhuibh answered with a shit-eating grin as he held Chandler back. “This guy is a
Maple Leaf, and the one you have is a Canadien.”
I threw Caine to the ice, letting his twenty-three-year-old ass fall. “You’re all wrong. Look at your
fucking jerseys.” I pointed to the Reaper on my chest. “Maybe that’s what you were, but guess what? Now
you’re a Reaper.”
“Last season—” Chandler started.
“Fuck last season!” I shouted. “I left my home for this! I left my ice, and my team, and my little
brother, and my fucking country for this! For you! For this season, not for last season! Maybe you’re
pissed that the expansion draft happened. Maybe you liked your old team. I honestly don’t give a shit. You
play in the best hockey league in the world, so what the fuck are you whining about? What I care about is
this team, this season. So if you two need to work your shit out, take it off the ice and work it out, because
I’m not running blue line drills all day because you can’t act like adults!”
They all looked at me, every single one of them on the ice and off it. With my luck, even Langley heard
me in her office.
“Expansion teams are hard,” I said loud enough for them to all hear. “You’re shoving everyone together
who came from different teams, different methods of play, different defenses and offenses. Hell, I think
your ice is too small. But if you pick each other apart now, we’re fucked when it comes to preseason, and
if you keep it up, we’ll get the number one draft pick next year.”
Everyone mumbled, knowing the last team in the rankings scored the number one draft pick.
“Pull your shit together and forget what your jersey said last year. Play for what’s on the front of your
damned jersey this year.” I skated off the ice as Coach called practice, no doubt ready to ream my ass for
laying into everyone.
“What the hell got into you?” Lukas asked, switching to Swedish as we headed for the locker room.
 “I’m sick of the whining and the grudges. They’re all on the same team, and we need to call them out
on it, or they’ll just keep it up. What?” I snapped when he narrowed his eyes in my direction.
“Axel, I’ve known you since we were kids, and I’ve never seen you lose your temper like that during a
practice. Even at games, you’re lethal, but you’re in control.”
“I’m firmly in control. It’s them who can’t get their shit together,” I waved at the people ahead of us.
Everything I’d said was true. I’d left Tage to be here. Tage, who’d only been on his own for a few weeks,
and now I was across the fucking ocean.
“Not disagreeing. I just think that maybe you need to blow off some steam.”
“I’ve been running eight miles a day,” I snapped, throwing my helmet under my arm.
“Right, that wasn’t the exercise I was thinking about,” Lukas hinted as we approached the locker
room.
“Don’t say it,” I warned him.
“My friend, you need to get laid.”
“Fuck you, Lukas,” I snapped.
“I only tell you this with the love in my heart,” he promised. “You’ve wanted Langley since she came to
Sweden a year ago. Fuck, you married the woman when I know you never had the intention of marrying
anyone. Maybe it’s time to let yourself have her.”
“Shut up.”
“Seriously, my friend. If you won’t do it for you—”
“Nyström!” Coach yelled from the hallway. “My office now!”
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“—then do it for the rest of us.”
I glared him into the locker room, and headed for Coach’s office.
I firmly expected him to yell, to curse, and mostly, to put me in my place.
He didn’t do the first two but went all the way with the third.
He handed me a Captain’s C.
I was the first Captain of the Carolina Reapers.
 6
LANGLEY

“W
hat’s the count up to now?” Echo asked as she poured the girls and me another round of
shots. I glanced over my shoulder, glaring at where a good deal of the Reapers’ starting line
sat at one of the round tables in the back left corner of the bar.
Lukas was howling at something Axel had said, while our right wing—Cannon Price—couldn’t be
bothered to crack a smile. Covered in tats and with a problematic record dating back before he’d played
for Detroit, he was the one I’d have to watch. His reputation primed him for a media meltdown I’d have to
clean up. Lucky for his future fallout, I was damn good at my job. I still hoped he surprised us all, though.
Noble and Porter drank club sodas and limes, their eyes focused on something on Porter’s iPad—likely
practice reels.
Exhaustion clung to Logan Ward’s—one of our defensemen—eyes as he declined yet another
provocative offer from one of the many puck bunnies that had come to frequent the bar the Reapers had
quickly laid claim to. The bunnies sashayed in and out, some scoring with the single players, but most not.
I was surprised to see Ward turn down so many—he was gorgeous, with hair as dark as his eyes and a
smile that could melt even the iciest of hearts. But I’d never seen him leave with anyone, shocking for one
of the single guys.
Players like Connell MacDhuibh—another of our defensemen—could score a chick with his Scottish
accent alone, not to mention his Jaime Lannister good looks and his Jim Halpert sense-of-humor. He’d
already pranked Axel, much to my admiration—anyone who could get my Viking to jump out of his skin
because he opened the locker room door only to have a giant bucket of ice water dumped on him had my
vote.
“Paging Boss-lady Langley,” Echo taunted, and I turned around in my barstool, shaking my head. “Did
you hear me?”
“I heard you, Gothic Princess,” I teased. “I was doing a mental tally,” I lied. I knew the exact number of
days it had been since my husband refused to sleep with me. “Seven agonizing weeks.”
Not so agonizing.
No.
These past few weeks had been some of the best in my life. The job was fantastic, and me and the girls
had made fast friends with Echo, and there was just something so damn wonderful about being
surrounded by strong, supportive women.
Plus, the home I had sneered at on day-one had now become this warm sanctuary I was eager to return
to after a hard day’s work. Even if the furthest I got with Axel was in my hottest dreams. Still, having him
in the bed next to me, his scent enveloping me, his warmth radiating beside me…it had filled those hollow
places inside me so much I rarely noticed them anymore.
“I’m so confused,” Faith said, shooting a glance to Axel before returning her attention to me. “It…
doesn’t make sense.”
Harper nodded her agreement, but Echo…Echo rolled her eyes.
“What was that?” I asked, draining my drink.
She shook her head.
“Out with it.” I leaned my elbows on the bar, giving her my full attention.
She mimicked my movement, so close only me and the girls could hear her. “I just had a wild idea.”
My brows shot up. “Listening.”
“Now, this may sound crazy, but why don’t you date him?” She laughed softly, never breaking our gaze.
“What?” I tilted my head.
She sighed. “Langley, you know I adore your control-freak, lady-boss ass, but try to take a step outside
this contracted business arrangement for a second.”
I tapped my empty glass but motioned for her to continue. She gave me a light pour and continued.
“He asked you to marry him because you said you were done dating. You told him all you wanted was
to be married because you were so exhausted from the idea of dating again. So, he gave you what you
wanted.”
“And?” I took a sip, totally clueless.
“Have you given him what he wants?”
I sank slightly in the barstool while Harper and Faith pressed their lips together and found the other
side of the bar incredibly interesting.
“Fucking hell,” I said, sighing. “I’m a complete bitch.”
Echo reached across the bar, laying her hand over my forearm. “Hey,” she said. “I’m the honorary
holder of that title here.”
 I laughed.
“Seriously,” she said. “You’re not a bitch. You’re a businesswoman treating this marriage like a
business. It’s natural for you. But, Axel? It seems like he’s looking for more than a surface level plan. He
wants to go deeper. Which means you need to meet him there for you both to get what you want.”
I sucked my teeth. “When he asked me…I thought it was a ploy to have guilt-free sex for six months
straight. I honestly never thought he’d actually want to get to know me.”
Faith snorted, and Echo cocked a brow at me. “I can see that,” she said, flashing me a smirk as she
took her hand back. “Why would anyone want to get to know a Harry Potter-loving, career-driven,
intelligent, sexy AF woman with a killer sense of humor?”
My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard.
“You’re incredibly perceptive,” Harper said. “Do you have degrees in psychology?”
Echo cleared her throat, shaking her head. “The only degree I have is in mixology. Tell me another
person who makes your coveted appletinis as well as me?”
“No such person exists,” Harper said, cheersing Echo with said appletini.
“You’re a good egg,” Faith said, smiling at Echo, who shrugged and focused on me.
“So?” she asked. “What are you going to do?”
A smile shaped my lips, and I fished my cell from my bag. “I’m going to date my husb—omigod!!” I
jolted out of my barstool as I read the text on the screen.
“What is it? What’s happening?” Echo asked, her eyes scanning me as I gaped at my phone, happy
tears filling my eyes.
“Langley?” Axel’s voice sounded behind me, his hand on my back.
I smiled up at him, turning the cell so he could see the text. “My lawyer,” I said. “They’ve ruled that I
have full rights and official custody of Hufflepuff!”
The girls clapped and cheered, and before I knew what I was doing, I threw my arms around Axel’s
neck, so damn happy to know that the next time I went to Seattle, I could legally obtain my beloved
tabby.
Axel held me to him, my feet off the floor. “That’s wonderful, min enda kärlek,” he said before
returning me to my feet. Faith’s eyebrows rose, recognition clicking in her eyes, and I made a mental note
to ask her what those damn words meant. I’m sure Lukas had taught her a few Swedish terms and Axel
had been calling me that since our first trip in Sweden.
“Drinks on me!” I hollered, the Reapers clapping at my declaration. Axel just laughed, and Echo gave
me a pointed look.
Right.
The idea I’d had before I’d gotten sidetracked. Something special. Something that would be solely for
Axel.
I turned to him, placing a hand on his chest. Butterflies flapped in my stomach, and I almost laughed at
my coiling nerves. I’d slept in the same bed as this man for seven weeks, how could I be shy now?
“Axel,” I said, and he leaned down so he could hear me over the excited chatter of the Reapers. “Would
you like to go somewhere with me this evening?” It was only a little after five now, if I hustled I could
swing a later date.
He pulled back enough to look at me, an eyebrow cocked. “Is it a business meeting?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “No, it’s a surprise.”
Intrigue flashed in his eyes. “Absolutely.”

“T HE P ROVOST D UNGEON once housed prisoners during the Revolutionary War,” the tour guide said as he
led us and a handful of other tour-goers through the arched brick and into said dungeon. “Most were
jailed for treason or sedition, and more than a few had their final days within these walls.”
A cold chill raced down my spine, the hair on the back of my neck rising the farther the guide took us
into the dungeon. Salt and brine and musk scented the air, as if history itself had been trapped between
the bricks. Iron bars covered the few moonlit windows carved into the brick, the night sky beyond only
adding to the other-worldly atmosphere. Mannequins in historical garb, surrounded by period-accurate
artifacts, completed the eerie picture—each step like taking a walk into the past.
“Legend has it many of those spirits haunt these very dungeons. Be sure to be mindful of that and
respect their space,” the tour guide continued before giving our group free rein to explore at our leisure
for a few minutes.
“This is incredible,” Axel said, guiding us toward one of the deepest parts of the dungeon. The exposed
brick arches narrowed over a set of double wooden doors with slits of iron in the top portion. The
burnished-gold light illuminating the doors made it look like a room from Hell that beckoned only the
bravest—or the rashest—souls to enter.
“Totally,” I said, stepping closer to him in an attempt to ward off the chill. I swore there was a draft in
here because every so often it was like someone softly blew cold air onto the back of my neck.
Axel chuckled and casually tucked me under his arm, his heat instantly enveloping me. “If you’re
scared of this sort of thing,” he said, glancing down at me, “then why did you book this tour?”
I swallowed down the nerves that had been eating at me all night. This…this was definitely a date. No
matter how I tried to deny it. Echo was right. I had wanted to do this for Axel. Wanted to do something
just for him. Because despite him being officially my husband, he had become my friend these past
weeks.
A confidant.
A supporter.
Someone who believed in my work and took my sass without falling over. He deserved a fun night
tapered to his likes, and from the look on his face, I’d chosen exactly right.
“I wanted to do something nice for you,” I finally said. “And you love Stephen King so I assumed you
would like all creepy things.”
Another smile—this one so surprising and genuine and raw. This light made his hazel eyes more brown
than green, but heat and appreciation crackled there.
“I knew you were good at your job,” Axel said, a tease in his voice. “Lukas told me. But you really do
know how to read a client.”
The word clanged through my chest with a sting. Was that truly all we were? Clients? I suppose that
was the basest term for our arrangement. But tonight…and earlier when we’d celebrated my lawyer’s
news about Hufflepuff…it had felt real. This felt real—tucked into his side, learning about the history of
this incredible town that now was home to the Reapers. Was I imagining it?
“Hey, min enda kärlek,” he said, stopping to smooth the wrinkle between my brows. “You are not a
client to me.”
Had I spoken out loud? Or could he simply read those fears on my face?
That finger trailed the line of my jaw and down the seam of my neck. “You are—”
“Who is ready to move on to one of Charleston’s oldest cemeteries?” The tour guide cut off whatever
Axel had been about to say. Instead, he smiled softly at me, trailing that hand all the way down to mine
before interlocking our fingers.
“Can you handle a bit more?” he asked, the question sincere. If I said the word, he’d take me straight
home.
Home.
Not a bad place to be.
Not anymore.
But tonight wasn’t about me.
Tonight was about Axel.
My friend.
My husband.
And maybe what was more terrifying than the ghosts we chased that night was the fact that my heart
—that once hollow piece of my soul—was starting to hope he might be even more than that.
 7
AXEL

“T
hat was unbelievable,” I told Langley as we walked into our home. I knew she still kept her
apartment down by the arena. She hadn’t been willing to give up what she called a “prime
location” for something as temporary as we were. I understood.
I also smiled every time I saw her hauling in yet another box from the apartment because she’d found
something she couldn’t live without. Part of me was hoping I’d start to be one of those things.
“It was cool,” she admitted, hanging her purse on the hooks by the door. My keys hung on the next
hook. Both sat under a framed picture from our wedding. The flight attendants caught our post-cupcake
kiss on camera before it turned less-than-chaste, and I treasured the picture.
It might be all she left me with come February.
We’d been married seven weeks, which meant in just another two, I’d buy another dozen red velvet
cupcakes, just like I had last month. She’d laughed, but turned oddly quiet when I told her I only had six
months of anniversaries to celebrate with her, so I was going to make sure she’d savor every one.
But tonight, that armor she wore around her heart cracked a little. She took me out. Took me to do
something she thought I’d enjoy even though she had no interest. For the first time since I slid that ring
on her finger in Vegas, I began to hope.
She pulled a pint of ice cream from the freezer, took a spoon from the drawer, and jumped back so she
sat on the kitchen island. Her tan legs held all of my attention against the white granite as she adjusted
the dress she was wearing.
“So how are you feeling about that C?” she asked before spooning a bite of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky
Monkey.
“I’d feel a lot better if it came with a cohesive team,” I answered, moving to stand in front of her. The
kitchen lights danced off the diamonds on her left hand as she swirled the spoon for another bite.
“You’ll get them there.” She held out the spoon, and I leaned forward, taking the offered bite.
“Practices are already going better, at least from what I can tell.”
“We lost five out of seven preseason games.”
She shrugged. “Preseason doesn’t matter.”
“It will if the trend continues. They’re so busy picking each other apart that they can’t pull it together.”
I took another offered bite, savoring the sweet chill.
“They will. First home game is tomorrow night. I bet they step up. At least, I really hope they do.
There’s some real talent on that team.” She licked her lower lip before taking a bite for herself, then
looked at the counter with a puckered brow.
“Me, too. I’d hate for the season to be over before it even begins.” I followed her line of sight. “What
are you searching for?” The kitchen was huge, and the island was no exception, but there wasn’t a speck
on the granite.
“I was just thinking that Faith was right. The counters are a perfect height. Plus, you’re a little taller
than Lukas.” She shoved another bite of ice cream between her lips.
My eyebrows rose. “Perfect height for? I mean, counters are counters, right?”
“No, these feel a little higher, which is perfect for someone as gigantic as you are.” She pointed the
spoon up and down my body before stabbing another bite and holding it out.
I leaned in and took it, then watched my wife’s eyes track the movement of my mouth.
Counters. Right. It all clicked, and I would have laughed if I wasn’t already so turned on from having
been out with her all evening.
I gripped her upper thighs and separated them, then stepped between her knees when she gasped.
“Uh...hi?” She looked up at me, and her pupils flared.
Taking hold of her hips, I pulled her to the edge of the counter, and she opened her thighs wider to
accommodate my hips. There were too many layers of fabric separating us between my jeans and her
dress, but I got the point, and by the way her lips parted, she felt exactly where my erection hit her.
“Yep, perfect height,” I whispered. “You’re absolutely right.”
Her breath left in a shaky sigh. “Right. I mean, if I believed in kitchen sex. Which I don’t.”
“You don’t?” My thumbs traced the line where her thighs met her hips. How could she not when I was
literally between her legs? I could be inside her with a few quick motions, and at this angle, she’d enjoy
every damned second.
“No.” She shook her head slowly. “I’m down for every other room, but this one? I mean, we prepare
our food here. I bleach this counter almost every day.”
“I can hire someone to bleach the counters.” I tugged her closer, so she was right against me, and
nearly groaned. Keeping my hands off her for these last seven weeks had been almost impossible.
 “Not the point.” She completely voided her statement by wrapping her legs around my waist, locking
her heeled ankles behind my back. Fuck, I wanted to feel them against my ass as I drove into her. Every
single day my control frayed just a little more, and at this point, it felt like I was barely hanging on by a
thread. And I wasn’t against sex. I loved sex. But I wasn’t letting her think this was just sex, and she still
hadn’t gotten that point yet.
I could fuck any puck bunny that walked into Scythe, but I wanted to make love to my wife. God, I
hoped she was close to understanding that because I was close to not caring anymore.
“The point is?” I slid my hands to her bare knees.
“It’s the kitchen, Axel.” She raised her eyebrows at me.
“I’m well aware.” I sent my hands up her legs until I reached the hem of her dress. Then I slid them
farther, until I felt the soft skin of her upper thighs. “You think it gets too messy? I mean, I never really
took you for a bedroom-only girl. Or an in-the-box girl, really.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not a prude if that’s what you’re implying. How could I be when I’ve been
trying to jump you since we said ‘I do’ ?” She gasped and looked at her wrist, where the ice cream she’d
forgotten to eat had melted down the spoon and assaulted her skin.
“I don’t think you’re a prude.” I bent my head, my eyes still locked with hers, and licked her wrist
clean, then stole what hadn't melted at the end of the spoon. “I think you haven’t had sex good enough to
make you not care where you are.”
Her lips pursed. “I’ve had good sex. But trust me, no sex is good enough to make me forget that this is
the counter I bake cupcakes on. There’s just a place for these things, Axel.”
I almost laughed, because Langley barely cooked, let alone baked. She was all work, the same as me,
but keeping my body fit was one of my work priorities, so most of that fell to me.
“I can see your point.” I leaned in and placed a kiss at the corner of her jaw. Damn, she smelled good,
all citrus and rain. “I mean, it can get pretty messy when you do it right.”
Her head rolled back, and the spoon clattered to the granite when I kissed a path down her neck,
toward where the top of her dress tied. “Is that right?” Her hands met the granite as she braced her
weight behind her slightly.
My hands moved, and she gasped as if she’d forgotten that I’d left them on her thighs. I sent my thumb
to trace the line of her thong and her hips jerked when I followed it from the top of her thigh all the way
to her opening.
“Axel,” she said on a sigh as my lips passed over hers.
We’d been on a date tonight, and dates ended with a goodnight kiss, right? Right.
“I bet if I move this aside, I’ll find you wet and ready for me, wouldn’t I?” I asked, running my thumb
over her clit and pressing slightly through the fabric.
“Yes,” she admitted, her hips rocking.
“But you wouldn’t be wet enough,” I whispered, kissing the side of her mouth. “Not until you’re
dripping and mindless.”
“Axel, please,” she whimpered, her hips moving against my hand.
I moved her thong to the side and put my fingers on her. She was already wet, slick, and so fucking
soft that I almost lost it. Almost forgot that her body wasn’t my endgame, her heart was.
She jolted upright with a cry. One of her hands untied the leather strap that held my hair, and the other
gripped the back of my neck. “Oh my God.”
“Hold tight,” I ordered, then abandoned her willing flesh so I could get ahold of her ass. She had a
thing against kitchens? I’d show her they were one of the best places to fuck, but not tonight. I had to
conquer Langley like I did every other obstacle in my life. One. Bite. At. A. Time.
“I didn’t want to stop,” she admitted, kissing my neck.
“We’re not,” I promised. “I owe my wife a goodnight kiss.”
She practically purred. “I like the sound of that.”
I carried her through our kitchen and into our den, laying her on the wide, soft, leather couch that we
spent our evenings on. Then I braced my weight on my forearm as I settled between her thighs and kissed
her breathless.
It started sweet and soft, then moved to deep and hot. I thrust my tongue against hers, dipping in
swirls and lighter touches until she yanked at my hair to pull me deeper. I gave the woman what she
wanted, inhaling her moans even as I coaxed them from her lips.
My hand journeyed from her raised knee to her inner thigh, and then over the soaked fabric of her
panties. I sat up long enough to pull the white scrap of lace down her thighs, over her knees, and past her
shoes until they landed on the floor.
Her eyes widened and darkened, her breath coming in little pants as I tested my face. I’d shaved
throughout preseason as was my tradition, and I’d do so until we won our first regular season game. Yep,
the skin was still smooth. Perfect for inner thighs.
Then I raised her dress to her waist, leaving her bare from bellybutton to heels. Her legs were long
and lean, and the area between her thighs? Fuck me, she was waxed clean except for a small strip of dark
curls just above her cleft.
“Christ, Langley, you’re perfect.” I ran a finger down her slit, and her hips bucked upward. “Fucking.
Perfect.”
“Get up here and give me the kiss you promised,” she ordered, looking at me like I was next on her
dessert menu.
I answered her with a smirk, then slid back on the couch until my shoulders lay between her thighs.
 “What are you doing?” she asked as I kissed the silken skin of her thigh.
“Giving my wife a goodnight kiss, just like I promised.” She might not be emotionally ready to take my
cock, but I’d know how my wife tasted before the end of tonight. She’d know just one of the ways that I
could bring her to orgasm.
“Axel!” she cried out as I set my mouth on her.
I pulled her legs over my shoulders and locked her thighs with my hands as I tongued at her clit,
swirling around the swollen bud, but never giving her the direct friction she was arching at me for.
My tongue ran long sweeps from her opening to her clit, waking up every nerve ending and taking in
her honeyed, heady taste. Fuck, she was impossibly sweet. I was never going to get enough of this.
Over and over I licked at her until her hips writhed under me and her moans turned to begging
whimpers of please.
Then I entered her with my tongue, thrusting over and over as she clenched at me. My dick swelled to
an impossible hardness, knowing she’d clamp down just as hard when it was my cock driving into her
instead.
“Axel!” Langley cried, her fingers tangling in my hair, both tugging and holding me to her in
desperation. She was arching against me, her hips bucking as she sought her completion. Her deep
brown eyes met mine, almost wild in her pleasure.
I replaced my tongue with two fingers and groaned with how tight she was. Fuck, I was going to
stretch her when the time finally came to take her.
“Yes!” she cried, rocking down on my fingers, ready to take her orgasm herself.
“Fuck, you’re so responsive,” I growled. This woman was a damned dream, stretched out beneath me
with no false modesty or hesitation. She knew exactly what she wanted, which had me turned on to the
point where I felt drops of wet inside my boxer briefs.
My cock was literally weeping with the need to get inside of her.
“Please, baby, please,” she cried, her plea echoed in her eyes.
Moving my fingers to find her inner nerve bundle, I sucked her clit between my lips and flicked it with
my tongue.
She screamed.
Her body locked, rigid, her muscles straining, as I flicked at her again. Then I pressed her clit with my
tongue, pumping her with my fingers, and she came apart.
Her orgasm shook her legs and drew a loud cry from her lips that formed my name. Over and over her
body rocked, riding the wave, and just as she started to let up, I withdrew my fingers and pressed her clit
again with my thumb, sending her on a second orgasm that had her crying louder than the first.
There was a ringing in my head from the need to thrust inside her, to feel her legs wrapped around me
as I pushed into her again and again. I needed to fuck her more than I needed air, or food, or even my
own heartbeat.
The ringing intensified, and my ass was vibrating.
I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and stared at it, confused for a moment in my lust. My
thumb answered it on auto-pilot even as I cursed myself seven times a fool.
“What?”
“Will you accept a collect call from the Charleston County Jail?” the automated voice asked. “Connell
MacDhuibh,” Connell’s voice filled the receiver before switching back to the automated one. “Press one
for yes.”
I pressed one and cursed, bringing myself to sit beside Langley.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, lowering her dress over her thighs and sitting up. Her hair was loose and
now looked like she’d been nearly, thoroughly fucked.
“I’m going to kill Connell, that’s what,” I growled.
“Well, don’t kill me too quickly. You might need me tomorrow night,” he answered, his Scottish accent
burring his r’s. “And if you don’t need me, then you definitely need Price and Ward, because they’re in
here with me. And so are Caine and Chandler, so...”
“What the fuck did you do?” I snapped, already missing the sight of Langley’s spread thighs.
“We got into a wee bar fight at Scythe.”
“With each other?” I shouted.
“Och, no. Of course not. Some Hurricanes fans, assholes.” He cleared his throat. “But we were hoping
maybe you’d come down and post bail so we don’t have to bother Coach?” His tone lifted in a plea.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in forty minutes,” which was the driving time to downtown Charleston. “Or as long
as it takes me to find the damned jail. I can’t believe you.”
“Thank you. We owe you.”
“You have no idea how much.” I hung up the phone and raked my hand through my hair.
“Baby?” Langley asked, already slipping her panties back up her legs.
Every childish part of me wanted to whine, no! Instead, I took a deep breath. “Well, as the Reapers’
PR, you’d know anyway, so we need to bail out MacDhuibh, Price, Ward, Caine, and Chandler. Apparently,
they got into a bar fight.”
Her eyes widened slightly before she nodded. Then a transformation came over her. “I need three
minutes.” She raced by me, her heels taking the stairs two at a time.
“Good, because it’s going to take me longer than that to get my dick to go down,” I muttered.
She reappeared with her hair and makeup perfect, and her messenger-bag style briefcase over her
shoulder. “Let’s go. I have the directions.” She had a wide smile on her face as we headed for the new
Rover I’d bought when we moved in.
“What’s got you grinning?” I asked, opening her door for her, which I did even after she told me it
wasn’t necessary.
“Besides the fantastic double orgasm you just gifted me with?” she asked as I climbed in next to her.
“Don’t even bring that up,” I growled. “I’m already harder than the damned gear shift.
“I’d take care of that, you know. If you’d let me,” she said, her smile damn near devious. “And,” she
continued. “I was thinking that at least the team did something together.”
I tried to glare at my wife but ended up laughing as we pulled out of the driveway.

G UESS IT WORKED , because we won our first home game the next night, five to three. We marched out of
the bench at the Reaper Arena like the badasses we were.
I stopped just outside the bench when I saw the brunette in the suit that brought me to the Reapers in
the first place. Then I ditched my helmet, passed Lukas’ wife at her side, and kissed my wife senseless,
taking her until she didn’t care that I dripped sweat onto her designer threads.
“I’m proud of you,” she whispered against my lips, touching the cheeks that would no longer be
smooth after tonight’s win.
Yeah, that was worth fucking everything.
 8
LANGLEY

“T
his. Is. Awkward.” I stood on the wrong side of the Seattle Sharks’ arena, watching as the
Reapers took the ice for morning skate. We were scheduled to face off against the Sharks
tonight. My past and my present, all out there and exposed. Good God, I couldn’t imagine
how Lukas, Noble, Porter, and Gage felt. The other Reapers had little stake in this game, but my boys?
This would hurt, no matter the outcome.
“You can say that again.” Faith nodded. “Not that it wasn’t nice to have dinner with Eric last night, but
yikes. I’ve never cheered against him.”
“This is the NHL,” Harper said from the other side of Faith where we sat in the visitors’ family box.
“This happens.”
Faith and I shared a smirk. “So what? Your brother buys the Reapers, you invent a revolutionary
helmet, and suddenly you know the ins and out of the business?” I teased her.
Harper laughed, shrugging. “You knew it wouldn’t be long before I figured out this game.”
“You always do,” Faith said. “But—”
“Holy hell!” I cut her off as we all jumped to our feet. Fields, our goalie, was down. “What just
happened?”
“Wasn’t that our backup goalie?” Harper asked, concern in her eyes.
“Yes,” Faith said. Thurston, our starting goalie, immediately headed toward Fields, as did Hartman, the
goaltending coach. “Shit, he’s grabbing his knee.” She bit her lip. Eric Gentry—her brother and Seattle
Sharks’ goalie—had suffered a knee injury that had kept him out a season. She knew how hard it could be
on a player.
“What the hell are we going to do if we lose Thurston, too?” Harper asked.
Gage was already on the ice with the trainers, and Axel shot a worried glance in my direction.
Whatever he heard down there, it wasn’t good.
Holy shit, they were carrying him off the ice.
“We need an emergency goalie on contract,” Faith said, her eyes locked on Lukas.
“A one-game contract,” I said, vaguely remembering the rule. Being on the road with one goalie
already down meant we had to contract out an emergency goalie for a one-game contract. Sometimes it
was one from the farm team or a local college player—
I glanced between Faith and Harper, lightbulbs hitting us at the same time.
“Sawyer,” we all said in unison.
“Call him!” I urged Faith.
“You get down there and talk it out with Gage,” she said, already dialing on her cell.
Sawyer McCoy had been two seconds away from being selected for the Seattle Sharks at open tryouts.
He’d been a hairsbreadth slower than the other goalie, but he could absolutely hold his own if Thurston
went down tonight, too. I hurried through the stands, positioning myself in Gage’s line of sight as he came
back from the ice.
“Nyström?” he paused in the tunnel. I knew he was anxious to follow Fields, but he was still teasing me
about my name change, so he wasn’t at max stress level.
“Pierce-Nyström,” I corrected him when I saw Axel skate by. “We need an emergency goalie on the
bench for tonight, right? In case Fields can’t come back?” I leaned over the thick metal bar that looked
over the tunnel as he walked to stand beneath me.
“Jesus, Nyström, don’t fall. Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. Fields says he heard a pop, which means
I’m not letting him back on that ice today.”
“Pierce-Nyström,” I reminded him with an eye roll. “I have a local connection.”
“Who?”
Lukas and Noble walked into the tunnel behind him—both barely winded.
“Sawyer McCoy. U-Dub grad. Played all four years of college,” I suggested. “Emergency goalie,” I said
to Lukas and Noble, filling them in quickly.
“And he personally trained with Gentry for open tryouts,” Lukas added. “He nearly made the Sharks
roster.”
Noble nodded. “Good guy. He’s talented, keeps his nose clean, and works hard. If lightning strikes and
Thurston goes down, McCoy will own the goal.”
Gage deliberated for a few seconds, no doubt going through his mental hockey contact list. “Make the
call,” he said.
“Already done,” Faith said, leaning over the rails to smile at her husband.
“Stop leaning over the rails, you two. It’s bad enough having an injured player without freaked out
husbands and injured wives. I’ll phone Silas for the one-day contract,” he said. “Bring him to the second-
floor conference room when he gets here.”
I nodded, flashing Axel a wink as he skated toward us before I spun on my heels and clicked to the
player’s entrance, Faith hot on my heels. She was turning out to be a hell of a second in command when it
came to the Reaper’s PR team, but I still wondered if she felt any bitterness that she’d given up her
newborn business to follow Lukas.
Half an hour later—and with one modification Faith had suggested that Silas had raised an eyebrow at
—Sawer McCoy signed a one-game contract with the Reapers.
Eight hours after that, just before the Reapers were due to arrive at the arena for the game, Faith,
Harper, and I sat with Sawyer in the empty locker room.
Faith and Harper were there because they’d been his roommate for years before they fell for their
skaters. The three were tight as friends. Sawyer didn’t exactly have a ton of family support around him,
and they more than made up for it. I was there because two girls and a player in the locker room was a
PR nightmare. Three made it an official visit since I was here in a PR capacity, especially with Gage
standing in front of us.
Sawyer sat on the locker room bench, the Reapers jersey dangling between his knees as he held it in
his hands.
“You sure there isn’t anyone I can leave a ticket for at will call?” Gage asked. “You’re entitled, and they
can sit in the family box. Mom, dad, siblings, girlfriend...whomever you want.”
“No, Sir. There’s no one,” he said it quietly, his eyes focused on the McCoy emblazoned on the back of
the jersey. “My mom isn’t...capable, and I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.”
Gage’s brow puckered, but Faith gave him a subtle shake of her head as she put her hand supportively
on Sawyer’s back.
“She’s going to be so excited to hear about it.” Faith gave him a watery smile.
“Yeah, I already called, and her nurse promised to put the game on her TV.” He forced a grin. “And you
getting her an extra jersey was over the top.” His gaze shifted to Gage. “Thank you for the opportunity,
Sir.”
“According to my guys and gals,” he gestured to us, “you earned it.” Gage let him savor the moment
for a few precious seconds before he said, “You good?”
Sawyer blinked rapidly, nodding. “All good. Thank you, again.”
Gage nodded and flashed me a look. “You three better get out of here before the players show. The bus
is due in five minutes.” A playful smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “I’m well aware of previous
histories with locker rooms...especially in this arena.” His gaze shifted to Harper and Faith, who blushed.
“I don’t care whose rings are on your fingers, you’re distractions, especially you,” he pointed at me. “I
need that fierce Swedish warrior I signed tonight, not the love-sick teddy bear who throws mooneyes at
his wife.”
“And Bailey doesn’t cause the same reaction?” Faith teased Gage.
“My wife…” Red crept up his neck. “Well, that’s why she’s not allowed in the locker room, either.” He
glanced around. “Definitely not this one. See you in a few,” he said to Sawyer and then walked out,
whistling.
“I still can’t believe this,” Sawyer said, running his thumb over the jersey.
“You’ll do amazing,” I said, resisting the urge to squeal about his opportunity.
“I’m not rooting for Thurston to get hurt,” he said, standing from the bench and hanging the jersey
behind him. He shook his head again when he saw his name on the locker itself.
“I’m not either,” I said, smacking his shoulder. “But you could at least be excited about this. If Gage
gets to see you play—”
“This,” he cut me off, motioning to the Reapers jersey. “Is the closest I’ll ever get to the NHL, Langley.”
He sighed, running his hand over his cropped, brown hair. “And I’m fine with that. I can’t believe you had
him add that clause, Faith.” His eyes were soft, but his brow furrowed when he looked at his previous
roommate.
“What?” she shrugged. “It was actually Eric’s idea. I called him, and he told me to make sure you had a
try-out clause. You can’t get mad at a girl for wanting the best for one of her closest friends, Sawyer.”
“I’m not mad.” He stripped off his shirt with little fuss and opened his gear bag.
I got an eyeful of cut abs and smooth skin before I looked away. Apparently, Faith and Harper were
used to it because they carried on the conversation like the guy wasn’t half naked.
“Good,” Harper stated matter-of-factly. “Because that clause means if you play tonight, you’re
automatically invited to try out for next year’s roster. It was a stroke of genius, Faith.”
“Thank you, Harper, I was quite proud of Eric for suggesting it.”
Sawyer pulled on a fitted Under Armour tee, and I stopped averting my eyes. I’d never felt awkward in
a hockey locker room, especially given my job, but I’d also never been someone’s wife before.
God, if I could sit in the locker room and watch my husband strip? I’d watch that show all night long.
“I’m just done with pipe dreams,” Sawyer said to the girls. “This night is amazing, and I’ll never be
able to thank you enough for it. But I’m also a realist. Have to say, it means a hell of a lot that you two are
here.” He smiled at me, “You, too, Langley.”
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Faith stood and threw her arms around her friend. “Even if our
guys weren’t the ones you were suiting up with, we’d be here for you.”
“We’re really glad it is, though, because statistically—” Sawyer pulled Harper into their group hug,
effectively muffling whatever data she was about to ramble off.
 “Sorry, Langley, no hug for you. Your husband is fucking terrifying,” Sawyer said with a grin over the
girls’ heads. Guy was almost as tall as Axel, which was saying something.
The locker room doors burst open, and Gage glared at us as players filed in.
“We were just leaving!” Faith squeaked, slapping Lukas’ ass on the way out.
“Drinks after the game!” Sawyer called out, and Faith threw a thumbs up.
“Damn straight,” Lukas answered, slapping Sawyer on the back. “Damn, it’s good to see your face!”
Sawyer was swamped with Reaper support, and I smiled.
Harper stole a kiss when Noble walked by.
Not a bad idea.
My husband walked in, all tall and gorgeous and sporting a shadow beard that made me wonder how it
would feel against my thighs.
“What are you doing—”
I silenced his question with a kiss, loving that he leaned down before I even rose up. It was quick, soft,
and chaste, but packed with meaning.
“Mooneyes!” Gage accused.
“Yeah, yeah!” I called over my shoulder. “Break some Shark hearts tonight, would you?” I asked Axel,
letting my finger brush over his wedding band.
“Just because you asked so nicely,” he murmured.
“Get out of here Nyström!” Gage barked.
Axel’s eyes swung his direction.
“Not you, the other one!” Gage clarified.
I winked at my husband and suddenly felt a hell of a lot less awkward in Shark territory as I walked out
of the locker room. It didn’t hit me until I found Faith and Harper that I hadn’t corrected Gage that time.

A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER , I left the Reapers to celebrate their win—some past and present Sharks
gathering to catch up—and headed toward the one place I’d wanted to go since touching down in Seattle.
Dread coiled in my stomach like a cold spring, but the reward would be beyond worth enduring the sight
of my ex.
I reminded myself of that fact ten times on the elevator ride up to his flat.
What used to be our place, though I’d kept my own apartment close to the office in the instances of
those long work nights. Kind of like I did in Charleston—but I hadn’t slept there once since marrying Axel.
The most time I spent in the place was to grab items I wanted to move into the house.
Our home.
Axel’s and mine.
A ripple of warmth licked my skin, making my insides clench with want.
Axel had blown my mind with his special goodnight kiss...right between my thighs. God, the man made
me see stars, rivers of them, a torrent of emotion and energy pouring out of me with every pass of his
tongue. It was an unleashing, the way he’d broken down every single wall I’d carefully crafted. He hadn’t
just picked the lock on my body, but my heart. And that scared the shit out of me.
But it excited me too. And that was something. Plus, I loved living with Axel.
My ex? It had been a relief to spend nights at my own apartment when work called for it. I enjoyed the
time away, the break from his constant critiques.
Looking back, a part of me always knew we wouldn’t work out. Some unconscious recognition that the
man didn’t appreciate me for who I was, only what he’d wanted me to be. I used that fire in my blood to
turn my nerves to ash and knocked on his door.
It swung open an annoying length of time later.
Devon leaned against the doorframe, a smug smile on his face.
I eyed his attire.
“Hot date?” I asked, noting the amount of Armani draped over his body.
“Naturally,” he said, pursing his lips. “You didn’t expect me to pine over you forever, did you?”
I returned his glare. “Definitely not. Though, I must say I didn’t expect you to hold my cat hostage for
months on end.” I practically hissed at him. “Where is she?” I moved to step into the apartment, but he
blocked my way.
My hackles rose at the power move.
“You’re no longer welcome here,” he said. “You made that decision the day you chose yourself over me.
Over us. But, then again, I suppose you’ve always been selfish.”
The words hit their mark, despite the armor I pretended to wear. I didn’t let him see an inch of the
sting. “Then get my fucking cat, and I’ll do you the service of never coming back.”
Asshole. How could he be so cruel when we had once planned to spend our lives together? I hadn’t
harbored any true hate for the man until he’d denied me my cat for months on end.
“So ladylike, Lang, as always.” He rolled his eyes, clucking his tongue at me as he turned into his
apartment, leaving me in the hallway.
A soft meow had all the ice in my veins melting, and two breaths later, he shoved a ball of orange and
yellow fluff at me.
“Oh,” I said, instantly stroking her fur. “Hufflepuff my sweet angel. Did the mean old doctor treat you
all right?” I glared up at him. “Her things?”
 “That wasn’t part of the arrangement with the lawyers.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I hissed, Hufflepuff curling against my chest. “What possible use could
you have for a cat carrier and toys?”
“That’s none of your business anymore,” he said. “And since I helped pay for those things, I’ll keep
them.”
I rolled my eyes and gave him a vulgar gesture with my free hand. Devon’s eyes widened at the sight
of the diamond on my left-hand ring finger. My cell rang, and I quickly fished it out. Axel’s name lit up the
screen and for a moment I debated answering it, but quickly silenced it. I would call him back in a little
while when I was done with this mess.
“You certainly didn’t wait long.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, petting Hufflepuff who purred against my chest.
He motioned toward my ring. “Aren’t hockey wives supposed to be beck and call girls? Shocked you
silenced him.”
“Oh, get over yourself,” I said. “We’re done here.” I spun on my heels, not bothering to give him any
more satisfaction in hurting me.
“Have a nice life, puck bunny!” he called down the hallway.
I smiled down at Hufflepuff, again resorting to that vulgar gesture as my parting gift to him. “Don’t
worry, Hufflepuff,” I said, pushing the elevator button. “You never have to see that mean man again.”
A weight lifted off my chest, despite the four-pound ball of fur curled against it. The closure—getting
my baby back—was exactly what I needed to move on. But as I rode the elevator down to the ground
level, I couldn’t help but think about me silencing Axel’s call. How easy it had been to ignore his needs
and put my own first.
Guilt gnawed at my insides. I assumed he’d been with the players, celebrating and catching up. That’s
why I’d waited to handle this situation on my own, not wanting to drag him into my mess.
But…what if by not taking his call, I was showing him he didn’t matter? What if I was expected to be
more available now that we were technically married?
I chewed it over as I shopped for Hufflepuff’s new carrier to take on the plane. And with each second
that ticked by and I didn’t call him back, Devon’s jabs hit home.
Would I ever be able to put a man before my career? Before myself? Or was I destined to be viewed as
the cold business bitch who worked too much? Couldn’t I be both? The cutthroat businesswoman who
loved her job and a flesh and blood woman with needs who enjoyed having a man who supported her
choices as well? Did it have to be one or the other?
Axel had never once indicated that he’d make me choose, but I couldn’t help but be terrified of living
the same mistakes over and over again. I would not be forced to choose again. Never. Not after Devon
had so thoroughly broken me over it.
Axel is nothing like Devon.
True.
More true than I realized.
Because Devon had been mine at one point…mine enough to break me.
And Axel?
I was too terrified to give him that kind of power.

A N HOUR LATER , Hufflepuff had everything she needed to travel home, and Axel was waiting for me outside
the airport.
Nerves coiled and twisted in my stomach as I stepped out of the taxi and walked toward him. I still
hadn’t listened to his voicemail from earlier, too busy scrambling to outfit my cat with a proper travel
carrier. I held the empty carrier in one hand, and the tabby tucked into my chest with my other arm. The
taxi driver rolled my luggage toward where I stopped before my Viking.
His shoulders were loose, his eyes bright as they tracked my every step.
“Hello—”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” I cut him off, the words bursting from my mouth in one-part panic, two-parts
apology.
He furrowed his brows, stepping the rest of the distance between us.
“I was...I didn’t…” Good God, I spoke and negotiated for a living. How was I so tongue tangled now?
Because I don’t want to hurt him.
Because somewhere between the red velvet cupcakes on our wedding day and now, I’d grown so close
to him the thought of angering him or hurting him...it twisted me up inside until all I was left with was
doubt.
Axel reached toward Hufflepuff, gently stroking her soft fur. “You went without me,” he said, eyes on
my cat.
“I didn’t want you involved in my mess.”
He nodded, Hufflepuff purring furiously while he pet her.
“I...had to do this on my own,” I said. “I didn’t want to use you and your Viking-like intimidation to get
her back. And honestly, I don’t ever want the good parts of my present to touch the bad parts of my past.”
I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment, trying to catch my breath that had become erratic. “Do you
understand? I truly am sorry for silencing your call—”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, sliding an arm around my waist. “I know how strong you
are. Know you didn’t need me to face down that asshole.”
I sighed, some tight part in my chest uncoiling.
“And the call?” I asked, needing him to address if I’d crossed some relationship line by silencing him.
A soft, easy smile shaped his lips. “I just wanted to know if you wanted something sweet before the
flight. And I have no issues with you not taking a call from me. Not when you were doing something as
important as rescuing this tiny beast.” He pet the tabby in my arms again. “She looks like a Hufflepuff,”
he said. “They’re caring and tenacious, right?”
I jolted a bit, shock no doubt coloring my eyes. “Did you Google it?” I chuckled.
“No,” he said, scoffing slightly as he grabbed my carry-on and herded us toward the airport entrance.
“Then how—”
“I may have started listening to the books during flights. Or away-game bus rides. Or any chance I
get.”
I halted in my tracks, my heart swelling so much my chest ached. I swallowed down the emotion.
“What book are you on?” I asked.
“Four.”
My brows rose. “Better than King?” I teased.
He growled playfully. “Different. Genres,” he said. “I like them both.”
“I can’t believe you’re listening to them,” I said.
“I’m interested in anything you’re interested in, Langley. And since you named your favorite being
something from the book, how could I not listen to them?” He flashed me a look that screamed how
obvious that answer was, but it still shook me to my core.
Dangerous, terrifying, blissful territory. That’s where my heart tread.
Because each day that passed and I was still married to Axel...it was becoming harder and harder to
convince my heart that this relationship had a firm expiration date.
 9
AXEL

L
angley’s cat stared me down as I brushed my teeth. I finished and looked down at the little orange
ball of fluff. “You’ve been fed. You have water. What else could you possibly need?”
The damn thing meowed at me.
“I don’t speak cat,” I said in Swedish. Hufflepuff wound through my legs and started to purr. “Typical
female,” I chuckled and ran my hand down her fur. “Accent gets to them every time. Except your mother,
who seems impervious to my charms.”
She walked out toward the bedroom, then sat by the edge of the bed, her tail flicking back and forth as
she watched me approach.
I climbed into the bed and stretched out as I reached toward the nightstand for the latest Stephen
King novel.
“I swear, days like this,” Langley cursed as she came out of her closet, wearing a short, silk slip. Or
something. Whatever it was, it barely skimmed her ass, and the teal color made her skin look like cream.
The cut did wonders for her curves and instantly had me hard. I was getting used to being constantly in
pain around my wife, but damn if I wasn’t ready for her to give me some kind of sign that she cared about
me.
“What happened now?” I asked, thumbing through the book until I found the bookmark Tage made me
when he was eight. Thank God for lamination or the thing never would have lasted this long. I missed
him. Yeah, texts and calls were fine, and I understood that this was part of the process of growing up, but
I missed my little brother more than anything—or anyone—else I’d left behind.
“Did you know that Silas wants me to head up some kind of charitable foundation for the Reapers?”
she asked, running a brush through her hair.
“You never told me that,” I said, recognizing her state of agitation, and remarking my page.
“I told him there was no chance. I have zero time for that. He needs to hire some sweet little southern
girl who knows her way around southern money and donors because I have my hands full with you guys.”
She pointed her brush at me like I was personally one of the guys making her work overtime. We’d been
home from Seattle for twenty-four hours and I’d barely seen her.
“Hey, I’m a PR dream,” I said, putting my book on the nightstand.
Hufflepuff leaped, landing at my feet and immediately curling up against my knee.
“Don’t let her do that,” Langley chided. “She has her own bed.”
I scratched the tabby behind her ears and was rewarded with a purr. “I try not to piss off the women in
this house. Women anywhere, really.”
She cocked her head to the side and blinked.
“What?”
“How many women have there been?”
Oh shit, so we were doing this. Okay. “In what context?”
Her eyebrows rose.
“Right.” I cleared my throat and sat up fully. “There have been a few, but no one since you showed up
in Sweden.”
“A few,” she said slowly. “Right.” She disappeared into the bathroom, and I heard the faucet running as
she brushed her teeth. “Don’t look at me like that,” I said to my furry, judgmental bed partner.
The faucet stopped, and she reappeared in the doorway shortly after. She did not look like she was
going to let this go. “Any models? You look like the kind of guy who would date models.”
My jaw flexed. “A few.”
“Anyone I know?” She crossed her arms under her breasts.
“You might have run across one or two of them during Lukas’s launch,” I admitted.
“Well, that’s just…” She nodded. “I bet you slept with them,” I swore I heard her mutter under her
breath.
“Langley, get in bed,” I ordered softly as she started to pace at the end of our way-too-spindly bed. This
thing was a disaster waiting to happen.
She pouted, but she slid in next to me. When Hufflepuff didn’t move over, Langley scoffed. “Traitor.”
I laughed and grabbed my wife by her waist, then flipped to my side, tucking her against me as
Hufflepuff jumped to the floor. “Min enda kärlek, no one meant anything in the past. I was busy raising
Tage. They never came to my house, never lasted more than a few months, and never had my last name.”
She sighed. “I don’t know why I asked,” she said softly, trailing her hand over mine.
“Because you have every right to know who I’ve shared my body with,” I told her. “I have nothing to
hide, Langley. I just wasn’t as...discerning as I should have been back then.”
 “You won’t even sleep with your own wife,” she groaned. “I’d say you’ve become more than
discerning.” She turned in my arms so she faced me. “If I didn’t constantly feel how badly you want me,”
she wiggled her hips right over my distended boxer briefs, “I might think you weren’t interested.”
“I’m interested,” I assured her, my eyes losing all trace of amusement. “I want nothing more than to
slide that silk up your body and replace it with my mouth. You have absolutely no clue how crazy you’ve
driven me over the last couple of months.”
Her deep brown eyes searched mine as her hands rested on my bare chest. “Then why?”
I put my hand over her heart. “Because I’m more interested in this than I am what’s under this
confection you call a nightgown.”
She swallowed, her eyes widening slightly. “There’s been no one since Devon.”
“Thank you for telling me,” I answered, tucking a strand of black silk behind her delicate ear.
“There were three before him. My high school boyfriend, a mistake in college, and a guy I dated for
two years before we broke up.” Her forehead crinkled. “He got into Johns Hopkins, and I had a job in
Seattle, so I went there instead.” She forced a closed-lip smile. “I’ve never been the girl to follow the guy.
My mother did that too many times, and it resulted in her never holding down a steady job, which meant
she couldn’t support us. It was awful. And she didn’t care about me. Just them. So she left me. And I
became the girl who chooses herself and loses everything else,” she whispered.
“You’re not going to lose me,” I assured her. “And I’ll never make you choose between my career and
yours. What you do is just as important.”
“You just make a few million more a year than I do.” She grinned.
“Spend whatever you like,” I told her, kissing her forehead. “I have zero use for all of it.”
Her eyes lit up, and I suddenly wondered if she’d hidden a shopping addiction I didn’t know about.
“Actually, I had an idea.”
“Did you?” I asked, trying to ignore the way she shifted against me. I would happily do nothing but
hold my wife in my arms until I died if I thought it might help in my cause of winning her heart. But
holding her this close night after night might also be the death of me.
“I did,” she admitted with an impish smile. “I already talked to Silas about availability dates, and I was
thinking that maybe this summer we’d give the kids at your camp a brand new bag of gear and pay all
their hockey fees for the year.” Her eyes danced as my heart expanded so big in my chest that I thought I
might explode. “Silas agreed to donate the new helmets to your camp kids!”
My brows knit together as I studied Langley. Her eyes were bright with excitement, her cheeks
flushed, and her smile so beautiful that it physically hurt.
“What?” Her smile slipped. “If it’s a bad idea, or too expensive, I can look for sponsors.”
I crushed her lips against mine, kissing her hard and deep. My wife had just made plans with me for
the summer. Four months after our agreed-upon divorce date. She was looking at our future and using
words like we.
She was breathless when she pulled away. “I take it that you think it’s a good idea?”
“I think it’s a great idea if you’re going to come hand them out with me.” My voice dropped, sounding
like it had been dragged over gravel.
“Well, yeah.” She grinned. “I kind of like those kids, and your program is phenomenal, Axel.” Her
fingers started to draw lazy designs on my chest.
I felt my self-control fray to one lonely, thin string.
“You care about the program,” I said slowly.
“Of course I do,” she whispered, and one of her hands stroked across my trimmed beard. “I care about
you.”
I could have sworn I heard an audible pop as that last tether on my control snapped.
My hand tunneled in her hair, and I took her lips in a primal, carnal kiss as I rolled her underneath me.
Her thighs opened, and I settled between them, letting her feel exactly how badly I needed her.
The kiss was hot, wet, and fucking explosive. Langley’s fingernails bit into the back of my neck as her
thighs shifted against my hips, her knees rising on either side of me. My tongue took her mouth over and
over again, plunging deep, then retreating to lure hers to do the same. My girl gave as good as she got,
kissing me with abandon, sucking my tongue into her mouth and groaning when I gave her what she
asked for.
Pure pleasure flooded my system. I was going to come from just kissing her.
She writhed under me when I sucked on the patch of skin where her throat met her collarbone. “Axel,”
she whimpered, but I didn’t stop.
I kissed down to her neckline, then lowered her gown so one perfect breast filled my vision, her nipple
already pebbled as it met the air.
She gasped as I swirled my tongue around the bud, and then her hands moved to my hair when I
alternated flicks of my tongue with deep pulls of my mouth at her breast. My teeth grazed her flesh, and
her moan of appreciation shot straight to my dick.
My beard left her skin rosy as I switched to her other breast and gave it the same treatment. “I’ve
stared at these for months,” I admitted against her flesh. “Every minute I didn’t think you were looking, I
studied your body and planned what I would do to you the minute I got my hands on you.”
“And now?” she whispered, tugging at my hair.
I balanced above her on my elbows, keeping my weight off her as much as I could while I looked into
her eyes, watching for the first sign of reluctance. “Now, I ask you if you still want me.”
Her lips parted, and her pupils flared. “I always want you,” she whispered. “I think about you when I’m
at my desk, or in a meeting.”
“And what do you think?” I asked, pushing my thigh against her center.
She groaned, tipping her head back.
“What do you think about, wife?” I asked, loving that I could call her that while my cock was two layers
of flimsy cloth away from burying itself inside her.
“Your mouth,” she whispered, running a thumb over my lips. “Your very talented tongue.” She gasped
when I licked her thumb. “The way I always feel safe in your arms. Even if you’re turning me into a
puddle of needy mush, I know you’ll put me back together again.”
“You’re sure about that?” I rocked against her, and she rolled her hips, riding my thigh with a sweet
little sound that had my cock ready to punch through my boxer briefs.
She nodded, and her touch on my face turned soft. “I didn’t at first, but now I do. That’s why you made
us wait, isn’t it?”
I brushed my mouth over hers, lightly sucking on her lower lip. “Sex is easy, min enda kärlek.
Chemistry isn’t something you can construct. You have it, or you don’t.” I shifted my thigh, pressing
against her core, and she rolled over it again, looking for the pressure and friction she desperately
needed.
“We have it.” She raised an eyebrow, daring me to say otherwise.
“That’s never been an issue for us. My body reacts the minute you walk into the room or even my
thoughts. The minute I get my hands anywhere near your skin, you’re wet and ready.”
She whimpered as I withdrew my thigh.
“But trust? That’s something you build. I needed you to trust me, and I needed to trust you before
anything like this could happen. I wasn’t willing to trade that trust for an orgasm, and now I think it’s
strong enough that we can have both.” My cock twitched, agreeing with me.
Her eyes widened. “Are you saying…”
I sat back on my heels and gripped the hem of her gown in my hands. “Say yes or no, Langley, because
I’m teetering on the edge, and if it’s a no, then I need to get into the coldest shower imaginable. Right.
Now.”
“It’s a yes!” She sat up and raised her arms.
I had her gown off in less than a second. Then she pushed at my chest, and I let her have her way,
rolling to my back as she came up beside me.
Her thumbs hooked in the black fabric of my boxer briefs and she looked at me like she was ready to
eat me alive. “Say yes or no, Axel, because I want you so badly that I can barely see straight.”
I grinned. “Yes.”
She dragged my boxer briefs down my legs and threw them to the ground, then sat back and looked
me over, her eyes growing darker and her breath coming faster with every second that she appreciated
my body.
“Oh my God,” she muttered before putting her hands on my chest lightly. “Axel, are you even real?”
She traced the lines of my muscles, her fingers dipping into the grooves of my tensed abs.
“It’s just a body, Langley.” I hissed when her fingertips grazed across the head of my cock.
“No, it’s not,” she told me as her hands enclosed around me. It took both of her hands to get around
me, reminding me that I was going to have to go carefully with her. “Physically maybe. You’re so damn
perfect.” Her hands trailed down my cock in a long stroke, and my hips came off the bed.
Fuck, that felt amazing.
“But it’s not just a body with you inside it, Axel.” She released my dick and straddled me, leaning down
for a kiss.
I gave it to her and flipped her to her back. She had no idea how perfect those words were, how
quickly they took me from turned on to fucking desperate for her.
“You can do whatever you want to me later,” I promised.
Our mouths met in another drugging kiss, and I swallowed her moan when my dick stroked against her
underwear. She was already so wet that the fabric was drenched.
Her hips rocked against mine as I kissed her neck, her breasts again, the skin of her stomach and the
softer flesh just above that tiny strip of curls. I locked eyes with her as I gripped the thin strings at either
side of her hips.
She nodded enthusiastically, and I tugged the thong off her delicious body, leaving her as bare as I
was. Miles of toned legs and smooth skin filled my vision, topped with the pink, glistening cleft I
remembered so well.
I slid over her body to kiss her again, but my fingers waited just outside her pussy, petting the damp
folds without pushing between them.
Her breaths came in time with my light strokes, and her hips rose, seeking more. My lips kissed her
fluttering pulse in her neck.
She gripped my face between her hands and looked up at me with wild eyes. “Please.”
Without looking away, I slipped my fingers into her wet center, swirling around her opening and then
dragging them up to her swollen clit.
“You’re so wet for me, aren’t you? I could slide into you right now, and you’d be ready to take me.”
“Yes,” she whispered. Her lower lip trembled, and her breathing stuttered as I rubbed the bud of her
clit in little circles. Her legs tensed as she rocked into my hand, and as she grew tighter, I increased the
pressure until she keened, her hands gripping my biceps as I unraveled her. “Oh, God. Axel.”
I felt her thighs lock around my hand, securing me against her slick flesh. Then I pressed, and she flew
apart, coming with my name on her lips.
“Holy shit, you’re exquisite when you come.” My dick throbbed in time with my heartbeat, and I
stroked her through her orgasm, revving her up for another one and then slipping my hand free before
she got there.
“You have magic fingers.”
I licked those fingers clean, and she writhed, locking her legs around the back of my thighs until the
head of my cock lined up at her entrance.
“Fuck, Langley,” I groaned. My hips slid back and thrust softly, sending my dick through her folds until
the head nudged her clit.
She cried out and rolled her hips again so I was poised at her entrance. “Now, Axel.”
She was right. We were both to the point that nothing but joining our bodies would satisfy us. I pushed
forward gently and hissed at the wet heat that caressed the tip of my cock.
“Condom,” I remembered, but she locked her ankles around me again, keeping me prisoner.
“I’m on the pill,” she promised with her eyes locked on mine.
My eyes flared. I’d never been bare with a woman. Never wanted to risk a pregnancy. Never trusted a
woman to not try and trap me.
Not only did I trust Langley, I didn’t give a fuck if she was lying. The idea of a little girl with her black
hair and my smile or a boy with my fire and her heart only made me want to fuck her faster.
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“Yes, I’ve never been skin-to-skin with any other man,” she told me with a soft smile and quick breaths.
“Please, Axel.”
Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I thrust slowly and immediately groaned. “Himmel.” The word tore
from my throat as I pushed through her tight channel, her muscles gripping me in a velvet fist. I rolled my
hips and moved again, taking her inch by inch, letting her adjust to my size with each movement and
watching her for any sign of pain.
There was only want and desire in her eyes.
My jaw locked against the onslaught of pure pleasure as she finally took all of me. “Langley,” I
groaned.
“What did you say?” she asked, her eyes wide as her pussy rippled around me.
“Langley?” I asked with a pained grin. If I didn’t start moving soon, my body was going to
spontaneously combust.
“No, before,” she asked, swiveling her hips slightly as she stretched around my cock.
“Himmel?”
She nodded, biting her lower lip.
“Heaven,” I translated. “You’re a piece of heaven, min enda kärlek,” I whispered and withdrew almost
to my tip with a roll of my hips.
“And that?” she questioned, her eyes already hazy.
I thrust inside her, taking her to my hilt, and she cried out, forgetting she’d even asked.
“You feel like hot, wet, silk,” I growled against her mouth as I started a slow rhythm that made her
moan every time I took her deep.
“You. Feel. So. Fucking. Good,” she ended on a whimpered moan, and I set about making her feel even
better.
I kept our pace steady, concentrating on her pulse, her gasps, the fluttering of her muscles around me.
Sweat beaded on my skin and hers as the bed started to creak with my thrusts.
“Harder,” she demanded.
I was only too damned happy to oblige.
Putting one hand on the headboard to protect her head, and wrapping my other arm around her
shoulder to keep her in place, I did as she asked and took her harder, pounding into her with measured
thrusts. Her cries filled my ears as nails raked my back. I hoped she dug in deep enough to leave marks—I
was getting that shit tattooed so everyone knew exactly who this body belonged to.
Ecstasy filled every movement, sending that pleasure into a tight coil at the base of my spine. The urge
to come was second only to my need to see her do the same again, to feel her clench around me this time.
“Yes!” she cried, locking her ankles around my waist and taking me deeper, rocking back against me.
I knew she’d never be a passive bed partner, but she met me stroke for stroke, proving to be more than
just my equal.
I growled as I felt her tense beneath me, thrusting harder and faster, feeling the world rock with us as
we made love with an intensity I’d never experienced in my life but was already addicted to.
Her muscles started to lock, and her breaths came faster, her keening cries higher, and I let go of her
shoulder to reach between us.
One stroke of her clit and she came, arching wildly beneath me, screaming my name as her pussy
clamped down so hard around my cock that I saw stars. I stroked her through her orgasm, and
immediately put my arm around her shoulder again to keep her from sliding up the bed.
She softened beneath me and looked up at me with eyes full of such wonder that I fucking lost it. My
hips pistoned into hers, and I lost all sense of rhythm and timing, taking her as my body demanded,
thrusting over and over into her heat.
The very earth moved beneath us in time with my thrusts and my vision blurred as my orgasm ripped
through me, emptying into her as I pushed against her womb. I growled her name as I lost myself over
and over in her until I was completely—
 I heard the crack and instinctively pulled Langley under my body, sheltering her with my frame as
wood came crashing down.
The canopy smacked into my back as the last of my orgasm took me.
I dropped to my elbows, her face tucked against my throat as one of the posts bounced off the bed
where her head had been only seconds ago.
Then the world stilled—the only sound our harsh breaths.
Until the frame went from under us.
Langley shrieked as the mattress and boxspring slammed into the floor, and I tensed, making sure she
didn’t feel a pound of my weight as we landed.
After a few moments of silence, I looked up to see another portion of the frame ready to give way. I
rolled, scooping Langley into my arms as the final piece clattered against the rail on my side of the bed,
falling to the ground.
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered, holding my wife in my lap.
She shook, and I immediately brushed her hair from her face.
“Baby, you’re safe,” I promised, only to see that her shoulders heaved with laughter. “I guess this
means you’re okay?” I asked.
She bit her lip and nodded as she looked up at me. Then her expression turned serious as she cupped
my face in her hands. “I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what you said about our bed being a little
flimsy, and I think that if you really want to buy a new bed, I could support that decision.” She nodded.
We both burst into laughter that didn’t stop as I picked her up and carried her down the hall to one of
the furnished guest rooms.
It dawned on me as I slid inside her again—the reason I wanted her heart so badly.
She already had mine.
I’d fallen in love with my wife.
 10
LANGLEY

“Y
ou have flour on your shoulder,” I said, biting back my smile as I leaned against our kitchen
island.
Axel didn’t stop his mixing on the other side of the island. In only a pair of boxer briefs,
nearly every glorious inch of him was on display as he worked the batter in the silver bowl into
a smooth consistency.
He scanned me from head to toe, his eyes hungry as he lingered on my bare legs. I’d only slipped on
one of his baby-blue button-downs after we’d completed our latest marathon session, professing I was
now properly famished and was going to make a sandwich.
He’d stopped me, saying sandwiches were not an after-sex meal.
The sex had been phenomenal, as had every single time we’d come together these past couple months.
My back to his chest as I rode him in the den.
His hands on my hips as he took me from behind in one of the guestrooms.
Our bodies slick with water as he fucked me against the shower wall.
The pulsing, agonizing need to be connected with the man on every conceivable level.
A never ending craving. A never ending anticipation.
And tonight, I’d worshiped the spectacular male before me. I used every inch of my body, my mouth,
my tongue, to soothe the wounds that naturally came from the Reapers’ first real loss.
It had stung, and Axel had been in knots when he came home. He could barely speak in full sentences
he was so growly. And I’d made sure to give him what he wanted, and allowed him to take what he
needed, to help dull that edge from the loss.
A warm shiver sparked my insides with just the memory of it. The exquisite, lingering pleasure from
being completely bare and intimate with someone I trusted so damn much. It was world shattering.
“How many girls have you made midnight pancakes for?” I asked, still trying not to grin at him like a
lust-starved girl.
We’d had the numbers discussion months ago before I’d finally dropped all my walls and let him in—
not just into my pants, but into my heart. I couldn’t deny it. I cared about him. More than I likely should,
especially when I continued to drop hints and plans for adventures long past the divorce due date, and he
never did.
I shoved those worries down, focusing on teasing my husband about his sex appeal. “Do models even
eat pancakes?” I joked, knowing he’d dated his fair share of Swedish beauties in his past.
It didn’t matter who he’d been with before, not really. Not when I couldn’t stop the glow I felt radiating
over every inch of my skin. Two months of nothing but open communication, honest understanding,
support, and the best—no, literally the best sex I’d ever had—had practically turned me into a pixie
sprinkling my happy dust all over Reaper Village.
Axel cocked an eyebrow at me, scooping a ladle full of batter and pouring it onto a skillet sizzling with
melted butter. Setting the bowl down, he grabbed the spatula on the other side of the stove, then turned
to me.
“One girl,” he said. “One boy,” he finally answered my teasing question.
My eyebrows rose at that. “I never would have pegged you for experimenting with your sexuality,” I
said, but could see where Axel was like this mythical sexual being—who wouldn’t want to explore with
him? “But I totally understand. I regret not being more open in college. More of any sexual exploration,
really. I worked too hard, even back then, but it got me to where I am today twice as fast.”
Axel laughed and flipped the pancake.
“I think I would have paired well with a girl like Echo,” I said, rambling now as I patiently waited.
He whirled at that, his eyes sparking with a new wave of lust I was certain we’d fucked out of each
other earlier. Nope, that was heat pooling between my thighs. Damn, I was instantly ready for him, and it
hadn’t even been twenty minutes since he was last inside me.
“Echo is your type?” He mused, sliding the pancake on a plate and starting another.
“Well, I sort of realized recently that I’m incredibly turned on by strong, capable people who are one-
hundred-percent themselves. A few tats don’t hurt.” I crossed the distance between us, trailing my fingers
over the ink that decorated his left arm. The muscle was taught underneath his smooth skin and touching
him like this, openly and free and whenever we wanted, was a new kind of bliss I hadn’t realized I
needed.
He slid the second pancake onto the plate, but instead of starting on another one he set the spatula
down, and snaked his arms around my hips, hefting me up and up until we were eye to eye. A thrill raced
through my core, my heart rate kicking up as we were close enough to share breath, but he made no
move to kiss me.
“So, what you’re saying is Echo is the female version of me.” A satisfied smirk shaped his lips.
“Maybe,” I crooned, wiggling against him.
“Too bad for Echo I don’t share.” The primal tenor in his voice made my toes curl.
“Same,” I said with equal demand.
Axel trailed the tip of his nose over mine, along my jaw, and over the seam of my neck, inhaling like he
could smell his own scent on me. I’m sure, after the last two months, our scents were now permanently
merged—I certainly smelled him on my skin even after a long shower.
I wet my lips, the anticipation for his kiss threatening to break me—but I didn’t move. Part of the game
was the waiting, and oh, how sweet the reward was.
Axel slowly, deliberately slid me down his body before setting me back on my feet. He set the plate of
pancakes on the island next to where the syrup sat and nodded toward it.
“Eat,” he commanded.
And damn me if I didn’t park my butt on a barstool and dig in.
“These are amazing,” I moaned around my fork.
Axel chuckled as he cooked the rest of the batter. “My mormor’s favorite.”
“Mormor?”
He smiled, his eyes softening. “Grandmother,” he said before pointing at the pancake cooking in the
skillet. “I would make them for her...before she passed. And my brother used to make me put chocolate
shavings in the batter. Dark, not milk.” A whimsical look flashed in his eyes. “But Tage stopped asking for
sweets when he was thirteen.” He shrugged.
Mormor and his brother.
The one girl and one boy he made midnight pancakes for.
I swore my heart expanded so much my throat tightened.
“You miss him.” It wasn’t a question. How could he not? He’d raised his baby brother after both his
parents and his grandmother passed. He’d had real family ties in Sweden between his brother and Lukas’
family which laid claim to Axel and Tage as much as Lukas. I had nothing so strong here or even back in
Seattle. Hell, I loved my cat and my hockey family more than my biological family. I hadn’t spoken to any
of them in years, and I didn’t plan to. They had a lifestyle I worked my ass off in school to stay away from,
and I had no intention of ever going back.
But Axel? He had a good life in Sweden. A phenomenal little brother, and a second family in Lukas’.
Guilt ate at my insides, making the pancakes settle a little heavy.
Had I forced his hand by calling his bluff on marriage? Had I forced him to leave Sweden for the
Reapers?
Axel put the empty bowl in the sink, contemplative as he slid the platter of pancakes to the island,
urging me to grab more.
I couldn’t though. Not with my chest aching with the realization that I may be the one thing that stole
him from his family.
He cocked a brow at me, those damn eyes searing right down to my soul. “I do miss them,” he said,
walking around the island until he sat next to me, our knees brushing. “It will be good to see him at
Christmas, that’s true.” He took my chin in his fingers, gentle but not letting me look away. “But I am
happy here.”
I swallowed against the tightness in my throat.
But for how long?
I couldn’t form words around the question blaring in my head. We’d signed a marriage contract for six
months. And when they were up? We’d be divorced and the season would be more than half over. He’d
continue to be a Reaper, and I’d continue to be the Reapers’ PR rep. I’d have to see him almost every
single day and not claim him as mine.
And I’d known that going into this deal…but after the last two months? I felt the loss in my heart, and
it scared the hell out of me.
“Are you happy, Langley?” he asked, his voice low, gravely.
I parted my lips, wanting to do nothing but scream out yes. I’d never been happier.
Which meant I’d never had more to lose.
Axel jolted in his seat, and I breathed out a sigh of relief.
Saved by the cat.
Hufflepuff had leaped onto the island, her silent approach startling the Viking.
I barely held back my laugh as she carefully, gracefully climbed onto his shoulder and perched there
like some tabby-colored parrot. She started pawing at his hair, all gathered at the nape of his neck with a
tie. He glowered at her, then me, as she batted the ends back and forth.
“She never leaves me alone,” he said, but there was no annoyance in his voice. “Why can’t we have a
dog? A dog would never use my hair as a toy.”
I laughed, gently tugging Hufflepuff off his shoulder and placed her onto my lap. She mewed in protest
until I scratched her left ear, the one and only spot I was allowed to scratch. “She loves you,” I said,
shrugging. “And maybe she needs a friend.”
“More cats?”
“One more. Don’t you think? It might help take the edge off the obsession she has with you.” I scanned
his half-naked body. “Can’t really blame her though.”
That mischievous smirk returned. “You have enough pancakes?”
 I nodded, my breath ratcheting in my lungs.
“Good,” he said, nodding as he took Hufflepuff with surprising tenderness and gently deposited her on
the floor.
A blink and my ass was on the kitchen island, the Viking parting my legs to step between them. He
leaned in, slowly, his lips brushing across mine as his hands traveled up my thighs—
“No!” I said, squealing a bit.
Axel growled.
“You know the rules, Axel!” I gaped at him, looking from his eyes to my empty pancake plate and back
again. “Pancakes were a ploy! You devious Viking!” I clucked my tongue at him. “We cook in this room.
We eat in this room. We do not fuck in this room.”
Another growl, but flames flickered in his eyes at my use of the word fuck.
He shook his head, his hand cupping my cheek. “We can fuck anywhere. All you have to do is let go.”
Tempting. So damn tempting.
If anyone could get me to let go of my insanely over-controlling control it was Axel, but…
“We. Eat. Here.”
Axel smiled. “One day,” he said, scooping me off the counter and tossing me over his shoulder like I
weighed no more than the sack of flour he’d used to whip up my midnight snack.
I giggled as he lightly smacked my ass.
“One day,” he said again, walking us through the house until we reached our bedroom.
Some tight part of me uncoiled as he laid me on the bed—this one made of solid, hand-carved oak. Two
months and we hadn’t managed to break it, so I believed it would hold out for the rest of our marriage.
“One day, what?” I challenged, scooting all the way back on the bed, slipping the button-down off as I
went, leaving myself bare to him.
His eyes raked over my exposed flesh like he had all the time in the world to study my body, master it,
until all he had to do was touch the right spot and I’d combust for him.
Axel slid off his boxer-briefs, kicking them next to the shirt I’d tossed on the floor. Knees on the bed, he
parted my thighs and lowered his mouth until I could feel his warm breath on my bare skin.
I was instantly liquid.
“One day,” he whispered, brushing my center with a feather-light kiss. “You will let me feast on you in
the kitchen.” His eyes met mine through my parted legs, and I whimpered a bit at the sight of him there.
“One day,” he said, dragging his tongue through my slit. “You will let me take you to new places.”
I gasped as he unleashed himself on me with lips and tongue and the lightest graze of teeth until I was
a writhing, wild thing beneath him. As if he could convince me to relinquish all control with only the
power of his mouth on my body. And as I shattered beneath him, pieces of my soul breaking and bending
and glowing just for him, I was dangerously close to relinquishing everything to him.
 11
AXEL

“T
ake it back,” I ordered as I held Tage in a headlock.
“What?” He forced out with a grin. “That you’re getting fat?”
“I can still kick your ass.” I rubbed my knuckles against his hair, which was the same dirty
blond shade as mine.
“Maybe here,” he scoffed, but still couldn’t break free. “But not on the ice. Hate to say it big brother,
but this American luxury is making you soft.”
“Hey, hey!” Langley called out as she walked into the living room, dodging piles of opened Christmas
presents and wrapping paper. “Don’t kill your brother, Axel. I can’t spin the PR on that.”
“You’re lucky she likes you,” I growled playfully, but let my brother go.
“English, please. It’s not nice to leave me out of the conversation,” Langley said with a grin as she
folded herself onto the couch next to me.
Tage rolled to the ground, then scurried to the heavy armchair he’d claimed as his own when he got
here a week ago. “See? A few months ago you would have caught me. Marriage is making you soft, too.”
Two dimples popped in his cheeks, and I shook my head. “And by soft,” he gestured to his belly, “I mean
around the middle.”
He was met with a pillow in the face, courtesy of my wife.
“Lay off, Tage.” She picked up the hem of my shirt, examining my abs. “Yum, just as perfect as ever.”
“You two are sickening,” he rolled his eyes but smiled.
“Be quiet and open your last present.” I leaned back against the couch and draped my arm over
Langley, tucking her into my side. It was hard to believe the perfection of these last couple of months. She
hadn’t once mentioned the divorce, or even that we were on a timeline.
Maybe she was starting to come around to my way of thinking: who needed a divorce when we were
this happy? Fuck the contract. This could be our forever.
“There’s another present?” Tage’s blue eyes popped wide, and he looked so much like our mother in
that moment that my breath failed.
“Check behind your seat,” Langley suggested, snuggling into my chest.
She had one more present, too, but it would have to wait until after I took Tage to the airport in a few
hours.
My heart sank. A few short hours were all I had left with him.
He scrambled over the top of the chair, leaning over so far I was sure I’d be making my excuses to his
coach when I returned him broken. He was only eleven years younger than me, but I suddenly felt every
single one of those years.
“You know I only brought you the one present,” Tage said over the medium-sized box in his lap.
“Having yet another jersey with Nyström on it was a special treat.” I layered the sarcasm thick.
“Hey, not one with my number from my team!”
“So easy to rile,” I teased. “In all seriousness, it’s my favorite present. I couldn’t be prouder of you,
Tage.”
His mouth pressed into a thin line, and red crept up his neck, but he nodded. “So, what is it?” he asked
after clearing his throat.
“Open it and find out,” Langley urged, her gaze curious as she looked up at me. “What did you get
him?” she whispered.
“You have to wait too.” I kissed her forehead and looked back to my brother as he ripped through the
paper. The packaging was discreet but a moment later, he had the flaps to the box open, and his mouth
dropped.
“Is this what I think it is?” He lifted the helmet and took it in with wide eyes, rotating it so he could
examine it from every angle.
“It is,” I assured him. “Silas swore me to secrecy,” I told my wife with another forehead kiss.
She arched an eyebrow.
“How the hell did you get one?” His eyes flew to mine, wide with shock.
“I happen to know the designer and the owner of the Reapers,” I teased. “It’s in your team colors, and
you have it before anyone on the market. Except the Reapers, of course.” We’d been wearing the new
helmets all season long. “They’re incredible when it comes to concussion protection, and Harper said
she’d answer any questions you have.”
Tage put the helmet in the box and stumbled to his feet. He was tall and lean, cut with muscle, but still
a skinny kid in my eyes.
I stood and barely caught him as he lunged for me, clasping me in a hug. If I’d done one thing right in
raising him, it had been this. He might be a surly, opinionated teenager, but he never shied away from
affection.
“Thank you.” He switched to Swedish, and I knew it wasn’t to leave Langley out, but simple habit and
emotion.
“You’re welcome.” I squeezed him tight, emotion clogging my throat. Leaving Sweden had been easy,
considering I had Langley at my side. Leaving my brother? That had been the hardest thing I’d ever done.
“Now wear it. Protect that tiny brain of yours.”
He laughed and held me for another second before letting go. “I guess I’d better get everything packed
up, huh?”
I nodded. “We have to leave in a couple of hours.”
He sighed, glancing at the tree we’d all decorated together the first day he’d flown in, when jet lag had
him bleary-eyed. “Thank you,” he said to Langley.
She stood, pulling her oversized Reapers sweatshirt down as she came to my side. “You don’t have to
thank me again. I’m just glad you like the tickets.” She’d bought him a set of plane tickets for mid-May,
when his season would be over, and we’d be—crossing our fingers—still in the playoffs.
His eyebrows rose. “Right, those are great, and I can’t wait to see Axel on that ice, but that wasn’t
what I meant.” He shook his head, and at her furrowed brows, he smiled and continued. “Thank you for
making him so happy.” He nodded at me. “I can’t ever remember seeing him smile as much as I have the
last week.”
“Oh,” she said quietly. “Well, you’re welcome, but it’s really my pleasure.”
His eyes darted between us, and he grinned with straight white teeth. “Mom and Dad would be happy
for you,” he said in Swedish. Then he took an armful of presents up to the guest room to pack them in his
suitcase.
“What did he say?” Langley asked, looking strangely pale as she looked up at me.
I cupped her cheeks in my hands and bent to brush a kiss across her lips. “He told me our parents
would be happy. He was only five when we lost them, so I’m not sure how much he remembers about
them, but I’d like to think he’s right.”
She swallowed, a shadow passing through her eyes that had me pulling her in tighter against my
frame.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She smiled, and the light caught the new diamond earrings I’d given her this morning. “I
just like seeing you happy.”
“Thank you for letting him stay with us.” I fell back into the couch, taking her with me and lifting her
in my arms so she landed on my lap.
Her fingers ran along my face. “Of course. He’s your brother, and I know how badly you’ve missed him.
It was nice to get to spend this time with him.”
“He’s pretty incredible. So much...lighter than I was at his age. Happier.” He was quicker to smile and
laugh, and when he did, those emotions ran true. He never faked it, never forced a grin.
“He also isn’t responsible for raising his little brother right now,” Langley said softly. “At his age, you
had an SHL contract and a seven-year-old brother at home to take care of.”
“I never regretted it,” I said quietly, making sure Tage couldn’t hear. “Never saw him as a burden.
Sure, I had to grow up fast and take on a lot of responsibility, especially when Mormor passed away right
after I graduated, but Tage is…” I shook my head, unable to find the words.
“I know.” She sat up in my lap and rested her forehead against mine. “Tage is incredible. He is kind
and funny, and so very smart. That’s all because of you.”
“He’s also a moody asshole.”
She laughed, and just like that, some of my sorrow lifted. “That’s also because of you.”
I almost fired back, but then finally nodded. “That may be true. But thank you for making this a home
for him. It meant more than I can explain to have him with us for Christmas.”
“Anytime,” she whispered and kissed me softly. “Why don’t you two grab some brother time on the way
to the airport? I have a ton of things I can get caught up on around here.”
“By caught up on, you mean…” I quirked a brow.
“Hallmark movie marathon.” She grinned as I groaned.
“Because you lack small-town romance?” I asked, flipping us so she was beneath me.
She gasped at the quick change of position and then gripped my shirt to pull me in for a kiss. It was
slow and long, and thorough. “I have all the small-town romance I could need right here.”

I T WAS dark when I pulled into our driveway hours later. Letting Tage go had been a special kind of
torture, but I knew he was happy and thriving where he was, which was everything I could have wanted
for him.
But knowing that wouldn’t make me miss him any less.
I took the cardboard box from the passenger seat and then quietly adjusted the loose lid with a red
bow on the top before heading into the house.
Langley was crying on the couch.
“Min enda kärlek?” I deposited the box carefully at the foot of the couch and then gathered my sobbing
wife into my arms. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
She gulped in a heaving breath as she rested on my chest. “She was so stubborn, and then they fought,
but he came back, and it was so beautiful!”
I blinked and followed her gaze...to the television. Understanding dawned on me, and I struggled not
to laugh. “Did a small-town romance teach her the meaning of Christmas?”
She sniffled. “Maybe.”
God, I loved her. My tough-as-nails woman who could handle a scandal without breaking a sweat was
as tender as could be once you got past her gauntlet of defenses.
“I brought you your big present,” I whispered and her eyes flew to mine.
“These aren’t big enough?” She fingered the diamonds in her ears. “Or the spa day? Or—”
I kissed her before she ran down the list of absurd things I’d given her for Christmas. If I’d thought
there was even a chance of something making Langley happy, I’d bought it.
In return, she’d stocked the bookshelves in the library with signed copies of my favorites and flown
over some of my favorite Swedish foods from my favorite bakeries.
I sat us both up and then handed her the box. “Be careful,” I warned. “Don’t shake it or anything.”
Her brow puckered, but she flipped the lid off the box and gasped. “Oh. My. God.”
“Is that a good—”
She looked up at me with the brightest smile I’d ever seen. “Really?”
The corners of my lips lifted, but I didn’t say anything as she reached into the box and pulled out a tiny
ball of black fluff with startling green eyes. “She’s beautiful! Wait, she’s a she, right? Because she looks
like a she.”
“She’s a she,” I answered. “Faith kept an eye on her after I picked her up yesterday.”
“But you hate cats!” Langley held the kitten up to her face.
“You said Hufflepuff needed a friend.” I shrugged. Almost on cue, the tabby waltzed into the room,
then sat on her haunches as Langley cuddled her new roommate.
“What’s this?” She fingered the small, jeweled collar I’d had made to match the one I’d given
Hufflepuff for Christmas, but instead of yellow and black, this one was black and green. “Her name is
Slytherin?” Her eyes shot to mine, and I would have bought her a dozen kittens to get her to look at me
that way again.
“Seemed fitting.”
Hufflepuff crept closer, until she sat directly beneath Langley and Slytherin, twitching her tail.
“Hufflepuff, meet your new sister,” Langley said in that high, soft way she used when speaking to the
cat. Then she lowered Slytherin, keeping her hands on the kitten as the two faced off.
Hufflepuff looked away, clearly unimpressed by her new friend.
“Don’t be like that,” Langley chided. “See, isn’t she so cute?”
Slytherin batted at Hufflepuff. It did not go well.
Hufflepuff hissed at her new sister, then leaped onto the couch, curling against my side. I stroked
down her soft, orange fur and tried to keep my chuckle contained.
“Oh, come on,” Langley groaned.
“Guess she’s not a cat person, either.” I shrugged. “She’s chosen a side, and guess what? It’s not
yours.” I grinned as my wife rolled her eyes.
“She’s perfect, and I love her, Axel. Thank you.” Langley leaned over and kissed me gently. “I can’t
wrap my head around this. I know you don’t like cats, and yet you brought another one home?”
I rubbed Slytherin’s head before taking Langley’s cheek in my hand. “Marriage is about putting your
effort into making your partner happy, Langley. My father told me once that if you both take genuine
pleasure in making the other happy, then you’re always happy. You love cats. I love you. Therefore, we
now have Slytherin. Besides, Hufflepuff is growing on me.”
Hufflepuff raised her lip at her sister.
“Just don’t expect Slytherin to grow on her for a while.”
I was still smiling when Langley pounced on me, capturing my mouth for a kiss. I sank into her kiss the
way I always did—with my whole heart.
 12
LANGLEY

“I
love you.”
Those three words echoed in the depths of my soul, over and over again, as I continued to
kiss and explore his beautiful mouth.
Axel.
My friend.
My husband.
My heart swelled and raced, and my throat tightened around the words I knew I should say back.
But I couldn’t…couldn’t say them.
So, I did the only thing I could think of.
I listened to my heart, and to my body.
I carefully took Hufflepuff from his arms, deposited her onto the floor, and tugged on Axel until he was
standing.
Then I leaped for him.
He caught me so damn easily, and I locked my ankles around his hips, crushing my lips on his. I parted
his lips with my tongue, and he opened for me, sighing against my mouth as I claimed him with mine. I
rolled my hips, a silent motion for him to take us to our bedroom. He listened, having learned the
language of my body months ago.
“Guessing this means you like your present,” he teased as he walked us into our bedroom.
We crashed onto the bed in a tangle of tongues and teeth, shedding clothes along the way until there
was nothing but me and him and the words he’d said between us.
Axel moved to slide between my thighs, but I gripped his long hair and tore my mouth from his,
needing to look at him. Those eyes—those damn eyes that could read me better than anyone. Could he
see the terror coursing through my veins? Could he see the old hollowness pulsing in my chest,
threatening to take everything I wanted away?
I held his gaze and wiggled out from underneath him. He let me roll him onto his back, patient as I
took the reins. As I took the control I desperately needed. If I couldn’t make words work, I’d show him
how much he meant to me.
“Axel,” I sighed his name, drinking in the brutal beauty of this man. The ink that swirled over his skin,
stretched tight over eons of corded muscle. The complexity of his eyes—both primal and gentle, loving
and claiming. “Axel,” I said again because it was the only word I was capable of saying as I raked my nails
lightly over his hard abdomen.
I replaced my nails with my lips, kissing my way across his broad chest and lower, over the ripples of
muscle and downward until I reached his gloriously hard cock. I stroked the silken skin, marveling at the
feel of him in my hands. I held his gaze as I lowered my head and wrapped my lips around the swollen
head, swirling my tongue around the tip.
A low growl rumbled from his chest, the sound shooting sparks across my skin. His fingers wound in
my hair as I bobbed up and down, sucking and licking, the taste of him feeding the flames that licked
every inch of my body. I moaned with him in my mouth, consumed by the enormous man beneath me. In
my hands, between my lips, this giant, powerful man was mine. It didn’t matter how many times we’d
been together like this, it always felt like the first time—exhilarating, electric, consuming. And even if I
couldn’t find the courage to say the words, I had enough courage to claim him.
So I did.
I sucked and bobbed and worshiped him until his hard length sprang free of my mouth with a little
pop. He wasn’t finished growling before I straddled him, positioning him—slick with me—right at my
center, and slowly, agonizingly sank on top of him.
He arched his head back as I settled myself until he was seated to the hilt. I had to give myself a few
breaths to adjust to the sheer size of him. This position made the angle so much deeper, as if Axel could
fill every inch of me—body, heart, mind, and soul.
“Look at you,” he said, his voice low, primal. “Fucking beautiful. Perfect.”
“You are,” I said, grateful for at least some truth, some words returning to me. “You are, Axel.”
After a few shuddered breaths, I moved on him, slow and steady, long and hard. Rolling and rocking,
him meeting me with thrusts of his own until I hung on the edge of the deepest torture and sweetest
release.
But not yet.
I reached down, slid my fingers behind his neck, and tugged, beckoning him even as my body trembled
around him. As my breaths came quick and short. As I ached and pulsed from the feel of him inside me.
 Axel followed, rising up and up until we were chest to chest, nose to nose, eye to eye.
Until there was nothing between us but the breath we shared and the gaze I never wanted to break.
I gently tangled my fingers in his hair and moved again, slower this time. Squeezing out every ounce of
pleasure I could, soaking in his scent, his touch, his taste as I flicked my tongue over his lips.
He kissed me then, not a claiming of my body but one of my soul, and I cried out as he met me with a
thrust of his own.
Again and again, I cried out, completely shattered by this man as he pushed me over that sweet, sweet
edge until my body clenched and tingled and sparked for him. Until I was nothing but his and he was
nothing but mine. Until I couldn’t breathe from the pulsing tremors rocking both our bodies as we flew
over that edge together.
I leaned my forehead against his as we came down from the ultimate high. And as I breathed him in, I
hoped he understood how much he meant to me. Hoped he could feel that connection between our souls,
that blazing hot current sizzling between us. Not simply body to body, but heart to heart.
I hoped he understood.
Even if I couldn’t say the words.

An hour later, I texted Faith while Axel was in the shower.

Gathered in my soft cotton robe, I met her at the fence that separated our two houses.
“Are you okay?” Faith asked, her red curls mussed from sleep or sex, I wasn’t sure.
“I’m freaking out,” I admitted, my hands clenched in my robe pockets.
“I assumed that,” she said, smiling softly. “Seeing as it’s two a.m. and we’re standing in our
backyards.”
“Axel told me he loved me,” I said, keeping my voice low in case the Viking decided to end his shower
early and look for me.
“It’s about time,” Faith said, a lack of any surprise on her face.
“Wait, you knew?”
Faith rolled her eyes. “Langley, come on.”
“What?” I shook my head. “I didn’t see it coming! We agreed to a six-month marriage. And even if I’ve
been dropping hints about plans after the divorce date, he hasn’t. I didn’t…I didn’t expect…” I pinched
the bridge of my nose.
“Langley,” Faith said. “This was never just a six-month deal for Axel. What do you think min enda
kärlek means?”
I opened my mouth, then shut it. I’d never asked her to clarify the definition. I’d been so wrapped up in
Axel, in the connection that sizzled between us, the way he’d slipped past my barriers and into my heart...
“My only love,” she clarified. “But the love part, it’s stronger than that. Deeper. The language…it’s
beyond an endearment. It means more.”
I swallowed hard, my hand going to my chest as if I could protect the heart beneath.
“He called me that last year in Sweden, before you and Lukas were even official.”
Faith nodded, an almost pitying look in her eyes. “You didn’t say it back.”
It wasn’t a question. She knew me too well.
“I couldn’t. So instead we—”
“It’s two a.m., Langley!” Lukas called from their back porch. Dressed in nothing but a towel, water
droplets clinging to his hair which shimmered in the moonlight, he looked like a damn vampire ready to
take his claimed one back to his lair. He and Axel were truly best friends—they even showered at the
same damn time.
“No one invited you, Lukas!” I quipped back.
Faith laughed, sparing her husband a glance over her shoulder. “I’ll be in in a minute.”
Lukas flashed her a look that made me blush before he returned focus to me. “I figured Axel could
keep you busy throughout the night. At least busy enough where you wouldn’t be infringing on my second
dessert.”
Faith bit back her smile.
I arched a brow at Lukas. “I’ll have you know this is just an intermission for us, thank you very much!”
I laughed at the satisfied smirk on Lukas’ face. “I just needed to talk to your wife about something.”
He shifted so his hands rested on his hips, no doubt to show off his impeccable body—if you liked lithe
and sculpted. I much more preferred tall with a bulk of muscle and long hair and—
Axel.
I preferred Axel.
In every single way.
“You better not be inviting her to join you,” Lukas teased.
“I might have to,” I said. “Seeing as if you keep me from my girl time, I could make you disappear.”
Faith laughed and blew Lukas a kiss. “You’re the only one for me,” she said. “I’ll be right in.”
Lukas flashed me a wink, gave Faith an even more intimate, lingering gaze, and then disappeared
inside the house.
Faith sighed, turning back to me.
“Do you ever regret it?” I asked, my eyes still on the closed door where Lukas disappeared.
Faith tilted her head.
“Moving here. Giving up your dream of owning a concierge PR firm.” I’d been the one to help her
solidify that dream back in Seattle. I’d also been the one to suggest she be Lukas’ personal assistant in
order to prepare for that dream, and then they’d fallen in love and she’d given up everything.
“Never,” she said. “I don’t feel like I’ve given up anything, Langley. Working for you is amazing, and
being with Lukas? That wasn’t a choice. Home is where he is. My dreams are where he is.”
I swallowed hard.
“And he’d tell you the same thing,” she continued. “If I would’ve asked? Lukas would’ve played out his
draft expansion contract and then given up the NHL. He would’ve stayed in Seattle, continued to produce
his clothing line, and simply have been with me. But I didn’t want that for him. Not when together we
could both have everything we ever wanted.”
I nodded, something settling in my twisting stomach.
The feeling...that certainty swirled and begged to be acknowledged, but I couldn’t...not when nothing
was certain when it came to Axel and myself.
“Did you want to say it back?” Faith asked.
I chewed on my lip for a second.
“I don’t know,” I finally admitted. “I knew I should—”
“Should,” Faith cut me off. “Isn’t fair to either of you. You only say it if you mean it. And if you’re not
ready, you’re not ready. There is no rule saying you have to say it back.”
I nodded. “But the last thing I want to do is hurt him. I’m just…”
“Terrified,” Faith finished for me.
“Yes.”
Faith reached across the fence separating us and squeezed my hand. “You got hurt. Bad. I know. It was
awful. But you shouldn’t let that stop you from experiencing something amazing. Maybe, if you can allow
yourself the freedom to let go, maybe you’ll figure out exactly what, or who, you want.”
I pressed my lips together, nodding again.
“I love you, Faith,” I said, needing her to know how much her friendship meant to me. How I hadn’t
realized I’d needed it so badly until she’d come into my life.
She grinned. “Love you, too. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Not with you,” I said, sucking in a deep breath.
“Because you know without a doubt I don’t have the power to hurt you. Not like—”
“We having a backyard bash?” Axel’s voice sounded from behind me as he made his way across the
yard.
“I…um…” I fumbled miserably for an excuse.
“Sorry to steal your wife,” Faith teased. “I texted her. Needed to ask her about a publicist, business
thing.”
“You never stop working either, do you?” Axel asked, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
“How can I?” Faith asked, pointing at me. “Being her apprentice is a full-time job.”
I laughed. “Am I such a bad mentor?”
“The best,” Faith said. “See you in the morning. Thanks for the help.”
I mouthed the words thank you as she backed away and disappeared into her house.
I gripped Axel’s muscled forearms as he tucked his chin over my shoulder. “So,” he said, planting
kisses along my neck. “What is your rule about sex under the moonlight?”
I laughed, the tension in my chest easing after the conversation with Faith, and the way he was acting
completely normal now. Maybe not saying the words hadn’t hurt him. Maybe everything would be okay.
Maybe I had time.
“Already?” I spun in his embrace, hooking my arms behind his neck as he hefted me to his level.
“Always.”
I sighed, pressing my forehead to his. I’d opened bit by bit, to exploring other rooms of the house, but
never the kitchen. And I wasn’t ready to have him take me outside, where our best friends next door, or
hell, any Reaper in this Village, could walk by and see us. “Bedroom,” I said. “But we can open the blinds
to let the moon in.”
There.
That was something.
I couldn’t help that I liked to compartmentalize my life—work had its place, sex had its place, but love?
I didn’t know where to put that anymore. Not after my ex. Not after he’d carved it out of me and left me
hollow for far too long. Not after he’d put conditions on his love for me—my career or him. Myself or him.
Never both.
And even if I knew Axel wasn’t that kind of man...all of my experiences with love revolved around self-
sacrifices that ended up doing more harm than good. My mother, chasing too many men to count, had
given up her daughter in an attempt to hold on to that love. She’d lost herself to it. I couldn’t do that, but
with Axel...it didn’t feel like losing.
Axel grinned down at me, hauling me toward the house.
“One day, min enda kärlek,” he said, and the words—their true meaning—clanged through me, igniting
each dark doubt in my soul and burning it to ash.
“One day,” I agreed and hoped like hell it would be soon.
 13
AXEL

I
grabbed my carry-on from the back of the Rover and headed into the house. We’d won again last
night, this time against the Lightning, and the talk was turning from a hopeful murmur to a loud
roar.
We were ranked first in our division, second in conference, and third nationally. The team that looked
on the verge of imploding during the preseason was now the team to beat. The pressure was up, the press
was watching, and I spent every practice and game trying to keep the guys working together.
Langley spent every moment—including this one—making sure the team took advantage of the
heightened press and navigating the mini-minefields twenty-three testosterone-driven men tend to catch
themselves in. Right now she was handling a prank Connell had pulled on TSA in Tampa Bay, meaning
she’d stayed behind with a very cocky Scotsman to catch the next flight.
I opened the door, hung up my keys, and set the suitcase by the front stairs.
I was greeted with an exuberant Slytherin and a tolerant Hufflepuff. “Good evening ladies,” I said,
dropping down to my haunches so I could give them each a rub.
Hufflepuff took the three she allotted me and then retreated, while Slytherin took every pat I was
willing to give and then clawed her way up my shirt to sit on my shoulder—her favorite perch in the
house.
Hufflepuff meowed loudly, clearly not amused.
“Don’t be jealous,” I lectured her before checking on their food and water. A girl from Sweet Water, but
just outside Reaper Village, had been watching them, and I made a mental note to hire her again for next
week’s away schedule.
My phone buzzed, and I thumbed it open while Slytherin went to war with my hair.
Langley: Just landed. I debated duct-taping Connell’s mouth shut.
I laughed, startling the kitten and sending her nails through my shirt.
With a hiss, I scooped her between my massive hands and furrowed my brows. “You can’t sit up there
if you leave tread marks, Sly.” I put her onto the floor where Hufflepuff all but shook her head at the
kitten.
Axel: Want me to come get you?
Langley: Of course not. Settle in at home and I’ll have Connell drop me off. Benefits of us all living in
the same neighborhood.
Axel: Tell him if he pranks you, he dies.
Langley: Yes, dear.
I tucked my phone away and went about my usual post-away-game routine, throwing my dirty clothes
into the washer, but holding off on starting it until Langley got home with hers. How easily we’d settled
into a routine that didn’t just accommodate the other person but made them a priority.
Or at least, I had.
I wasn’t oblivious to the fact that Langley was a work in progress.
My phone buzzed again, and I grinned, expecting my wife, then sighed when my lawyer’s name
appeared.
“Hey, Will,” I answered, opening the refrigerator.
“Axel, I’m glad I caught you.” His voice was kind, but he always got to the point quickly. “We’re about
six weeks from your divorce—”
“Seven,” I corrected him, doing the math in my head.
“Six weeks and...three days,” he replied.
“Right.” Suddenly the beer in front of me looked really good.
“I’m not trying to pressure you, but I just needed to know if that was the timeline you were still headed
toward.”
I took the bottle from the refrigerator and popped it on the hockey stick bottle opener Langley had
bought and hung on the kitchen wall. “It’s complicated.” I took a swig.
“This whole thing is complicated,” he said softly. “Hence, why I waited until just about every associate
is out of the office to make this call.”
I sighed and took another swallow. The smooth lager did nothing to settle the pit in my stomach or
provide magical answers.
“I really don’t have a good answer for you, Will. I can tell you that right now we haven’t discussed the
upcoming date, and I honestly don’t want to.” I leaned back against the counter.
“I get that, but that’s why you have me. This is a delicate situation, Axel, not just with your fame, but
the implication that Mrs. Pierce-Nyström bought you for the Reapers by marrying you.”
 “You make it sound…” I shook my head.
“Like that’s exactly what happened.” I pictured him rubbing his hands over his hair and adjusting his
glasses, just like he had when I’d shown up at his office the day after I’d married Langley. “Look, the
prenup agreement will hold. It’s not like she’s going to walk away with your signing bonus or any of your
money.”
“I don’t give a fuck about that,” I growled. She could have it all if she’d just stay.
“I know.” This time it was him sighing through the phone. “I just want you to be prepared.”
“Not really sure there’s a way to be prepared for divorcing the woman you love.” I looked around the
house. Could I even stay here if she decided she wanted out? Every room smelled like her, held touches of
her modern, elegant, minimalist decorating. She was in every square foot of this house. “There’s always
the chance that she’ll decide to stay.”
“Axel, she still has an apartment near the rink. Pays a hefty rent on that sucker, too.”
“I know.” I rubbed the skin between my eyes. “I’m not saying she doesn’t have a safety net. After
what’s happened to her in the past, I can’t fault her that.”
“There’s more.”
My stomach dropped, but I somehow found my voice. “Okay?”
“She changed her name on her driver’s license, social security, and credit cards, you know that, but
her 401K, her investments, her car, and passport are still only in Pierce.”
I blinked, then shook my head. “That’s impossible. Not the accounts, but the passport. We’ve traveled
internationally. We were just in Canada three weeks ago for a game.” I put the bottle down on the counter
with a click as my thoughts took off at light speed.
“The accounts...well, that shows that she was willing to do the day-to-day change, but her long-term
planning remained in her maiden name. And the passport could be the same thing.”
“Right.” My voice slipped into a lower, quieter octave.
“Look, Axel. It’s my job as your attorney to keep you protected on all fronts. I think about these things
so you don’t have to. If you guys stay married, then great, I’ll shred these papers happily. But if you go
through with your initial agreement and need to file, I have the documents ready. That’s all I wanted to
tell you. No matter what your choice is, I have you covered.”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “Right. Thanks, Will.”
“No problem. Good luck this week. I’m looking forward to the Boston game.”
We hung up, and I stared at the open pantry door. The shelves were full of foods we both loved.
Everything in the kitchen was. My health foods and her chocolate. My blender and her coffee pot. We’d
combined everything on the surface, but what about deeper?
I was in love with Langley. I had been since she’d shown up to work with Lukas last year and had given
me an earful of snark and an eyeful of incredible beauty. Never once in that quick visit had I thought
she’d actually be mine. And now she was, all because I’d exploited her need for me on the Reapers.
I’d always been in this deeper than she was, but lately, I’d felt like she was coming around to my end of
the pool, where she didn’t need to touch the ground to feel safe. Was it all in my head?
My cards were on the table with her, but did I really know hers?
A sick, anxious feeling settled in my stomach and I threw back the rest of the beer. Desperate. I felt
desperate. I was wildly in love with a woman who didn’t trust anyone but herself, and I’d done everything
to show her she could trust me but was it enough? What the fuck was I going to do to keep her here? To
keep her married to me?
The front door opened, and I startled.
“I’m home!” Langley’s voice echoed up the entryway.
I threw the empty bottle into the recycling bin and headed for her. “How’s Connell?”
She grinned when she saw me coming, looking over her shoulder as she hung her coat in the hall
closet. “Hi, you. He’s regretting pissing off Regina in travel, that’s for sure.”
“What? That little redhead with the freckles?” I put a face to the name of the woman who made all our
travel arrangements.
“Yep.” She slipped off her heels and sighed in pleasure when her bare feet hit the ground. Her suit was
perfect for business but still feminine, just like she was. “I called her once the TSA mess was solved, and I
guess he must have done something last week because when I told her we needed commercial tickets,
she put him in coach.”
My eyes widened.
“Like, last row coach, where the seats don’t lean back. All six-foot-four of him.” She nodded, shrugging
off her suit coat, leaving her in a red silk blouse and black skirt. “He was definitely not laughing by the
time we landed.”
“Maybe it will teach him to leave the staff alone?” I questioned. The guy was devious. Didn’t hurt
anyone physically, but damn, did he find everything funny. “He hasn’t messed with you, right?”
She laughed, coming over to me and winding her arms around my neck. “Me? He knows better. What
he calls a prank, I call front page of the sports section.”
Her touch soothed the nerves that Will had brought to life, but that sick, desperate feeling still rode at
me hard.
“What’s wrong? You’re all tense. Cats okay?” She looked around my frame.
“They’re fine. I checked on them already.” My fingers wound into her hair, and I pulled the singular,
long pin she’d used to secure the mass of ebony silk in a twist. Her hair tumbled down over my hand in a
rush, flooding me with her bright, citrus scent.
 “Then what is it?” she asked softer.
“Your passport.”
She blinked up at me. “My what?”
“You’ve changed your name on all of your identification but your passport.” I didn’t bring up the
investment accounts. Those I knew she’d never switch over until she felt stable and safe.
“Random, but okay. You’re right. I didn’t.” She shrugged.
A wave of acute pain sliced through my chest.
Her eyes softened, and her fingers played over my trimmed beard. “Baby, passports take forever to get
back here. Usually like eight weeks. When we got married, I knew I had to be in Canada with the team.
With you. I didn’t want our marriage to sideline me during those games, so I asked Regina to ticket me
under my maiden name for international flights so I wouldn’t mess us up.”
My chest loosened with every word she spoke. I knew she’d always put her job first, and she deserved
to, especially with the demands her ex had put on her.
“So this isn’t about me. It’s about your job,” I said slowly.
She nodded. “Yeah. I figured the only logical time I’d even be able to get my passport changed would
have to be summer—”
My mouth slammed over hers, my tongue spearing between her lips to rub along hers. She moaned,
and I kissed her harder, lifting the hem of her skirt until it rested at her waist and then lifting her by the
soft curve of her ass until those long legs wrapped around me.
Her hands held my head as she kissed me back, never once trying to take any of her own weight from
my arms. She trusted me here with her body, but that same desperation was back, clawing at me to
secure her heart.
I hardened almost instantly, and she groaned as I rose to rest in a rigid line against her thong. “I love
that you leave your ass bare,” I growled into her mouth.
She whimpered her answer as I backed her to the wall that ran between the kitchen and the foyer.
Then her hands were in my hair, tugging the tie free so she could get to the strands.
“Do you like this blouse?” I asked between kisses as our breathing escalated.
“Not particularly,” she said as I kissed down her neck.
“Good. Lock your ankles.”
She did as I demanded, and I leveraged my hips to keep her against the wall. Then I took her blouse in
my hands and pulled, sending the delicate buttons flying and revealing soft skin and a red lace bra.
The need to make her come drove every thought of propriety from my head, and I undid the front clasp
of that bra before slipping her pebbled nipple into my mouth. Raging, primal desire held me in its thrall,
and by the way she groaned, tipping her head back against the wall, it held her, too.
I moved back to her mouth and took her moan between my lips when my fingers quested to her center
and found her soaked and needy. “Miss me, min enda kärlek?”
“We were only apart a few hours,” she answered, but then gasped as I sank two fingers inside her
dripping center.
“What was that?” I asked, curving my fingers to stroke her G-spot.
“Oh, God, Axel!” she cried, using her legs to lift her hips and ride my fingers.
“So you did miss me? Feels like you missed me.” I moved my thumb to caress lazy circles around her
clit and watched her eyes slide shut as the sweetest moan slipped from her lips.
“Yes! Yes, I missed you, just, please!” She rocked against me, and my dick throbbed in time with my
heartbeat, taking that desperate feeling from my chest and channeling it elsewhere.
I needed to be inside her now.
“Please, what?” I asked, still circling without touching her directly.
“Baby,” she groaned, her fingers tugging my shirt up so she could stroke my chest.
I slipped my fingers free from her pussy and raised my hands so she could tug it off. Then I flicked
open the button on my pants and unzipped, quickly dropping them and my boxer briefs beneath my ass so
my cock could breathe.
“I need you, Langley,” I told her, knowing I didn’t just mean her body. I needed every part of her, but I
was going to settle for whatever she would give me.
“Yes,” she groaned, her fingers tracing the tattoo that ran from my pec down my arm.
“Right. Now,” I clarified, knowing she preferred to fuck in our room and close to not caring. I needed
her to let go in at least one arena, to free up just a little of that control she kept in a stranglehold.
“Yes,” she nodded, arching her hips so my cock bumped against her entrance.
I didn’t ask again.
My hips rolled and I sunk inside her with a long, hard thrust that ended with me seated fully inside my
wife and her crying out my name.
My lips crashed into hers, kissing her with carnal abandon as she stretched around me, adjusting. I
wasn’t exactly a small man, and keeping things proportionate meant she still needed a second, even
months later. Maybe she’d always need it, and I’d always give it to her.
Once she swirled her tongue around mine and her hips around my cock, I took over.
I kept one hand on her ass and the other I used to cushion behind her shoulder blades so I’d take the
impact, not her soft skin.
Then I fucked my wife against the wall.
There was always an element of making love when I took her, that moment when our souls felt like
they could melt into one. And it was there as I looked into her eyes, watching them glaze and dilate with
pleasure. But there was also an element of pure, primal fucking that had us here, with her moans
answering my growls as I thrust over and over into her tight, welcoming pussy.
Her legs locked around me as she tensed, and her cries escalated in pitch. Any minute she would—
right there. That was it, the soft, keening whimper she made when her pleasure had her so wound that all
she needed was a touch.
I gave it to her, angling my hips so I rubbed hard against her clit with my next thrust.
She came, trembling in my arms as she made my name echo around the cavernous rooms in our home.
Her pussy locked down on my cock, holding me in a stranglehold, and I thrust once. Twice. Three
times. Then I came apart in her arms, coming so hard I had to lock my knees to keep her from falling to
the ground.
Our breaths were haggard as I held her there against the wall.
“I missed you. In case you were wondering,” I said with a grin as she looked at me with a lazy smile.
“I can tell.” Her eyes danced as she licked her lower lip.
I groaned. “I love you so fucking much,” I growled against her mouth. Then I kissed her again. I kicked
off my shoes and stepped out of my pants and boxer briefs, and carried my wife up the sweeping staircase
to our bedroom, and our upgraded, massive, sturdy bed where I made love to her again and again.
I never gave her the chance to respond.
Somewhere deep in my mind, I knew she wouldn’t say it back.
So I convinced her body while she went to battle with her mind.
Here, I was certain I could win.
 14
LANGLEY

“D
amn it,” I snapped in the back of the car as I checked the time on my phone for the sixteenth
time.
“Ma’am?” the driver asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
“Sorry,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I’m fine. Just incredibly, tragically late.”
“I’m taking a shortcut to the event.”
“Thank you for that,” I said and smoothed out my long black dress. I’d barely had time to do my hair
beyond a quick braid and twist into a bun on top of my head.
A horrible libel article had hit the media this morning in response to all the amazing press the Reapers’
had earned lately. Nothing like a firestorm of hard-earned, well-won success to draw out the trolls. And I
had to squash the slander before it caught fire.
It had taken the entire day, a dozen calls, and four threats before I’d gotten the piece of trash taken
down and a retraction printed. I did my job, but it had made me late for Harper and Noble’s helmet
launch—their baby. They’d worked together to revolutionize a brand new kind of athletic helmet, and
while the Reapers’ had first dibs and had been wearing it all season, it was now launching live to the
public. Noble’s dream—to let everyone have access to the safety standards they had set.
And Axel. It was New Year’s Eve and I was supposed to be his date to the event. He’d had to show up
solo, and if I didn’t get there within ten minutes, I’d miss the countdown and the midnight kiss I’d thought
about all day.
I resisted the urge to chew on my lip the whole drive over, not wanting to mar the red lipstick I’d
managed to slide on while rushing out the door.
I love you so fucking much.
His words echoed in my head, over and over again. Like every second I was late, I risked the chance of
never hearing him say it again.
Or get a chance to say it back myself.
I’d been a coward, but at least I was an honest coward. I was terrified to allow Axel to own my heart
like that, regardless of how much I adored that man and everything we’d built these last few months.
But saying the words made it more official than our contracted, timed marriage, and I just…fuck me, I
wasn’t there yet. Not because of anything he’d done, but because I was afraid of letting him down.
Afraid of having to work too much or too long at the wrong time.
Afraid of having to tell him no because of business, even if my heart always screamed to say yes to
him.
I didn’t want to be split down the middle again.
And I knew the clock was ticking, but I hoped I had enough time to figure out a way to own myself one-
hundred percent while also belonging to Axel just as much.
With two minutes to spare, I thanked the driver and hauled ass—as fast as I could in my black pumps—
into the event, barely having time to marvel at the gorgeous historic building Harper had chosen to host
the celebration.
The ballroom had been transformed into an elegant party filled with hundreds of people, some familiar
faces and others new, but there was only one I was interested in.
I scanned the room, finally spotting my Viking in a slick, all black suit, his hair tightly pulled back. He
was all the way across the ballroom, chatting with a laughing Lukas and grinning Faith. Sawyer, Noble,
and Harper completed their little circle, and something sharp stung my insides. For the first time ever, I
cursed my fucking job. Those were my friends, my family, and I wasn’t there to celebrate with them.
The crowd of people around me started chanting, “Ten, nine…” as I pushed and shoved and sprinted
across the marble floor.
“Eight, seven…”
I hurried, not caring about etiquette or manners in that moment.
“Six, five, four…”
A few more steps.
“Three, two…”
I burst through my circle of friends, Axel’s eyes sparking wide as I flung my arms around his neck and
crushed my mouth on his just as everyone screamed zero! His arms immediately slid around my hips as
he drew our bodies flush, never breaking our kiss. Something tight loosened in my chest as I parted my
lips, letting him in fully as he stroked and teased my mouth until we finally had to break apart for air.
Cheers of Happy New Year! rang out around us, and we shared a smile as I tugged him lower so he
could hear me over the crowd.
 “I’m so sorry I’m late,” I said into his ear.
He arched a brow at me, genuine surprise in his eyes. “It’s okay, Langley. I understand the demands of
your job.”
I sighed, the worry that had gnawed on me the whole way here easing a bit.
“I really tried to get out earlier—”
“It’s fine,” he said, cupping my cheek. “You never have to choose with me.”
The words were sweeter than any I love you ever could be, though it was a super close second. The
words built inside my heart, pushing and shoving and begging to burst free.
“I—”
“You made it!” Harper squealed, throwing her arms around me and successfully wrenching me from
Axel’s grasp. I laughed and hugged her back.
“I’m so sorry I missed the beginning,” I said as she released me, waving me off.
“No worries!” She raised her champagne flute. “This party is just getting started! We’re about to head
to Scythe! We need to feed the men more than the tiny hors d'oeuvres they served here.”
“I’m dying to see this famed bar,” Sawyer said and patted his stomach. I was so happy he accepted my
plane ticket to fly out for the event. I’d also given him the keys to the apartment by the arena, the one I’d
never slept in but kept just in case I needed it, so he wouldn’t have to hotel it all weekend. “And yes.
Please. Food. Now.”
Harper and Faith laughed, and I joined them. I reached back to interlock my fingers with Axel’s. “You
hungry?”
“Starved,” he said, but something hot and molten in his eyes suggested it wasn’t only for food. Heat
dusted my skin, and I bit back my smile as I turned back to the girls. “We’re in!”

T HE GIRLS and I took our usual seats at the bar, Sawyer electing to sit with us, leaving the rest of the
Reapers to their normal tables in the back corner.
Echo sauntered out from the kitchen clad in a black lace cami and dark skinny jeans, her purple hair
half braided back, the rest dusting her shoulders.
“Yes!” she hollered, practically skipping toward us. “Here’s my second rush!” She surveyed us all in
suits and ball gowns. “See no one chose to tell me it was fancy-schmancy night. I would’ve pulled my
Cinderella dress out of the attic.” The hint of snark in her voice had me wondering if she truly owned a
gown or was purely making fun of us.
Harper raised her arms in a victory stance. “We launched the helmet to the public!”
“Oh, hell yes! Now that is a reason to get dressed up!” Echo high-fived her. “Congrats, woman! That’s
amazing.”
“Thanks,” Harper said, settling back onto her stool. “You know what I like. Let’s keep the party rolling.
And food. The Reapers need all the food.”
Echo winked. “Already have the chef on it,” she said. “Your three texts were enough of a warning. Grub
will be out in five.”
“You’re a goddess,” I said, and Faith agreed as Echo proceeded to grab all our favorite drinks.
“You pull a double shift today?” I asked, taking my drink. She’d closed last night, too, and then had
mentioned she’d be here in the morning.
Echo shrugged, focusing on the drink she poured for Faith. “Have to go where the money is,” she said.
No arguing with that.
Echo surveyed Sawyer, her eyes raking the array of muscles that were clearly on display now that he’d
hung his suit jacket on the hook on the pillar across the way. In nothing but a tight, white button-down,
the man looked ready to burst out of it if he crossed his arms the wrong way. Sawyer didn’t shy away from
her super-strong-independent-woman gaze, either.
Nope. He held it like the best of them, like any of the Reapers behind me, and it was so damn rare to
see that version of him. The flesh-and-blood male who didn’t have the weight of family responsibilities
sinking his shoulders. I knew he’d switch back to the responsible, strong son he always was once he
returned to Seattle, but I couldn’t be sad about the weekend freedom Harper and Noble’s event had given
him.
“You want an appletini like Harper here?” Echo asked Sawyer, whose brows rose in question. Echo
shrugged. “Assuming you’re one of the girls.”
I choked on my whiskey while Sawyer tilted his head, the move calculated and calm.
“What makes you say that?” he asked.
Echo motioned her head toward us. “This is where the Queens of Reaper Village sit.” She nodded
toward the Reapers’ tables. “Usually they make the boys sit back there,” she teased.
“Ah,” he said, trailing his eyes over her before glancing at us. “Three-to-one ratio?” He smirked. “I love
those odds.”
Faith, Harper, and myself were stunned into silence, content to watch this banter play out.
Echo appraised him before giving him an approving nod. “What are you drinking?”
“Bourbon,” he said.
Echo quickly had a drink in front of him, holding his gaze a bit longer than necessary before she
glanced at us. “I’ll go check on the food.” She winked before heading back into the kitchen.
“Nope,” Faith said.
 “Not a chance,” Harper said.
“She is way too much woman for you,” I finished for us.
Sawyer rolled his eyes. “You three have no clue how much woman I can handle. You only know me as
your best friend.” He eyed Harper and Faith. “Or the U-Dub grad who almost made the Seattle Sharks’
roster.” He glanced at me. “Or the man who takes care of his mother.” Sadness and regret and worry
flickered in his eyes for just a moment. One blink and it was replaced by a young fire I had never seen
before. “That is not the only version of me.”
We surmised him in respectful silence.
“All right then,” I said, holding out my glass tumbler toward his. The girls joined in, and we all clinked
our glasses together.
“To Harper and Noble,” Sawyer said. “Congrats again.”
We all echoed his sentiment before taking large drinks.
I let out a sweet hiss and set my glass on the bar. I was happy for the wind-down drink, but there was
no chance in hell I would have more than I could handle again. Not when I had too much to look forward
to when I got home.
I spared a quick glance in Axel’s direction, the massive man shaking with laughter at something
Connell had said. Lukas clapped him on his back, laughing too. A Scottish man and two Swedes walk into
a bar…
I chuckled to myself, drinking in the sight of Axel so…happy. Genuinely happy. Like a weight had been
lifted from his shoulders from our time in Sweden. With the Reapers surrounding him, he seemed more in
his element than I’d ever seen him before. My heart expanded once again, filling me so much I could
hardly breathe as I turned back to my girls with a stupid beaming smile on my face.
Faith flashed me a knowing look, but I shook my head. Tonight wasn’t a night to talk complicated
emotions regarding my…husband.
Tonight was about Harper.
And for two straight hours, we made sure she knew how damn proud we were of her.
After a short drive home, I moaned as I kicked off my pumps in the foyer. The long work day plus the
hours of celebrating had left me physically and emotionally exhausted. It was all I could do to wiggle out
of my ball gown and collapse on the bed in just my underwear.
“Do you want a shirt?” Axel asked from the closet where he had changed into a pair of sleep shorts.
“Do I need one?” I groaned from where my head rested against the pillow.
“Of course, not,” he said, the mattress sinking under his weight as he settled next to me. “But if you
wanted, I would slide one over you.”
“Mmm,” I mumbled at the gesture, exhaustion settling heavy over my body. “You’re incredible, you
know that?”
“You’ve told me once or twice.” He stroked a hand gently over my bare arm, raising chills in his wake.
I wiggled against him, my body rousing even if my mind was practically mush.
Axel stilled my movements. “I just want to hold you,” he said. “Sleep, Langley. You had a hell of a day.”
He slid his arm over me, tucking my back against his chest as he covered us with the blanket.
Happiness tingled over every inch of me as the heat from his body soothed the aching exhaustion in
mine. I uncoiled completely, sinking into his warmth. My breaths came sure and deep as he held me, just
held me, and yet it felt more intimate than some of our nighttime activities.
Because—I realized as sleep came to claim me—this was what true happiness felt like.
And I’d never experienced it before I married Axel.
 15
AXEL

“S
o what do you have to say about the team’s new nickname?” a reporter from the third row
asked. I’d already answered two of his questions, and now he was getting on my nerves.
“What nickname is that?” I leaned into the microphone, looking out over a sea of press. The
game we’d just won had launched us into first place in our division, but I never took my stock in rankings.
Any given day, the best team in the NHL could fall to the worst. The scoreboard didn’t give a fuck
where you were ranked.
“Inevitable,” he called out.
My eyebrows rose. “I’m sorry, people are calling us inevitable? I know English isn’t my first language,
but that could go so many ways.”
The press corps laughed softly, and a corner of my mouth lifted as I waited for the reporter to respond.
“You know, the whole there are only two inevitable things...the quote by Benjamin Franklin?” He
shrugged.
Langley slid an iPad across my table from where she stood below the dais, and I glanced at the collage
of articles depicted. We were, indeed, being called The Inevitable Reapers.
I laughed and sent the iPad back to my wife with a wink.
She rolled her eyes and faced forward again, ready to jump between me and any unruly questions not
because she was my wife, but because she was damn good at her job.
“Why don’t we get a wink?” another reporter asked.
“My wife is a damn sight prettier than you are,” I answered. Another round of laughter greeted my
answer, but Langley gave me an exasperated glare. We never hid our marriage, but we didn’t exactly
advertise it, either.
“I have to laugh,” I said to the first reporter. “It’s also the third week in January, guys. We’re not calling
anything about us inevitable yet. There are a lot of games to play between now and the playoffs, and
we’re keeping our heads level and our superstitions intact.”
“But still!” he continued even though his turn was up and at least twenty hands were in the air. “It’s
got to be an honor to have a nickname from the great Ben Franklin’s quote, right? Not that you’d know
that, being Swedish, of course.”
My temper frayed.
“Actually, that quote came from Daniel Defoe first. 1726, I think. ‘Things as certain as death and taxes,
can be more firmly believed,’ if my memory serves me right. Ben Franklin’s letter, where he said, ‘In this
world, nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes,’ was written in 1789. But, if you’re
asking if I think Inevitable sounds cooler than Certain, I can definitely agree with you.” I grinned as his
smile faltered.
Another chuckle went through the crowd.
Langley arched an eyebrow in my direction, and I took the hint.
“Not just a pretty face,” I teased, gesturing to my face. “How about you?” I pointed to the opposite side
of the room, where another reporter waited with her hand raised.
“How is Price getting along with the team?” she asked.
“Wonderfully,” I answered. “We braid each other’s hair before the games.”
Langley shook her head as another rumble of laughter rolled over the crowd. Then she pointed to the
next reporter, a guy in the back corner.
“Axel, what do you say to people who question the timing of your marriage with the signing of your
contract?” he called out over the crowd.
Langley stiffened in front of me, and I would have given anything to be able to slide my hand into hers
at that moment.
“I’d say that I’m never one to answer personal questions in a public forum, but given that my wife also
works for the Reapers, I’ll let it slide. Once. I met my wife a year-and-a-half ago when she was with the
Seattle Sharks, and she knocked me on my ass within a heartbeat. Distance robbed us of too many
chances, and the minute I decided to become a Reaper I also decided to stop wasting time.”
His eyes narrowed slightly like he was unwilling to let go of the juicy little tidbit he was certain he’d
discovered. “And what made you finally decide you were ready to leave Sweden? I know you’ve had
multiple offers from the NHL over the last ten years. Can we at least thank the lovely Mrs. Nyström for
getting you to Charleston?”
“Mrs. Pierce-Nyström,” I corrected him. God, I wished I could see her face, but she stood, staring out
at the reporters as her job demanded. “If you know about the other offers, then you’ll also know that I’ve
raised my younger brother since our parents died. The timing of the Reapers receiving the expansion bid
coupled with my brother’s graduation from school and subsequent signing of his own SHL contract was
fortuitous. But if you’re asking if it’s the people who drew me to the Reapers, then the answer is
unequivocally yes.
“I came to Charleston for Archer Silas, who promised state-of-the-art safety equipment and a player-
centered team. I came for Gage McPherson, whom I’ve known for a few years and who more than earned
my respect as a player and now a coach. I came for my childhood best friend, Lukas Vestergaard, who
needed his ego dropped a few notches because he’s entirely too pretty. Thankfully, we signed Logan Ward,
too, so Lukas doesn’t have to hold that heavy title of most attractive.” Another rumble of laughter. “But
the fact that the woman I’m in love with is also on the Reapers’ staff is absolutely what brought me here
over any other city. Or have you never moved to be with a woman you’ve loved?”
The reporter blinked and flushed as more than a few others turned to look at him. Not all of their
gazes were as kind as mine. He’d overstepped, and I had no issue putting him back in his damned place.
“Now, I’m not sure Langley got a good signing bonus on this contract, honestly.” I wiggled the finger
that held my wedding ring. “You couldn’t pay me enough money to live with me. You know who else got
the short end of that stick? Vestergaard’s wife, who has to deal with the two of us living next door to each
other. We may as well be ten years old again.”
The press room rumbled again with laughter, and I quickly selected another reporter.
I answered another twenty minutes’ worth of questions before I left the dais with a wave. Usually
Langley led the way, and I followed—which struck me now as indicative of the rest of our lives—but this
time I took her soft hand in mine as we left the press room.
She paused at my side while I signed a few autographs in the large hallway, and then her hand was
right back in mine as we walked to her office.
This was my favorite part after every home game. The score was recorded. Gear stored. Ice smoothed
over for the next round. I’d showered off the sweat and left only the sweet taste of a win. Now we’d go
home together and do something so utterly domestic I’d never believe an arena of twenty thousand fans
had been screaming my name earlier.
Then I’d make Langley scream it for an audience of just me.
She closed her office door behind us and offered me a soft smile. “Inevitable versus certain?”
I shrugged and sat back against her desk, crossing my arms over my chest. “Guy was annoying me.”
She clicked the lock on her door and came toward me. “The other question?”
“The one about our marriage?” I asked as she stood between my outstretched legs and looped her
arms around my neck.
“Yep. I’ve been afraid of that question since the moment I agreed to marry you.” She swallowed,
looking up at me with so much emotion in her eyes that I felt my chest constrict.
I wrapped one hand around her waist and used the other to stroke the back of my fingers down the
soft skin of her cheek. “You have?”
“I have. I’ve been terrified of watching my credibility slide down the drain. And you…” She shook her
head as a slow smile spread across her beautiful face. “You took that question in stride like it was the
least of your concerns.”
“It is.” I pressed my lips to her forehead. “Langley, I love you. Nothing I said in there was a lie. I’ve
known you were mine from the day you walked into Lukas’s house. I left Sweden for you because for the
first time since my parents died, I was allowed to ask myself what I wanted, not just what was best for
Tage. He’s been my number one priority since I was sixteen. I’m twenty-nine years old and I’m just now
able to think about what I see for my future. Who I see, and it’s you. Nothing I said in there was a lie. I’m
never scared of a question that has such a truthful answer.”
She blinked as tears pooled in her eyes. “You left Sweden for me?”
“You know that. You might deny it and say it’s the millions or the hockey. But I’ve never cared about
money as long as Tage and I had enough, and I’d be just as happy playing at home as I am here. What
Charleston has that Sweden doesn’t, is you.”
“But you left Tage.” Her lips pursed, and her forehead wrinkled.
“And he knows how happy I am with you,” I whispered.
She shook her head. “You’ve lived your whole life raising him. Basically being his second dad.”
“I’d say Mom, too, but she was way prettier in a dress.” I lifted a corner of my lips, hoping the humor
might earn me one of her smiles. “Langley, I don’t regret anything. I don’t believe in regrets, anyway. My
parents died. I raised Tage, and it was an honor. He grew up. I finally was able to act on my feelings for
you, and I did. The only part of any of that I would take back is losing my parents. The rest? It’s led me
here, and any series of events that brings me to you, I’m okay with, including the contract that got my
ring on your finger. I know how we started, but I also know that isn’t where we’re at now.”
She rose and pressed her mouth to mine, and when my lips parted, she took it deeper, sliding her
tongue along mine. When her hands dug into my hair, I spun us, until her ass was on the desk. A quick
movement and I had her thighs spread, her hips pressed against mine, and her head tilted back as I took
over.
This right here was my world—my wife was all that mattered. I could win or lose out on that ice, but it
all paled in comparison to the joy she brought with a single smile.
I tugged her harder against me and kissed her like there was nothing waiting outside that door for us.
Her breath caught as I palmed her breast through her tailored jacket, finding her nipple hard even
through the fabric.
Her heels dug into my ass, and I almost grinned. She was wearing the ones with the red bottoms that
made her squeal when I’d given them to her a little over a week ago for our five-month anniversary.
That prim pencil skirt was hitched to her thighs, and when she pulled back from me, leaning on her
palms, the button on her coat slipped, revealing her silk blouse. Her lips were kiss swollen, her eyes hazy
with need, and her hair falling from the perfect little twist she kept it in. She looked like a debauched
librarian, and I was more than ready to make payment for whatever books I had overdue. Holy fucking
fantasy.
While I ogled, she leaned up, grabbed a hold of my tie, and tugged me toward her.
“I know you hate dressing up,” she said against my lips, “but I could thank God for the way you look in
a tie.”
“Thank Coach.” I grinned, then leaned her back against the smooth, polished cherry of her desk top.
Of course, it was impeccably clean and organized, just like my Langley.
I ground against her, already hard, and she answered with a hip thrust of her own, pushing back
against me with a moan.
“Shhh,” I chastised her even as I kissed a path down her throat. “What if someone’s walking by?”
When she didn’t respond, I looked to see that her eyes had popped wide.
“You’ll have to be so very quiet,” I whispered as my hand crept up her silky thigh.
“Axel,” she hissed, conflicted as her gaze darted between the door and my hand.
My phone rang in my back pocket, and I slipped it free, then threw it over Langley’s head, where it slid
to a stop somewhere before the end of her desk. Then I sent my fingers up until I reached the damp patch
of the white lace she wore. I fucking loved that she never wore pantyhose. It was always so easy to get to
her.
“Tell me no,” I ordered softly as I ran my fingers down the fabric.
She bucked against my hand and whimpered, but still, her eyes flew to the door and the noise of
people walking by. This side of the house was always crowded after a game. “Axel…”
I reached beneath her thong and slipped two of my fingers into her swollen center. Her pussy
contracted around me, and she cried out loudly enough for me to tsk at her. “All you have to say is stop,
and I’ll stop,” I promised.
And I would. But I also was hoping she wouldn’t ask me to. Inch by inch, I dragged her out of her
cleanly colored lines. I let her see that sex wasn’t only for the bedroom. Tenderness and affection weren’t
reserved for privacy. Friendship wasn’t reserved for platonic relationships.
I could hold her hand in the hallways at the rink. It wouldn’t affect the way people saw her.
I could be her friend. It would only strengthen our relationship.
I could fuck her in her office, and all she’d feel was pleasure.
She didn’t need the lines she’d drawn to keep her safe. I’d keep her safe if she’d just trust me.
“Please,” she whispered, rocking her hips back on my fingers.
“Please what?” I asked, using my thumb to gently work her clit.
“That!” she cried out, then slammed her own hand over her mouth. Her head fell back against her
desk, but her eyes stayed locked on mine.
“This?” I added a third finger, thrusting inside her soft walls.
She nodded and reached for me, but when she couldn’t span the distance, dropped her hands.
“Just enjoy,” I told her as my hand tested the soft curve of her waist. My fingers within her moved
relentlessly, and even though my cock pushed against my pants, pulsing with need to get inside her, I
focused all of my attention on Langley.
Her legs started to tremble...and her fucking phone rang.
“No,” I ordered, taking her phone from her suit pocket with that empty hand and sliding it to collide
with mine. “Be here. Be with me.”
Her legs shook, and her eyes darted over her shoulder to where it rang, even as I felt her orgasm
building in the clasp of her muscles, the pounding of her pulse at her throat.
“Okay,” she agreed.
I wanted to scream out in victory. To celebrate even harder than I had when I’d scored twice this
evening. Instead, I curled my fingers, found that spot that drove her out of her mind, and proceeded to
make my wife scream into her fist.
Her orgasm tore through her as she let go, and I knew it had been her choice. She could have kept
herself from coming. Could have blocked me out and answered the phone. She’d done it before when
we’d been interrupted. But in this moment? She chose me.
I loved her even more for it.
As I brought her down, coaxing her aftershocks down even as I started to rebuild that fire, our phones
rang in tandem.
“Damn it, can’t we just be left alone?” Langley snapped, then rolled slightly, reaching for my phone,
not hers. “Mikael Svensson?”
Tage’s coach. I reached for the phone as I slid my fingers from her. The only reason he’d call was if
something was wrong.
“Mikael?” I answered in Swedish.
Langley watched me but cursed when she saw something on her phone and answered it.
“Axel. I’m so sorry to call you like this, but we’re here in the hospital. Tage has been injured, and
we’re…” His breathing stuttered, and my heart hit the floor.
“Is he okay?” I demanded. It was a little after five here, which made it after eleven at home. Shit, he’d
had a game tonight. “Mikael!”
 “Axel, I don’t know. They’re not telling us anything, but he went down hard. They had to bring a
stretcher onto the ice. That’s why I’m calling you. You’re the next of kin.”
Everything in me turned to ice and shattered.
 16
LANGLEY

“I
need you down here now!” Gage’s voice was frantic. I plugged my free ear with my finger,
drowning out the words Axel fired in Swedish to Svensson, whoever that was. Likely one of his
friends calling about the game. “Now, Langley! Cannon punched a ref outside the locker room!”
“Oh fucking hell,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“One of the ref’s buddies has already called the fucking League.”
“Shit, shit, shit.” I hurried around my desk, pulling down my skirt and grabbing my bag. The tingly
bliss Axel had just given me all but evaporated as adrenaline kicked in. “I’m on my way. Make sure he
doesn’t say a damn word to anyone.”
“On it.” Gage hung up, and I immediately filed through my contacts, pulling up anyone and everyone I
knew in the League.
Axel fired off again in rapid Swedish, the concerned tone halting me in my tracks. I finally glanced up
from my phone, noting the slight panic in his eyes. More Swedish followed by some intense nodding and
then he shoved his cell in his pocket.
“Tage is hurt.”
“Omigod, what happened?” I asked, my chest tightening.
“Took a hard hit into the net, and with the angle of the collision, he tore both ACLs.
That’s...catastrophic. They have to be repaired. Surgery will happen before we can even make it over
there.” Axel strode toward my office door.
“Axel, I’m so sorry,” I said, a slight relief in my voice. An ACL wasn’t life threatening, thank God, but it
could ruin his career. “That is awful. Of course you need to go.”
He paused with his hand on the knob, tilting his head as he looked back at me, his long hair falling
over his shoulder with the move. “We need to go,” he said. “Langley, I need you with me—”
“I have to get downstairs and handle this shit storm Cannon just landed us in. He punched a ref—”
“This is my baby brother,” Axel cut me off, his words lethal and quiet. “This is family.”
“I understand that,” I said, my throat tightening. “And if I didn’t have to do my job right this second, I’d
go with you. But I can’t. I have to fix this. This is what the Reapers pay me for.”
Axel parted his lips, opening and closing them like he couldn’t form the words. He sucked in a sharp
breath and crossed the distance between us. His hands were gentle as he clutched my shoulders. “He’s
your family too. And he’s the last piece of mine. I’ve never asked you to put your career on the sidelines,
but I need you. I’m…he’s never been this hurt before. He’s never had surgery. I don’t...I can’t imagine, if
something goes wrong—”
“You can’t think like that,” I said, reaching up to wrap my arms around his neck. I held him, my chest
splitting in two. “He’ll be fine. He’s in great hands.” I squeezed him a little harder, hating that the career-
mode side of my brain was ticking down the seconds until I could put out the fire occurring downstairs.
Hating that I couldn’t be there for Axel in this instant. “I’ll fly over the second I put an end to this. I’ll
catch up to you—”
“What?” He stepped out of my embrace, nothing but pure hurt and betrayal coloring his eyes.
“I have to get this done, and from what Gage is saying, it’s going to take more than the next hour. You
need to get on a plane, now. I’ll handle the mess here as fast as I can, and then I’ll fly out and meet you.”
“Langley, I’m not asking you to choose between your career and mine. I promised I’d never do that. I’m
asking you to choose your family over a paycheck.”
“I can’t walk out on this, Axel. I gave my word to the Reapers, and if I don’t keep it now, you might not
have that inevitable team to come back to. Not without Cannon.” I kept my voice as level and calm as I
could, handling him like he was a player—a client, rather than letting my emotions rule with my husband.
“You think I give a shit about any of that right now?” He narrowed his gaze, surveying me like he’d
never seen me before. “How is this a choice for you? He’s family. Your family! He has no one but me, and I
have no one but you. How can you be so…cold?”
The word clanged through me like a physical blow.
So much that I took a step back.
“I didn’t mean…” He rubbed his palms over his face. “Just come with me. Please. Don’t make me do
this alone.”
I’d never heard or seen him so vulnerable, but I couldn’t stop hearing cold echoing in my head.
What if I did go with him?
Walked out on the Reapers?
Faith couldn’t handle something of this magnitude. Every second I stood here arguing with Axel was
another moment the problem downstairs grew.
 If I left now, I’d lose my job. A family emergency wouldn’t be an option in this situation. Not for me.
Not when I had the League to deal with. And in a few weeks, this job might be all I had. Sure, Axel said he
loved me, but we’d never once discussed what would actually happen when our contract was up. And he
was making me choose. He swore he’d never make me choose.
“You’re my wife,” he pled.
“For only three more weeks, right?”
He flinched. “What are you saying?”
I swallowed back the tears threatening to crack my resolve. “It’s the truth, right? Three more weeks
and then we’re no longer husband and wife. You made this deal, Axel. You knew who I was. How
important my job is to me. You think I want to go down there and do this instead of coming with you to
help your brother?”
“Maybe you do. Maybe it’s safer to handle everything, control everything instead of asking for help and
letting go for once.”
Another sharp twist in my chest.
He shook his head, his eyes trailing me up and down before he walked to the door. “Maybe all I ever
was to you was another signed player on the Reapers. But you got me here, right? I was stupid enough to
think it was more than just business, but you...you’re all business, and I’m not. At least I won’t be on your
to-do list. The press will love seeing me rush to my brother’s side, and I know how you love good optics.”
“Axel—”
He slammed the door behind him.
And my heart trembled from the power behind his exit.
Curl up in a ball, cry, rage—that’s all I wanted to do.
But I couldn’t.
Not yet.
Because I was Langley fucking Pierce.
And a Reaper had set fire to our house.
It was time I put it out.

“I DON ’ T CARE what you have to do, who you have to call. Get. Those. Tapes.” I almost felt sorry for the
security director who handled all the security footage at Reapers’ arena. Almost. Because from the
annoyed look on his face, he was being difficult on purpose.
“It will take me a couple of days to track that footage,” he grumbled.
I took a step closer to him, never losing his gaze. “You have twenty-four hours. Get it to me, or I’ll have
a discussion with Asher Silas about hiring a security team who is faster.”
He jolted at that, perked up, and nodded. “I’ll get to work.” He spun on his heels and hurried down the
hallway to where his office was located.
I gave myself a moment to breathe before clicking into the locker room.
“Is he still here?” I asked Gage, who sat with his head between his hands in the coach’s office.
“I sent him home. Had Connell and Logan follow him to make sure he actually went to his house.”
Gage’s voice was…defeated.
I sighed and took the empty seat across his desk.
“I’ll handle this, Gage. You know I will.”
I hurt Axel.
I hurt Axel in order to handle this.
I shoved the pain storming my chest into a box that I would crack open later.
“I know,” he said, raking his hands through his black hair. Those blue eyes locked with mine. “Do you
think it was a mistake?”
I furrowed my brow. “Signing Cannon? No. He’s one of the best right wings I’ve ever seen. He needs
some grooming—attitude wise—but it was the right call.”
Gage shook his head. “Not him.”
I tilted my head.
“Me.” He sighed. “Do you think Silas made a bad call choosing me to be the head coach of the
Reapers?” I parted my lips, but he cocked an eyebrow at me. “I want the business Langley to answer. Not
the woman who has been my friend through bad seasons and Stanley Cups.”
“You had no coaching experience before Silas offered you the job.”
Gage’s shoulders sank as he nodded like I’d confirmed all his blistering doubts.
“On paper,” I hurried to continue. “On paper, Gage. And official documents are overrated.” My own
marriage contract was simply a piece of paper compared to what Axel and I had—or hoped we still had if I
hadn’t ruined it…
How the hell could I fix this? The League had me on lock down for at least three days while they
deliberated and I gathered evidence. If I couldn’t get on a plane right this second, how could I possibly
make Axel understand?
“Half the boys on the Sharks are better players because of you,” I continued, forcing my aching heart
and the emotions storming my body into a tight box. “You led that team, Gage. The players looked to you
for guidance before they looked to Coach Harris. You were approachable and the best on the team. Who
better to hone their skills and make the Sharks nearly unstoppable?”
 He pressed his lips together.
I leaned forward, ensuring he heard every word. “There are coaches and owners who only care about
wins and losses. Cups and checks. But there are incredible coaches who take an interest in the players,
who learn how to teach each one individually based on their specific learning style. There are coaches
who show up when a player’s personal life takes a turn for the worse, and coaches who listen first and
react second. Those are the ones who last. Those are the ones whose players will fight longer and harder.
Because they’re fighting for a family. Not a team. And you’ve always been that kind of coach, Gage. You
just didn’t have the official title.”
Water shimmered in his eyes, but he quickly cleared his throat. “Well, shit,” he said, laughing softly.
“Hiring you was certainly an easy decision.”
I smiled at my friend as I scooted back in my chair. “Like you had anyone else who could wrangle these
Reapers as well as me.”
“No question,” he said, watching as I walked to the door. “This week is going to be rough without Axel,
not just on the ice. He’s the glue that holds this group together. Hey, are you sure you want to stay?
Anyone would understand if you wanted to get on the next flight. Faith could step in.”
I chewed on my lip for a second, debating. This was the first time in my entire career where I was split
down the middle. I wanted to go to Axel. To be there for Tage. But this was bigger than delegation. If
things went south, this incident could ruin the Reapers.
“Faith is phenomenal,” I finally said. “But I’d hardly throw her to the wolves with something like this.”
Of course, Gage knew what had happened. Axel was in danger of violating his contract for leaving the
Reapers shorthanded. “Axel is taking care of our family in Sweden, and I’m taking care of our Reaper
family.”
Axel had to understand that, right?
Then why do I feel like my world is spiraling?
“Okay. If you’re sure,” he said. “Tell that husband of yours that I’ve got him covered with Silas. There’s
a clause in every contract about missing games for the health emergencies of our children, and given that
Axel raised his brother, he qualifies. I know he said he only needs a week, but if it turns out things are
worse there, and he needs to extend, just tell him to call me. You know my personal philosophy is family
first, and I respect the hell out of every man who feels the same. ACL tears are nothing to joke about.
They’re excruciatingly painful to start with, and even if the surgery goes well, that kid’s hockey career is
probably over.”
He only needed a week? Gage knew more about the trip than I did.
“I’ll tell Axel, and I’ll have a sit-down with Cannon in a couple of days. Give him time to cool off before
I get the real story out of him.”
“Good luck. He wouldn’t talk to anyone.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said, hand on the knob. “And Gage?”
“Yeah?”
“You ever start doubting yourself again?”
His brows rose.
“I’ll slap some sense into you.” I winked and walked out the door, his laughter following me out of the
locker room.
I was met by a duo of meowing from Slytherin and Hufflepuff when I walked in my door twenty-
minutes later. They were obviously starving, having not been fed since this morning. God, it had been a
long day.
I kicked off my pumps and padded barefoot through the house, never realizing how empty it felt
without Axel’s presence. I dumped some cat food into their respective bowls and headed to the bedroom,
not even bothering to find something to eat for myself.
I shed my tailored blazer and skirt, sliding into my softest pair of cotton pants and shirt, sighing with
the contact. The “business me” gone, I sank onto my bed and let everything I’d been holding at bay wash
over me.
Tears flowed freely, and I truly wanted to wreck myself for what had happened.
But he’d called me cold when he’d known what having to choose between my career and my personal
life meant to me. He knew and yet he’d still pulled that card.
Of course, I was worried about his brother. Even if it were Faith in that hospital, I wouldn’t have been
able to leave. Not until this was handled.
Of course, I wanted to be with Axel. Wanted to support him and tell him it was okay. But, when the
League got involved in these matters worse things could happen than simply losing a player. Gage
could’ve been investigated. It could have been a mess. A mess I was still in the process of cleaning up. I’d
only cooled off the League. I had three days to prove it was a provoked attack or shit would really hit the
fan.
That’s why I wasn’t on a plane right now flying to Axel.
Because the job wasn’t done.
I reached for my cell, wanting to call him, but he was likely still in flight.
And the way he’d left…
God, I hoped he understood. Hoped things would be better when he came back. That he’d give me the
chance to explain properly. Explain what it meant to me that he understood and accepted both sides of me
—business and personal. Because I didn’t know how to be anyone else.
And I thought…I had thought he knew me better than anyone.
 Slytherin and Hufflepuff hopped onto the bed with quiet cat-feet, curling up next to me in the
incredibly vacant spot Axel had left on his side of the mattress. One tabby, one all black. Two different
personalities, two different houses, yet they’d found a way to get along. To thrive together.
Surely, Axel and I could too.
 17
AXEL

“S
top flirting with the nurse and eat your lunch,” I lectured Tage as I sank back into the armchair
that flanked his bed.
Tage scoffed in my direction as the young nurse shot me a shy smile and basically ran from
the room.
“First you boss around the entire staff, kick my teammates out of my room, and now you’ve scared off
my only possibility of fun.” He rolled his eyes. “Exactly when are you going back to the states?”
Going back.
Because that’s where I lived now. It didn’t matter how badly he was going to need me here during the
recovery process, I was under contract for seven-and-a-half more years. I wasn’t just a Reaper, I belonged
to the Reapers.
“Four more days, and considering you’ve just had a double ACL repair, flirting is the only fun you’ll be
having for a while.” I was on day three of Tage-watch, and soon, I’d have to hop a flight back to
Charleston in time for the Hurricanes game. We’d kicked their ass on their own home turf the first time,
and they were itching for a rematch. But hey, I guess you’re not an NHL team until you have a rival, and
we may have found ours.
Which meant I had four days to solidify Tage’s care plan. He’d thrown a blood clot after surgery, and
after a near-miss with a pulmonary embolism yesterday, we’d be here at least until tomorrow while he
was under observation.
“You’re such a killjoy,” Tage said with a pained smile as he leaned back against his pillow. He put on a
brave face when the nurses came, but it was worse when his teammates were here. They were good guys
—I even knew a few of them, but Tage acted like the pain was nothing until I watched his face drain of
color and exhaustion sweep over him from the effort of acting okay. Then I kicked the guys out so Tage
would take his meds and give his body the rest it needed.
“Eat,” I ordered again, reaching for the book I’d brought with me so he wouldn’t feel like he had to
entertain me. “You need the calories, and if your mouth is full, I don’t have to listen to your whining.”
That earned me a solid laugh. “You’re a pain in my ass, Axel, but I’m glad you’re here.” His head rolled
toward me, and my heart clenched with the struggle I saw in his eyes.
I reached over and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
“But you should be.” He nodded at the copy of ESPN magazine on the table next to me. The copy I
happened to be on the cover of. “Your team needs you.”
I hadn’t told him what the doc had confided in me this morning—he would walk again, probably even
run. But it wouldn’t be without pain. The likelihood was high that Tage had played his last professional
game.
“You’re my team,” I told him. “You and me first, remember? That was always the deal.”
He swallowed, turning to look up at the ceiling. “The Reaper contract was the first you signed that
didn’t have an entire section about me in it.”
“Eh.” I didn’t let go of his hand, mostly because he had a death grip on it. “Even this contract has a
clause about kids, or at least that’s what the owner emailed about a couple of days ago.”
“You’ve given up too much for me,” he muttered.
I immediately stood to hover over him. “I exist because of you. I didn’t shrivel up and die with Mom
and Dad because of you. I had purpose because of you. I have family alive because of you. Any perceived
sacrifice is nothing compared to those four facts. So don’t ever say that bullshit again.” I sat back by his
bedside as a lone tear escaped the corner of his eye and tracked down the side of his face.
“And what if I can’t play again?” he whispered, looking so much younger than his nearly-nineteen
years.
“Then you’ll have to learn to hold on so I can strap you to my back like when we were kids.”
He choked out a laugh but met my eyes before turning his attention back to his elevated legs.
“Now eat something before I have to feed you like we’re still kids.”
He flipped me off, but he ate.

“S O YOU ’ RE SAYING he can’t fly?” I asked the doctor the next day as we stood in the hallway just outside
Tage’s room.
“Not for six weeks,” he confirmed, looking at me apologetically.
I folded my arms across my chest and wracked my brain to come up with any kind of solution. “I can’t
stay.”
 “I understand, Mr. Nyström. I’m amazed your team has allowed you to be here this long,” he said
softly.
My eyebrows rose, and a flush of red crept up his neck. “I know who you are, and who your brother is.
He was our most promising young player.”
“He still is,” I answered automatically, knowing that if anyone could come back from this kind of injury,
it was Tage.
“Right, of course.” He handed me a pamphlet. “We can move him to a rehab facility for the next couple
of weeks, or if he’d like to go home, we have a team of excellent home aids. He should be able to start
walking in about three weeks. It’s tricky since both knees needed to be repaired.”
I looked over the information, but none of it sank in. “I’ll talk to him about it, and we’ll come to a
decision.” I was down to three days, and without the clearance to fly to the States, he’d be here on his
own.
It dawned on me in the sterile hallway, that this was the first time I’d regretted signing with the
Reapers. The first time I felt like it had cost more than I’d gained.
I parted ways with the doctor and sat in the empty family room, taking in the absolute stillness. What
the fuck was I going to do? My thumb swiped open my phone, and Langley’s face filled my home screen.
She’d been laughing at something I’d said, her head thrown back in a moment of uncommon abandon.
She was beautiful.
She hadn’t come.
I debated calling her, checking in to see how she was, or to get her opinion on what to do about Tage’s
care. But she’d made it clear that work was her first priority, even over family.
My phone rang, and my heart jumped into my throat thinking that maybe it was—
Lukas.
“Hey,” I answered, letting my head fall back against the wall.
“How is he? Why the fuck haven’t you called?” he snapped. “I haven’t heard from you since you landed
at the airport!”
“Been a little busy, asshole.” I laughed without joy. “God, Luk. He had to have both ACLs repaired. One
tore, and one ripped clean off the bone. Then he threw a fucking blood clot, and I almost lost him.” I shut
my eyes against the glaring overhead lights.
“Shit. I’m so sorry, Axel. What’s the prognosis?”
“He’ll walk, probably run with pain, but skating…” My throat closed.
“Fuck.”
We both knew that one day we’d be too old, too slow, too broken to play professionally, but to see it
happen to someone as young as Tage was soul crushing.
“He can’t fly for six weeks, and I can’t stay. I don’t know what to do,” I ended in a whisper. At least if
someone had to hear me lose my shit, it was my best friend.
“What does Langley think?”
“I’ll tell you if she ever calls.”
“What?” His voice escalated. “Are you telling me she hasn’t called?”
“Why would she? She had no problem reminding me that we’re divorcing in three weeks.” A bitter
taste coated my tongue.
“What? When?”
“Right after I found out and begged her to come with me. But she was too busy handling Cannon’s shit
show to be here with me.” I’d learned in the States that there was a whole different definition for salty,
and I was pretty much the poster boy at the moment.
“The Cannon shit is bad. He hasn’t played at all this series, and we only have one game left before we
head back to Charleston.”
“How have you guys held up in Chicago?” I fell into the Reaper world for a second, letting the weight
of the hospital lift from my shoulders.
“Lost the first by two and second by one.”
I cursed.
“How…” I sighed again. God, I was turning into a mopey ass. “How is Langley?”
“She’s Langley. Handling the Cannon situation as professionally as possible, but I can tell she’s
worried. She’s sad.”
My chest tightened. “She’ll get the situation figured out, and she’ll be fine.”
“I think she’s stressed about you,” Lukas said slowly.
“I highly doubt it.” Cynicism rolled through me, stretching its dark, oily thoughts all through my veins.
“Axe, she cares about you.”
“Cares about me? That’s great. I love her, Lukas. I’m in love with her. I married her. I moved to
Charleston for her. I have two cats because of her. Well, I guess I had two cats, but I won’t be the dick
Devon was, so naturally, she’ll get them in the divorce.” She’d move back to her apartment by the arena,
and I’d be left in that giant fucking house with every single memory we’d made.
The cracking in my chest felt suspiciously like a broken heart.
“Yeah, I know,” he said softly. “Just don’t give up on her. You know her past, and she’s never going to
feel like she can put someone before her job. It’s why her mom abandoned her. And it was all she had
when Devon walked out, and she probably thinks it’s all she’ll have when you leave too.”
“She’s the one leaving. Not me. I physically left the country to be here with my brother. She
emotionally left me. She chose the money, the paycheck over family.” Just when I’d thought we were
breaking new ground and building something real together.
“She chose certainty over the risk.”
“Are you really excusing her?” I sat up, relieved to see that I was still in the waiting room. The risk of
reporters here was nothing compared to back in the states, but I didn’t need strangers knowing about the
giant dumpster fire of my home life.
“No,” Lukas answered, and I could almost picture him shaking his head. “I’m telling you not to put a
knife into your relationship. I know you. You love hard, man, but when you’re done, you sever that shit
even harder. Do. Not. Sever. It. Not while you’re reeling from what’s happened to Tage. Fighting for your
relationship is worth it.”
I heard Faith’s voice enter the background and guessed she’d just come into their hotel room. Faith,
who’d uprooted her whole life to be with Lukas. Who’d modified her dream so they could both have it all.
“Sure, for you. Because let’s be honest. If you were in my chair, here for your mom? Your grandmother?
You know Faith would be sitting right beside you. She would have handed her workload over to Langley
and chosen you.”
“She would have,” he agreed. “But you didn’t fall in love with Faith. You fell for Langley, and that
independence of hers was one of the first things you mentioned about her.”
“Yeah, and maybe it’s not fair to expect her to grow, to change,” I admitted. “But just once, I wish
she’d choose me. Not just over her job, but over everything. Because if you told me she was in the
hospital right now, I would get on the next flight to be by her side. I would leave Tage, just like I did
before and show up for Langley. But she’d have to check her schedule if the roles were reversed. Hell,
she’d probably tell the ambulance to wait after whatever press conference she’d set up was done.”
“Don’t be a drama queen.”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
Silence stretched between us.
“Do you know how badly I want to be wrong? How much I want to look up and see her walking down
the hallway right now? I’d get over the fact that she didn’t get on the first fucking plane if she just got on
any plane that wasn’t to Chicago. But she’s there, with you and the team.”
“My friend, I don’t...I don’t know what to say. I know she’s asked me about you, but I thought she was
just asking for my perspective on the situation, not for actual information. I can tell it’s killing her not to
be there for you.”
“Maybe, but she’s not. I think…” I sucked in a breath and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Lukas, I
think we’re done.”
“Don’t say that. This is one fight. Hell, it’s not even a fight if you’re not speaking. It’s a non-fight.”
“Give me that phone,” I heard Faith grumble and then the sound of a soft struggle.
“Axel?” Faith asked, her voice high and worried.
The last thing I wanted was another fucking lecture on how Langley’s fears trumped mine. How her
past scarred her more than mine had. I knew that all. I also didn’t fucking care at the moment.
“Hey, Faith. Look, I have to get going.”
“Wait. Please?” She sounded so damn sad.
“What is it?”
“She’s a wreck. She misses you. She’s worried about fucking up this whole thing with Cannon, that it
will cost her this job. She’s worried about Tage. I see her hover over your name in her phone, and she’s
checking her text messages all the time. She’s carrying around that copy of ESPN like you might just pop
out of the cover.”
“She hasn’t even called.” Fuck, I sounded like a broken, whiny record.
“Have you?” she challenged.
“No, I haven’t. Instead, I’ve been dealing with doctors and decisions and another operation to remove
a blood clot. I’ve monitored his heartbeat and shoved food down his throat. And don’t tell me she hasn’t
had a minute away from this bullshit with the ref. Faith, I’ve taken every step in our relationship. I
proposed. I moved her into our house. I’ve been as supportive as I can possibly be without literally
becoming her fucking girlfriend. I’ve told her that I’m in love with her, that she’s the only woman I’ll ever
want. So you tell me if I should have to pick up the fucking phone because she chose another man’s
problems over her husband, her family. I’ve been there every time she’s needed me, and the first time I
need her, really need her, she has bigger things to deal with on her color-coded agenda.”
Faith sucked in her breath and let it out in a shaky sigh.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Faith, you didn’t deserve—”
“It’s okay,” she answered quietly. “Just take care of yourself and Tage, okay? And try not to give up on
Langley. She was so broken this time last year, and I hoped…” She trailed off.
“I hoped I’d fix her, too,” I admitted. “Instead, I just let her break me.” I noticed a young boy standing
across the hallway waiting just out of earshot with a copy of ESPN in his hand. “Look. I really do need to
go. I know how important Langley’s career is. I do. And maybe it makes me a selfish fuck for wanting to
be just as important or maybe even just a hair above. So be it. I’m going through hell, and I want my
wife.” A wry laugh slipped free. “But I guess that won’t matter in a few weeks, anyway, as she so aptly
reminded me.”
“Axel…” Faith’s voice dripped with pity.
“Gotta go.”
I hung up the phone, ran a hand down my face, and pulled my shit together. Then I walked out to
where the little boy looked up at me with big blue eyes, reminding me so much of Tage that I choked up a
little. “Hey, big man.”
“Are you Axel Nyström?” he asked, his eyes lighting with nervous hope.
“Sure am.” I offered him a smile and dropped to my haunches, already mourning the fact that I’d never
get to have kids with the one woman I’d thought fierce enough to mother my undoubtedly unruly
offspring.
“Wow. Would you sign my magazine? My brother will never believe that I saw you.”
“Sure.” I took his ESPN and signed the cover. “Now you have proof.” After handing it over, I ruffled the
boy’s hair.
“Thank you!” He stared at the magazine and then grinned up at me. “When I grow up, I’m going to be
just like you. I’m going to play in the NHL.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked as he started to back up into a room that obviously belonged to his mother, given
the way she was looking at him. So much love.
“Yeah!”
“Sounds good. But don’t be just like me. Be better.” I gave him a wave and made my way back toward
Tage’s room.
Five members of his team were waiting outside his door, and they all stood a little straighter as I
approached.
“Gentlemen?” I asked.
The blondest one got a little shove from his friends, and he stumbled forward only to swallow. “Mr.
Nyström?”
“Yes, William?” I folded my arms over my chest.
“You remember?” He blinked quickly.
“You’re a rookie like Tage, and his roommate with these other guys, so yes, I remember your name. I
remember all of your names.” I looked at them individually.
“Right. Okay. So we’re going to take Tage home when he’s released tomorrow.” He nodded with his
eyes locked on mine.
“You are?” I questioned, tilting my head as I looked him over.
“He’s our teammate. He’s our family. We know you can’t stay and doc said he can’t fly, so we’ll take
care of him.”
The rest of the group all nodded and stated their own agreement.
“And when you have away games?” I questioned.
The one in the back lifted up the same pamphlet I’d been given. “We’ve already given the nurses our
schedule, and they’ll be there when we can’t. At least until he’s back on his feet. Besides, you know Tage.
He’ll be back on the ice before summer.”
They all murmured their assent.
A slow smile spread across my face. “Yeah, I know Tage.” This team was just as much a family as ours
was back in Charleston. A tiny worm of understanding wiggled its way into my brain. Langley had chosen
my family, just not the one I had by blood. These guys wouldn’t just look after him, they’d push him the
way teammates did. They’d haul his ass out of bed and force him to PT just like they did for each other
every day of practice.
They’d give him a reason to try for the impossible.
They were his family, too.
“Okay, boys. I’ll agree to you taking Tage home on one condition.”
“Anything,” William said quickly.
“I pay all of Tage’s expenses, no arguments.”
They grumbled but agreed.
“Also, no fucking the nurses. He needs dependable help, and you guys breaking hearts isn’t going to
help Tage. Keep it in your pants, or I’ll make sure they only send the ones over sixty.”
They all glanced at each other before begrudgingly agreeing.
I let them in and watched with a smile as they made Tage laugh for a solid hour. When he showed signs
of wearing out, I told them to head home, then stayed with Tage long after he fell asleep.
Before I headed out to shower and get a fresh set of clothing, I bent over my brother’s bed and pressed
a kiss to his forehead like he was five again. And just like the night our parents died, I whispered, “You’re
going to be all right, Tage.”
Langley didn’t love me. Langley was never going to prioritize me. Chances were she never would. I
thought it would be different when it came to family. And if we had kids? Well, we weren’t having them, so
it didn’t matter.
I was holding onto a woman who wasn’t just letting go...she’d never shown up in the first place. And
that was on me. I’d forced her into the marriage to keep her career, so how could I be shocked when she
chose that career over the marriage she never wanted?
How the hell could I be mad at her for doing what she’d always sworn she would do?
She’d told me who she was point blank, never hidden it from me, and I’d been so in love with her that
I’d only seen what I wanted to. She cared about me. I loved her.
Just like the docs had told me that it was best to get both surgeries done so the healing could begin, it
was time to make a cut of my own.
But I wasn’t sure I’d ever heal, and that would have to be okay because Langley would be free and
happy.
And me? Well, I’d be a Reaper, at least until I waived my no movement clause and begged for a trade.
The deadline wasn’t for another month, not that Silas would willingly trade me. Still, I’d have to try.
Letting her go? Yeah, I could maybe do that.
Seeing her every day? No fucking way.
Even I wasn’t that strong.
 18
LANGLEY

T
wenty-three minutes.
It’d been twenty-three minutes since Cannon Price had walked through my office door, sat in
the vacant chair across my desk, and not said a single word to me.
He clearly didn’t know who he was dealing with.
It had been five long, miserable days since Axel had walked out that same door—stormed out. Had
sliced and shredded my insides with his words...not that I didn’t deserve it. But I’d thought he’d known
me better than that. Known that if I could be in that hospital in Sweden with him, I would. If I would’ve
wrapped this shit up four days ago, I would’ve been on Lukas’ jet in a heartbeat.
But here I was.
Five days later. Five days since Cannon had punched a ref after the game outside the locker room and
we still didn’t know why. Five days since I’d calmed the League down with the security footage and
convinced them not to take action, their final decision having been made today. I’d call Lukas after this
meeting, see what Axel’s plans were. If he intended to stay longer, I would hop that jet.
I missed Axel like I never thought possible.
But I didn’t want to bother him while he was dealing with the surgery and worrying about his brother,
and I’m sure he didn’t call because, well, because he was so busy taking care of Tage.
Lukas, thank God, was my source for all things Sweden. Axel’s brother had a brief scare, but was
healing nicely and already headed home with his roommates and an army of trained nurses that Axel had
undoubtedly paid for.
I wished I could hold him. Inhale his scent and tell him how damn sorry I was.
My cell vibrated on my desk, and I hurried to scoop it up, my heart racing with hope...only to deflate.
It wasn’t Axel.
Asher Silas: Have you put out an all-call for applicants for the head position of my charitable
foundations, yet?
Me: Already done. I’ll be digging through the two-thousand applications we’ve received this week.
Then I will narrow down for actual interviews.
Asher Silas: Good work. It’s imperative this person work well with the Reapers while also
representing us properly in the Charleston community.
Me: I’ll select the perfect one.
Asher Silas: I have no doubt.
I slid my cell back on my desk, filing that task away for later. Right now...
I stared at Cannon, who continued to look either down at the floor or at the artwork adorning my walls.
One piece was a print I’d seen on our many—some blurry from alcohol—escapades in Sweden the first
time Lukas took us over there.
Funny, I’d purchased it when I’d gotten home, the swirls of ink reminding me of a time that should’ve
been miserable due to my breakup, but ended up being incredible because of Axel, and we hadn’t even
been an item then. Is that what true love was? A fierce friendship that blazed so hot it couldn’t help but
burn?
My brain worked and swarmed, trying like hell to come up with a solution to prove to Axel that I cared
about him more than I could put into words. That if it had been any other time—hell, any other situation—
I would’ve handed it off to Faith and ran with him to Sweden. Anything other than a League incident. With
the Reapers being so new, Gage and my jobs weren’t the only ones who would go under scrutiny if the
League had filed for action. Thank God I’d known what I was doing when I calmed them down. But it had
taken until today for them to give me a fucking ruling.
Twenty-six minutes.
Cannon Price was good.
I was better.
I’d handled the stubborn Seattle Sharks for years. I had plenty of practice in waiting out alpha males
who didn’t want to talk.
On their own terms and on their own time.
Always.
Thirty-one minutes.
A knock sounded at the door before Faith came trotting in with two glasses of ice water. She was
learning. The best apprentice I ever had. A few more months and I’d actually be able to delegate to her.
Not that she wasn’t ready now. She was. More than. But me? I needed time to adjust to the idea that I
didn’t have to handle everything on my own. Something that Axel had helped me realize.
 “Did you want something else, Cannon?” Faith asked, her voice soft and timid like he may blow at any
second.
“No, thank you, Faith,” he said, his words kind and calm, shocking the hell out of us both if Faith’s
surprised look was any indication.
“Okay, let me know if you need anything, Langley.” Faith flashed me a sympathetic glance before
closing my office door.
I took a sip of my water, watching him do the same.
We both set our glasses down and continued the silent battle.
Crickets would have a hell of a party if they could make it up here.
I wondered if he’d open up to Axel—his Captain—if he’d been here. Axel had a way of seeing through
all the surface walls people built around themselves and tearing them down brick by brick. Except with
me. He’d gently removed each brick, lovingly stroking me to get those walls to loosen. Fucking hell, I
needed him. I needed to tell him everything that was bleeding out of my heart.
Cannon shifted in his seat, drawing my attention. The white T-shirt he wore stretched tightly over the
rock-hard muscle beneath. And the shirt was thin enough that I could almost make out all the tattoos
covering his body—his entire upper half from the look of the black whorls and patterns. His muscled arms
were covered in black with splashes of color depending on the piece of design, and I knew from seeing
him at Scythe that the ink traveled up the back of his neck and base of his skull, too. Funny, when the
man was in his Reapers’ gear, you’d never be able to see the art decorating him. Couldn’t see that each
piece had been a choice—for what reasoning, I’d likely never know. I pitied whatever woman would be the
one to decipher the ink—and break down the iron walls—he kept around himself.
Thirty-eight minutes.
“I have practice.”
It took all my years of professional experience not to breathe a sigh of relief at his words. Instead, I
nodded. “In fifteen minutes,” I answered.
“Want to get this over with?” he asked, not as sharp as I would’ve guessed.
“Absolutely.” I waited, despite my soul dying to finish this meeting and figure out if I needed to jump on
a plane or break speed limits to get home. Axel was the best thing that ever happened to me. I needed
him to know. I needed to fix this.
“Well?” Price’s eyes were hard, unshakeable.
“Well, what?” I asked, my tone soft. Calm. Easy. This wasn’t an attack. He was my player as much as
he was Gage’s. I wanted to know him so I could help him.
Cannon raised those inked arms before resting them on the armrests again. “You called this meeting.”
“I did,” I said. “Why do you think you’re here?”
A muscle in his jaw flexed. So much anger brewing beneath his skin. Not a fresh wave, but an old
anger, like it’d been forged over so many years that now it was always with him. A constant molten heat
just shy of surface level and—from his reputation—easily triggered.
“You probably wanted to chew me out like coach.”
I tilted my head. “Is that what Gage did?”
Cannon shrugged. “Not like my last coach, no.”
“Like what, then?”
Cannon leaned further back in his seat. “Lecture was more like it. Like he’s my dad or some shit.”
I bit back my smile. Sounded like Gage.
“He’s a great coach.”
Cannon moved his head, almost like he was going to nod in agreement but caught himself.
“I didn’t ask you here to chew you out.”
“No?” He smirked. “Then what?” He motioned to the room. “You wanted to meditate?”
I laughed. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Haven’t been doing much of that this past half hour.”
“I wanted to wait until you were ready.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not going to happen.”
I reached for my glass again, raising it toward him. “And yet here we are, talking.”
He planted me with a look that screamed how unamused he was.
“Is it so bad that I want your side of the story?” I set my glass down after another sip.
He scoffed. “You’ve already decided the story. Just like everyone else.”
I arched a brow at him. “Don’t presume to know me, Cannon,” I said, a little sharper than before. “You
don’t get to make assumptions about me until you’ve earned it. You haven’t made an effort to know me.
I’m making one to know you now. And, in my gut, I know you didn’t punch out a ref for funsies.”
He sucked his teeth. “What makes you say that?”
I took a deep breath, begging the hockey gods for patience. “You’re smarter than that.”
Surprise colored those dark eyes.
“I’ve read your file, Cannon,” I said. “Sure, you’ve got an attitude, but who doesn’t? You’ve always
made smart choices when it comes to your career. Punching a ref? That’s a dumb choice. Even if it was
after the game, post-locker-room shop-talk.” I leaned forward, holding his gaze. “So, that leads me to
believe it was provoked. A reactive choice, not a thoughtful one.” I leaned back in my seat, the ball now in
his court.
He studied me for a good long minute before the tension in his shoulders dropped, just a fraction. He
glanced down at his hands, at the ink decorated there.
 “I have a baby sister,” he said, then laughed to himself. “Well, she isn’t a baby anymore. She’s only a
year younger than me. But she’s…” He cleared his throat. “Anyway. Ref was her ex.”
A piece of the puzzle clicked together, but I waited, patient, silent, as he kept staring at the ink over
his knuckles, as if he could see the blood he’d drawn with them.
“He left her when she accidentally got pregnant.”
I sucked in a sharp breath.
“And she miscarried.” His words were barely a whisper. “When he spotted me, he had the nerve to act
like he knew me. Act like I would bother to speak to him. When I called him out on being a coward for
leaving my sister once she was pregnant…” Rage flickered in his eyes, and he clenched his hands into
fists. “He said it didn’t matter anyway. Said he’d sent her a check to ensure that there was no baby.”
Tears stung the backs of my eyes, but I cleared them away. This was my office. This was my player. I
couldn’t be emotional in this space.
Didn’t stop me from hissing, “Asshole.”
Cannon breathed out, long and slow, before uncurling his fingers from the fists they’d been in.
“I’m surprised you left him intact,” I said, shaking my head.
There. The smallest, tiniest hint of a smile. So fast I could’ve imagined it.
“And you didn’t tell anyone this,” I continued. “Because you didn’t want your sister’s name involved.”
He pressed his lips together, nodding. “Still don’t,” he finally admitted.
I waved him off. “Don’t worry about that. I’m damn good at my job. If you tell me your sister is off
limits, I make that happen. But you have to tell me these things or I don’t know how to protect you.”
He cocked a brow at me, amusement lighting up his eyes like he thought the idea of me protecting him
was comical.
“Now,” I said, ignoring the laughter in his eyes. “I pulled the security footage from the location of the
incident and gathered enough evidence to show that the ref poked you in the chest.”
Cannon furrowed his brow like he didn’t remember that part.
“Yes, he did,” I said. “I’ve shown it to the League and explained your reaction was one of self-defense.”
He pursed his lips as if to say really?
“The footage clearly shows you walking out of the locker room, calm and collected, before he singled
you out in the altercation.”
“Wow.”
I nodded. “They called me a few minutes before you came in here,” I said. “Explaining their decision to
not seek charges or an investigation of the matter as it was clearly a provoked incident from the ref’s
side. He is now suspended, and after the story you told me, one call will find him unable to secure another
ref position this season.”
“Damn,” Cannon said. “Wait, you knew they’d dropped the investigation before I came in here?”
“Yep.”
“And you let me sit here in silence for over half an hour?”
“Uh huh.” I raised my palms at him. “I work for you as much as I work for Gage, Cannon. You’ve got to
talk to me. Trust me. I’m here to help you in whatever way I can. And now I know how important your
sister is to you. I’ll be able to ensure she stays out of the media.”
Another hint of a smile, but not quite. “You are good.”
“Oh, I’m the best.” So good I couldn’t relinquish control and fly to Sweden when my husband needed
me. Fucking hell, I needed to talk to Axel. Every single time I thought about him another chunk of my
heart broke off.
“Can I go to practice now?”
I smirked. “Yes.”
He rose from the chair, the bulk and height of him filling the room. Didn’t matter how many NHL
players I’d worked with over the years, I was always surprised by their sheer size and dedication to
keeping their bodies in top physical condition.
“Do me a solid and try not to pick a fight today, will you?” I said as he reached the door, a slight tease
in my tone.
He huffed but nodded as he opened the door. He paused in the entryway, glancing over his shoulder.
“Thanks,” he said, the word gruff, as if he didn’t have practice in saying it.
“It’s my job,” I said.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not for that. I mean, yes for that, but…” That muscle ticked in his jaw
again. “For not believing that I unleashed on that asshole for…for fun.”
“I’ll always be here for the true story, Cannon. Gage too. Never forget that.”
He blinked, those walls reinforcing around his eyes. Conversation clearly over.
Over, but settled.
Something inside me sighed at the accomplishment.
And pain rippled through me as I realized I only wanted to unwind with one person after this never-
ending week, but I wasn’t sure if he’d even want to speak to me after what had happened.

“Y OU ’ RE BACK !” I shut the door behind me, quickly petting Slytherin and Hufflepuff as I hurried farther
into the house. I’d just caught sight of Axel’s back as he’d turned down the hallway that led to the stairs.
Lukas had told me after my meeting with Cannon that Axel had already landed, something that both
excited and terrified me. “I’ve been dying to talk to you,” I said before I’d cleared the corner. “Axel, you
need to know...I’m so—”
I halted when I cleared the kitchen, noting the array of boxes piled in the dining room. A weight sank
on top of my chest.
“Axel?”
He came out of our bedroom, hefting another huge box in his arms. He made his way down the stairs
and set it on top of another one in the dining room.
“Axel, what’s going on?”
“What do you think?” he grumbled.
“Are you…do you have to go back to Sweden? I thought your brother was recovering well. Lukas said
—”
“So you could speak to Lukas regarding my family, but not bother trying to talk to me? Too busy, huh?”
I gaped at him. “You’re not going to let me explain?”
“There is nothing to explain,” he said, his voice like liquid ice. “This was never more than a contract to
you. One where you got guilt-free sex and got your boss the Reaper he wanted. Good job, Langley.”
A broken sound ripped from my lips, and he flinched.
“You know that isn’t true!”
“Do I?” He was shaking, all the muscles in his body coiling and trembling. “You’ve never said it. Never
said you loved me. Hell, I don’t think you’ve ever told me you liked me.”
“I…Axel, please.” The words were choked, my head spinning. His harsh words slicing through me like
the sharpest blade. “You know me.”
“I thought I did.” He raked his fingers through his long hair, his eyes lingering on mine for a breath.
“I’ll send someone for these boxes,” he said, kneeling down to pet Slytherin and Hufflepuff, who pounced
at his ankles. “The divorce papers are on the counter. You’re free.” He stood, sparing me one broken
glance before walking through the house.
“Axel, please,” I begged, tears choking my words. “Please.”
The front door opened and shut.
I heard his car start and roar down the street.
Then silence.
My hand flew to my chest like I could stop my heart from shattering.
 19
AXEL

P
orter shot the puck up the boards just before the Hurricane’s wing got to him. Two left in the third
period, and we were tied.
This one wasn’t about the record. Despite the losses we’d suffered while both Cannon and I
were out, we’d clawed our way back into first place in our division and second in the conference. No, this
was about pride.
And I’d lost enough in the last three weeks. I wasn’t losing this game.
Every ref call had gone against us in the three weeks since Cannon decked one of their own, and there
was nothing I could do to change their minds out there on the ice. Good thing no one but me, Porter, and
Noble—the assistant captains—were allowed to talk to the refs, because I had a feeling the refs wouldn’t
just talk to Cannon Price.
I switched directions, my legs pumping to carry me across the ice. Cannon caught the puck and shot
forward, evading the Hurricane center as he crossed over the blue line. The defender came at him, and he
flicked the puck over to me.
I made contact on my stick and took it straight for their goalie. In my peripherals, I saw both Lukas
and Cannon covered by defenders and figured I had only seconds before their center caught up to me.
Faking, I threw my weight—and the goalie—to the right, only to deke and shoot stick-side off my
backhand. It hit the back of the net and the lamp lit.
I threw up my hands, pumping my fist as Lukas tackled me with a hug. On the line change, I tapped
the quarter-sized area just behind my shoulder, where Tage’s number had been embroidered by the
Reaper staff. I’d keep it there, mostly hidden by my hair, until my brother was back on the ice, carrying
him on my back just like I’d promised.
As I hit the bench for the line change, I glanced toward the family box, where the Reaper wives and
kids stood cheering. Naturally, Langley wasn’t in there. She’d be behind the scenes, making sure
everything ran smoothly. Half the time I never knew if she even saw me skate.
But it wasn’t like I watched her handle the media, so I couldn’t really get offended.
Not that I had anything to be offended about now, anyway. As of tomorrow, we’d be divorced. At least
once she signed the papers, we would be.
She’d be free to pursue her dreams.
And I’d already lived mine.
The buzzer sounded, and I went through the motions of the victory, but it didn’t taste as sweet as it
had before when I had Langley waiting for me.
I hit the showers, packed up my bag, and headed for the press room to do the post-game interviews.
This was one piece of being captain that I could live without.
“Are you ready?” Faith asked, hand on the door.
“Let’s get this over with.” I walked through the door and was immediately assaulted with bright lights
of the press corp.
A bottle of water entered my path, held by a hand I knew too well. My fingers grazed Langley’s,
sending a shock of electricity through my nerve endings. Guess my body hadn’t figured out that wasn’t
happening ever again. I’d seen her at every game for the last two weeks, but that was all. It felt like a
knife in my chest every time we ran into each other at the rink, but I’d successfully avoided her for the
most part, even sleeping next door in Lukas’ guest room. The pain would eventually fade. At least that
was the lie I told myself over and over.
“Thank you,” I told her, meeting her eyes because I wasn’t an asshole.
“Can we talk after?” she asked quietly, her eyes full of an emotion I couldn’t—or wouldn’t—name.
Talk to her? Could I talk to her? About what? About the fact that I was madly, foolishly, pathetically in
love with a woman who didn’t feel the same? About the papers waiting to be filed? About the press fallout
once we both took off our wedding rings?
One conversation and I’d break my resolve to free her and fall at her feet. I’d crawl across the fucking
floor and beg her to stay, plea with her to love me.
I shook my head slightly, and she released the bottle with a slight flinch, but her features were quickly
schooled. Langley would never let her emotions be seen by the press, but rather seeing her as cold, I
admired the shit out of her for it at this moment.
She had the strength and honor to keep our private shit private.
I climbed up the three stairs to the dais and sat in front of the Reaper banner as Gage took the seat
beside me. After the Cannon scandal, he sat beside every player who was called for the post-game
interviews, making sure he took the heavy questions we didn’t have answers for.
 He took the first one, which had been about line changes during the first period.
Truth was, Thurston was experiencing pain in his shoulder that wouldn’t quit, which meant our
defenders had to cover him glove-side. The Reaper statement? We were changing up our defensive lines
in advance of the upcoming playoff season which was due to start in less than six weeks.
Something about seeing Langley didn’t just have me on edge but struck me as odd, though I couldn’t
put my finger on it. I glanced her way more than once, but she was never looking toward me. Her head
was usually bowed with Faith, or she was looking over the press corp.
“Axel, how is your brother?” a young, blonde reporter asked from the second row.
I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on the table. “He’s doing well, thank you. Took his first unaided
steps yesterday as a matter of fact.” I only had to half-force a smile, since I was genuinely happy he was
up and almost walking, but still numbed out from my relationship.
Her eyes darted to Langley and back to me, taking on a predatory sheen that made me want to stand
in front of my wife. She might only be my wife for the next twenty-four hours, but she was still mine now.
Wait. What was she wearing? I glanced back to Langley to see that she’d ditched her usual suit coat
and was wearing tailored pants, her black fuck-me heels that I wouldn’t be fucking her in, and a snug fit,
black Reaper jacket with our logo embroidered just above her heart.
“Is it true that while you raced to your brother’s side, your wife stayed behind?” The reporter’s eyes
narrowed.
If my wife could murder people with an eyebrow raise, that chick would be dead. She stepped away
from the wall to fully face the press, and as her back turned, my eyes flared. She had Nyström across the
back of her shoulders and my jersey number on her back.
Okay, that twisted up my insides into fucking knots. Guess she was going all out for our last hurrah,
but she’d never been big on claiming our marriage publically. On paper, sure. PDA? Okay. But that was
about as close as I was going to ever get to having my name tattooed across her gorgeous ass and it sent
a primal feeling of mine straight to my dick.
She didn’t look over at me, just stared at the reporter.
Langley didn’t need to look over to see if I’d protect her. She knew I would.
“My wife,” I said into the microphone and leaned in further so my forearms rested on their sides, right
where the light hit the black diamonds in my wedding ring. This girl wouldn’t get a piece of Langley. Not
now. Not ever. “Is an important member of the Reaper staff.”
“So would you say she’s more career-than-family oriented? And if so, how does that affect your on-ice
performance when you lack support at home?”
That got her a head tilt from Langley and more than a few side-eyes from her fellow reporters.
“I’m sorry, what magazine are you from?” Gage asked.
I moved my hand so he’d know I had this covered.
“Oh!” She preened. “I’m from Charleston Chatter. Our readers just love you.” She laid on the drawl
and winked. Fucking winked.
It was a gossip rag I’d seen in the checkout stands, but I knew from Langley’s dinnertime vent sessions
that they had an online following and were pushing the Reapers hard as the newest celebrity obsession.
Personally, I liked being left alone.
“Right, so usually I’d tell you to mind your own business,” I said with a smile, throwing her off balance.
“But I don’t like what you’re insinuating, so I’ll go ahead and address it. I’m married to a woman who
values hard work, and that means her own as well. My brother’s injury coincided with something you
guys like to talk about a lot and rhymes with Pannon Crice.” The press core rumbled with muffled
laughter. “Not only did Mrs. Langley Pierce-Nyström,” I emphasized every word in her name, “who
happens to be the head of public relations for the Reapers, have to handle some very irate officials and
very interested reporters,” that one earned me another chuckle, “she was also setting up a massive open
call to find a new head of the Reapers Charitable Foundation, which is set to begin tomorrow and go
through the week given that she’s had to screen over two thousand applicants before they could even
move onto the interview stage. After all, we need to give Asher Silas something to do with those billions,
right?”
The reporter pursed her lips, and hands shot into the air, all wanting the next question, but I wasn’t
finished with Ms. Charleston Chatter.
“So if you’re insinuating that my wife chose to stay home so she could get a manicure, then I’m
insulted, and the answer is no. She stayed here, where our Reaper family was in crisis, because she
knows her worth and that she is irreplaceable. No one could have handled that situation as well as she
did.” Logically, I’d always known that. Langley was the best at what she did, just like I was. We were so
well-matched in that regard. It didn’t mean I wasn’t still hurt, angry, and heartbroken that I wasn’t on her
priority list, but I’d never let someone attack her job performance.
“I didn’t mean to insult you,” she drawled with a smile that might have fooled a less-intelligent man.
“When you come at my wife, you come at me,” I told her. “And as for the rest of your questions
regarding my marriage and personal life? That’s none of your damned business.”
She paled but forced a shaky smile and nod.
“You know what is your business? There are now thirty-three teams in the National Hockey League. Do
you know how many women sit in the front office as the head of communications and public relations like
Mrs. Pierce-Nyström does?” She blinked at me. “No? Let me help you: four. In fact, the moment she left
the Seattle Sharks, Mrs. Pierce-Nyström was replaced by a man. Four women to twenty-nine men. You
know how I found those numbers out?”
 She shook her head, and her eyes darted to the other reporters quickly before she dragged them back
to mine with more than a little indignation.
“I looked them up online.” I shrugged. “Never once did my wife tell me how hard it is to be a woman in
this industry, or that she was a rarity. She simply did her job, like the team, the front office, and the fans
expect her to. She did her job like I needed her to. But here’s the biggest question, Ms….” I leaned
forward.
“Whitmore,” she finally offered.
“Ms. Whitmore, would you have questioned the family integrity of any of those twenty-nine men if they
chose to tend to the raging dumpster fire the Reapers were in with the league instead of sitting by their
brother-in-law’s bedside for a non-life-threatening injury?”
She paled.
“Right. You would have focused on how competent and professional they were. But because she’s a
woman married to a Reaper, you think she’s fair game, and she’s not. And by the way, I sure as hell
haven’t fielded a single question on why I chose to miss three games—games that resulted in losses—
because I chose not to do my job. If you want to question my on-ice performance, look at my choices, not
my wife’s.”
The room sat silently for a few seconds, and I saw Gage’s mouth quirk upward.
Then hands raised with voices as a new round of questions flew at me. I stood and left the dais without
another word. Langley met me at the bottom of the steps with wide, searching eyes.
“And you thought Cannon was a PR nightmare,” I joked with a smirk. Then I walked out of the press
room and headed down the tunnel to where the bus would be waiting.
“Axel!” Langley shouted.
I turned, tucking my hands into my dress pants pockets as she hurried toward me.
“Did you mean it?” she asked, looking up at me with something I wouldn’t dare call hope. Been there,
done that, and not going back.
“Mean what?” I asked, my voice dropping with a rough edge. I needed to get the fuck away from her
before I did something incredibly stupid like kiss her. I’d made enough of an ass of myself these last six
months without breaking down in front of the Reaper bus and begging my wife to love me.
“What you said in there,” she said quietly like she’d just noticed we were still in public.
I took in the curve of her face and shadows beneath her eyes. “Yeah. Every word. You’re amazing at
your job, Langley. Always have been. The Reapers are damn lucky to have you. Look. I just...I can’t do this
with you. Not here. Not now.”
Before I lost what was left of my dignity and self-control, I got on the bus and sat next to Price. At least
I knew he wouldn't be interested in talking, and there was no room for my wife to force me into a
conversation that wouldn’t end well for either of us.
Tomorrow we’d divorce.
I’d slice myself open and let my heart bleed out.
Then I’d start the business of stitching myself up and healing whatever was left.
 20
LANGLEY

E
very word.
Axel’s voice echoed inside my head as I buckled myself into the seat on the plane.
The way he’d handled that reporter…
When she’d fired that ridiculous question about where my true support lied, a small, broken part of me
thought Axel might rip me to shreds. He’d certainly done so that night he’d moved out. Not that he didn’t
have the grounds to do it, after everything. But the bigger part of my heart knew he wouldn’t. Knew he’d
never throw me to the wolves. He wasn’t that kind of man.
Two weeks.
Two miserable, awful weeks.
Sure, I’d never been sharper, stronger, or more respected in my field after handling the ref incident,
but the success was…empty.
Even with Silas handing me the beyond important task of hiring the perfect candidate to head up his
charitable foundations—his billions of dollars—it felt hollow. It was an incredible honor and responsibility,
but with the way my heart had been broken, it was all just noise. Two-thousand worth of applicants’ noise,
and tomorrow I’d have to start the real work—interviewing the one-hundred applicants that had made the
cut. This person had to be smart, compassionate, keen, and firmly rooted in Charleston. The person
needed to mesh well with the Reapers since they’d be representing our family in the world beyond the
rink.
I pinched my nose, a headache forming between my eyes.
I wanted to talk to Axel.
I wanted to tell him all the things that had festered in my soul these past weeks.
But he wouldn’t give me a chance.
Maybe because he didn’t want to. Maybe he wanted the clean break, just like we’d originally planned.
But I hadn’t planned on how deeply I’d fallen for him.
A glass of ice tinkled next to me, and I opened my eyes.
Faith had taken her seat next to me, two small glasses of whiskey in her hands.
“That may have been the most interesting press conference I’ve ever seen,” she said, handing me one
of the glasses.
I huffed and took a sip, the sweet burn of the cool liquor going to work on the headache.
“Thanks for this,” I said, tapping my glass against hers.
“Figured you’d need it.” She eyed me expectantly.
“What?”
“Did you talk?”
I shook my head. “He…wouldn’t hear me out. Wouldn’t give me the time.”
Faith sighed, those eyes still focused on mine. Still waiting.
I raised my brows at her. What more did she want from me?
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Langley, what the fuck are you thinking?”
I jolted in my seat, shocked at how her soft voice had managed to scold me so thoroughly on the quiet
plane.
“Excuse me?”
She set her drink down. “You have to try harder.”
I ground my teeth for a second. “I’ve been trying, Faith.” I hated how broken my voice sounded. “I’ve
tried to speak to him. Tried to explain—”
“At the arena,” she cut me off. “Or at away games.”
“Well, I can’t exactly stomp across the yard, kick your door down, and force him to spend time with
me.” Despite how often I’d thought on that insane plan. He’d been staying in Lukas and Faith’s guestroom
—so close to home and yet still untouchable. Unreachable.
“You could—”
“He left the divorce papers on the counter when he moved out,” I interrupted her. “I’ve been carrying
the stupid things around in my bag for days. Refusing to acknowledge them because it hurts too damn
much. I fucked up. I know I did. But, damn it, Faith, I was trying to take care of our family. Here. Trying to
ensure he had a Reaper family to come home to. If I would’ve known what that would do to our
relationship…” I sighed. “I would’ve handed the dumpster fire over to you and walked you through it over
the phone. I didn’t know. I didn’t understand.”
Faith pressed her lips together, content to listen.
“And it didn’t matter anyway, right?” I chuckled a bit hysterically, tears already forming in my eyes. At
least here, on the plane, with my best friend, I could let my emotions slip, just a fraction. “He never made
plans with me beyond the divorce date. It was always me making plans for his league in the summer.
Making vacation plans even further after that. And yet, he never brought up postponing the divorce.
Never even broached the subject. He could say he loved me as many times as he wanted, but he never
once told me we’d shred the papers and stay together.” I sucked in a sharp breath. “If he’d wanted that,
he would’ve told me. He’s never been the one to not go after what he wants.” I swiped the tears off my
cheeks, hating that I couldn’t control them, not when it came to Axel.
“Langley,” Faith said, her voice calm, soft. “Did you ever think he didn’t tell you that because he didn’t
want to scare you away? You couldn’t tell him you loved him—”
“I tried to show him. I needed…needed more time. Because what would happen if I told him the truth,
and we ended up here anyway? It would break me.”
“It’s already broken you,” Faith said.
I leaned my head back against the seat. There were few people who could see through the mask I’d
worn for the past two weeks, but Faith was certainly one of them. She knew how hollow I’d become,
worse than when my ex-fiancé had hurt me before. And maybe that was the key, the answer. It had hurt,
sure, when he’d made me choose. But, this? With Axel, it was like a piece of my soul was missing. Like
half of me would constantly bleed out, and the only way I could heal would be to regain that missing piece
of myself. This, this was true heartbreak.
“You really have the papers in your bag?” Faith asked after I’d been lost in my head too long.
I nodded.
“Can I see them?”
I tilted my head. “What, you think you’ll find a loophole?” My laugh was broken, jagged, as I dug into
my bag and placed the papers in her hand.
She scanned the words, flipping from one page to the next, her eyes flickering from the pages to me
and back again. “You haven’t read these.”
“I read them the day before our wedding,” I said. “I know the jargon. The legality of it. We decided on
it all together.” Just another example of why we were a perfect match, even our divorce papers had been
orchestrated as a team.
“Langley,” Faith said. “You really should’ve looked at these.” She pushed the papers back into my
hands, flipped open to a specific page.
“Why?” I took the papers, still focused on Faith.
“Look.”
I gave my friend a glance that clearly showed I was debating her sanity, but I looked down. Then back
to her, and down again. My heart rate sped, a rapid beat in my chest like it was trying to restart from the
dormant state it’d been in since Axel had walked out our door.
“He didn’t sign them.” The words were a broken whisper.
“He didn’t sign them,” Faith echoed, her voice much stronger than mine.
Hope bloomed in my chest, in that aching, hollow spot inside me.
“Why wouldn’t he sign them?” I asked. “He told me they were on the counter. He told me to sign them,
and we’d be done.” I sucked in a sharp breath, my eyes locking with Faith’s.
“Maybe he’s not done,” she spoke the words I couldn’t dare say.
“But,” I said, still staring at those empty lines where Axel’s signature should be. “He won’t talk to me.
He won’t—”
“He’s hurting, Langley,” Faith said. “Just like you. He needs more than a talk. He needs to see that you
love him as much as he loves you.”
I arched a brow at her. “Telling him should make that very clear.”
Faith gave me a pitying look. “I love you, Langley, but you’ve never been the most romantic person.”
“Romantic.”
“Yes,” she said, laughing softly. “You need to show him.”
I blinked at her.
“You remember when Echo convinced you to take your husband on an actual date?”
Light clicked behind my eyes. “Omigod,” I said, the realization dawning on me so hard I facepalmed
myself. Of course, Axel didn’t want to talk to me. He was afraid I would say the right words but wouldn’t
follow it up. Afraid I’d always put him on the sidelines when he should be on the priority list. Afraid that I
might say I loved him to keep him, but not prove to him with every ounce in my being that I undoubtedly
felt the same way for him.
“I feel like an idiot.”
“You’re not,” Faith said. “You just don’t always think with your heart. It scares you.”
“It does.” I chewed on my lip, a wild, insane plan forming rapidly in my mind.
There was only one way.
One way to show him.
To prove to him how much he meant to me.
“Faith,” I said, gripping her hand. “I need your help.”
“Anything,” she responded immediately, and I loved her even more in that moment.

T HE NEXT DAY , my fingers trembled on my cell as I texted Axel.

 Me: The girl I hired to feed the cats while I’m interviewing candidates fell through, could you please
go check on them?
Axel: Can’t you ask Harper?
Me: Everyone else is busy.
Me: Please?
Axel: Be there in ten.
I blew out a breath, part relief and part pure terror.
I’d spent the rest of the flight yesterday, and the better part of the night, preparing Faith. Making sure
she knew exactly what to do, who to look for, the red flags to note.
Silas would be furious, or he wouldn’t.
I didn’t care.
What I did care about was headed home.
And this was the only shot I had.

T EN MINUTES LATER , I heard Axel’s key turn in the lock, and my heart skipped, my stomach twisting with
nerves.
This was either the best decision of my life or I was about to make a complete and utter ass of myself.
The front door swung open and shut, Axel’s voice murmuring as he called for Slytherin and Hufflepuff.
He abruptly stopped when he found us—me and the cats—in the dining room.
He tilted his head. “Why aren’t you interviewing candidates to run Silas’ charitable foundations? His
billions?”
“I sent Faith.”
He cocked a brow at me, surprise coloring his eyes—they looked more green than brown today. He
opened his mouth, then quickly shut it. “You obviously can take care of the cats then. I’ll be going.” He
spun around, heading toward the door.
“Axel,” I pled, and he paused. “Please. I sent Faith because I wanted to talk to you. I need to talk to
you. Have dinner with me?” I motioned to the table behind me set with three silver domed trays.
He raked his fingers through his long hair, contemplating as Slytherin snaked through his ankles.
The blood in my veins seemed to halt as I waited for him to decide my fate. To deem me worthy of
hearing me out…or not.
“Okay,” he said, near reluctant as he took a seat, eyeing the silver domes with a curious gaze.
I exhaled, my tight chest loosening a fraction.
I lifted the lids off his plate and mine, revealing one of his favorite dishes from Sweden. I left the third
dome in the middle, covered.
“Kanelbulle?” He asked, eyeing the sweet, sticky cinnamon bun that sat in the center of his plate.
“Lukas’ mormor’s recipe,” I said, sinking into my seat. “Lukas assured me it was your favorite. It took
me four times to get the dough right. Then two more tries to nail the amount of cardamom.”
“You spoke with Lukas’ mormor?” he asked.
I nodded. “I’ve never had to negotiate so hard in my entire life. It took all but the promise of our
firstborn to get the recipe out of her. She lays claim to you as much as she does Lukas.”
“She always has,” he said, and laughed softly, gazing at the sweet roll on his plate. The comforts of his
childhood paired with a request, to allow me to be a part of his future. “She’s tough. I’ve always loved
that about her. Wait…our?” His eyes widened before dropping to my stomach. “Are you…?”
“No,” I said quickly, clenching my eyes shut at my blunder. His shoulders eased a bit, but I could’ve
sworn disappointment flashed in his eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I meant to say my first born.”
He quickly took a bite, his eyes closing as he chewed. “Incredible,” he said, forking another bite before
glancing at me. “You said you wanted to talk.”
“Right.” I blinked out of my gaze, mesmerized by the man before me. I sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ve
never been good at relinquishing control. You know that. Better than anyone. You know I’m not connected
with my family. Not for a long time. I owe it to them—my issues with control—because my childhood
wasn’t like yours. I didn’t have a supportive family. I had a dangerously chaotic one. My mother flitted
from man to man, and it ensured that she never held down a steady job. Then, she abandoned me to
chase down another love. So I lived an uncertain life, where choices were made for me, things I couldn’t
stop or change. Until I was old enough to. And that was the day I decided I’d never not be in control
again. I’ve built my career, my livelihood on this fierce control I have, this determination to be the best.
And yes, I’m damn good at my job. I love it. And when my ex, when he made me choose, I realized it
wasn’t a choice at all. He didn’t love me for me. Not really. But he put me in a bad spot. All those old fears
of being forced into situations, into choices that weren’t my own, it came rushing back.” I sighed. “And
you were there. You saw how I handled that.” I used Hufflepuff plopping on my lap as an excuse not to
look at him as I continued.
“And then you proposed to me so you could date me.” I laughed, stroking Hufflepuff’s fur to help calm
my roaring heart. “And every single day with you was better than the last. Better than any days prior to
you coming into my life, happy as I was. And I found myself falling so incredibly hard for you, that I
panicked. I was terrified of losing that control in my life. Losing that part of me that had kept me alive
and thriving all these years. Panicked that if I gave you my heart you’d have the power to crush it.”
Tears coated my eyes.
“And I was afraid of having to choose again. Between my career and you. Because I knew what my
business-self wanted, but me? My heart…I only want you. I’ve never loved anyone, Axel, the way I love
you. Unconditionally. Wild and reckless and consuming. You make me a better, stronger woman. You bring
out the best in me and have handled me at my worst. And I hate that I didn’t go to Sweden. Hate that I
was here, trying to ensure our Reaper family was safe here while you took care of our family in Sweden. I
was split in two. And I made the wrong call.” I took a deep breath.
“And I’m sorry I never said it. Never told you. Because I do love you, Axel. I love your heart, which is so
much bigger than you ever let people see. I love your mind, how calculative you can be on the ice and
how considerate you can be off of it. I love the way you are with our cats, this giant of a man being
manipulated by two balls of fluff.” I laughed a bit, the tears rolling down my cheeks. “I love the way you
make me laugh. I love when you speak to me in a language I can’t understand. I love the way you are with
your family…and I’m just…hoping that I might still have a shot at being a part of it.” I lifted the lid off the
third dish between us, revealing the divorce papers I’d shredded and placed there. “Because I want you,
Axel. Forever. And I’ll cut back on the work if that is what it takes. I sent Faith today because you were
more important than what Silas wants—”
“No, min enda kärlek,” he cut me off and suddenly he wasn’t across the table anymore but on his
knees before me, gently lifting Hufflepuff from my lap and depositing her on the floor. “I don’t want you to
stop doing what you love.” He cupped my face in his hands. “I just want you. All of you.”
Tears flowed freely, soaking his fingers as I leaned my forehead against his.
“I love you,” I said again because he deserved to hear it, to feel it until he knew how true it was.
 21
AXEL

M
orning light streamed through the windows as I quietly made my way downstairs. Langley was
still asleep, buried under a mountain of covers. I’d only been awake long enough to brush my
teeth and lament the fact that all of my clothes were next door at Lukas’s.
Unlike my wife, sleeping in wasn’t something the cats did well, so here I was at seven a.m., feeding
them breakfast as per their demand, in my boxer briefs. Once the little lionesses were fed, I started some
coffee and headed for the refrigerator. I pulled out eggs, bacon, and cheddar cheese, then shook my head
at the lack of vegetables.
Good thing I was home or Langley would have ended up eating frozen...well, everything.
I was back at the fridge, hoping to find anything that was intentionally green when I felt her hands slip
around my stomach.
“You’re up early,” she said, resting her cheek against my back.
I clasped my hand over hers and sent up yet another prayer of thanks that those papers hadn’t been
filed. “The cats told me that they’d been starved and feared that emaciation was imminent.”
She laughed and pressed a kiss to my skin. “You mean it had been twelve hours since they’d been
fed?”
“Exactly,” I answered, shutting the refrigerator and slowly turning to my wife. My wife. Last night felt
like a dream, like a self-indulgent fantasy where I was handed everything I wanted. It had been perfect—
the kind you didn’t trust in the light of day. But the sun was shining, Langley’s makeup was slightly
smudged from the night before, her hair was in a rumpled fall of silk, and her satin robe was tied
haphazardly.
She was achingly, beautifully imperfect, and real enough to feel under my hands as I cupped her
cheeks and tilted her face so I could see her eyes.
“You meant it last night?” I asked softly, scared to break the dream if that’s what this was.
“That I love you? Or that I don’t want a divorce? Or that I didn’t want you to stop doing that thing with
your tongue? Because I said a lot last night.” She flat-out smirked at me.
“I wasn’t questioning the tongue. I’m well aware of how to get you off.” I kissed her with a slow, lazy
suck at her bottom lip.
“I meant everything,” she promised as her hands flexed against my bare waist. “Did you?”
“I don’t want a divorce,” I promised her again even though I’d said the words last night. “I never
wanted one. In fact, my plan had been to marry you, then use the six months to make you so deliriously
happy that you’d never leave.” My thumb stroked the skin of her cheekbone. “I only gave you the papers
because I didn’t know you felt the same.”
“I do,” she assured me.
“I know that now.” My lips brushed her forehead. “Now why don’t you let me make you some breakfast
so you can get to the interviews.”
“No, I’m good,” she answered with a grin.
“You don’t want breakfast?” Not that I blamed her. I seriously needed to order a grocery delivery full of
things that actually had expiration dates.
“No, I do.” She laughed. “I don’t need to go to the interviews. I handed them over to Faith,
remember?”
My brow furrowed. “Right, so we could have dinner last night.” And dessert. A few times.
“I actually handed over the entire project to her. She’s running all of the interviews and making her
choice. I wanted to make sure my schedule was clear if we didn’t get everything hashed out last night. My
plan was to tie you to the bed until you agreed to keep me.” Her fingers trailed across my waist and down
the lines of my abs until she reached the waistband of my boxer briefs.
“You cleared an entire week of your schedule to seduce me into staying?” I clarified, simultaneously
intrigued and shocked.
“I did.” Her gaze fell away. “I should have done it when Tage was hurt.”
I lifted her chin with my thumb and forefinger. “Look at me.”
Slowly, her eyes met mine.
“We both made a lot of mistakes that week. We both should have called. We should have
communicated. We should have leaned on each other no matter the physical distance that separated us
instead of letting it rip us apart. We can rehash the subject until we’re blue in the face, but there will
never have been a perfect solution. All we can do is try to learn from it so it never happens again.”
She rose and kissed me softly, letting her lips linger just long enough to taste the mint of her
toothpaste. “I like that plan.”
 “I personally liked yours. Want to tell me more about this seduction you had planned?”
Her fingers slipped beneath the elastic of my waistband and skimmed the line where they rested just
above my hips. “My plan was mostly to take my clothes off and see if I could distract you that way.”
I pushed my hips against her belly, letting her feel exactly how distracted I already was. “Please,
continue.”
Her tongue swept across her lower lip, and my pulse picked up. She backed up a step, and my hands
fell from her. Then she reached for the maroon satin of her robe and pulled on the tie. “I was hoping that
once you saw skin,” the little knot she’d tied unraveled and the sides of the robe started to slide apart,
“you’d figure it out.”
With a shrug, her robe slid from her shoulders, caressed her arms as it fell, then landed in a pool at
her feet.
Holy shit, she was naked.
“I think I can handle this,” I said slowly as my eyes took in every delicious curve of her body. Fuck
breakfast, I was going to devour my wife.
She backed away, and I stalked her like a predator with its prey, just waiting for her to signal that she
was ready. Her back hit the granite of the island, and she crooked her finger at me.
In less than three steps, I had her in my arms and my tongue in her mouth. Her curves pressed up
against me, her breasts against my chest, her belly cradling my rock-hard cock. I’d had her three times
last night and still wasn’t satisfied. I wasn’t sure I ever would be.
The need to be inside her again, to take her so thoroughly she’d feel me in her soul, took hold. I
gripped the backs of her thighs and lifted her to the counter. She gasped as her ass hit the cold granite,
but she didn’t stop kissing me.
If anything, she went for me harder, tugging at my hair and kissing me deeper.
I broke the kiss only to lick and suck at her breasts, still rosy from last night’s attentions. She cried out
and arched into me. I gripped her hips and pulled her closer until her hips lined up perfectly with mine.
“Axel,” Langley moaned, rocking against me. “God, how can I want you so badly already?”
“It’s the same for me,” I admitted, running my hands up her curves as my mouth assaulted her neck.
“I’m always hard for you, no matter how many times I have you.”
Her hand snaked between us to cup my dick. I hissed as she squeezed lightly and ran her thumb over
my tip. “Lose the briefs,” she whispered in my ear, biting on my lobe gently.
“Here?” I asked, my cock twitching in her hand. Mind-numbing pleasure rocketed up my spine, and I
thrust into her grip with a groan.
“Here.” Her thumbs hooked into my waistband and tugged. “I don’t need rules when it comes to you.”
I was all too happy to drop them the rest of the way.
Our mouths met in a needy kiss that had us clutching at each other. Our hands were as needy as our
mouths, touching wherever we could reach, exchanging caress for caress.
I found her slippery and swollen between her thighs, so wet that I knew I could slide inside with ease.
My fingers thrust inside her slowly, and her head fell back as she let loose the sweetest moan I’d heard
from her lips.
My lips traced the sensitive path down her neck as I moved inside her, careful to be tender after the
ways I’d taken her last night.
“God, Axel!” She rolled her hips over me, riding my hand. I fucking loved how uninhibited she was with
me, how she chased her pleasure down and claimed it.
“Be careful,” I pled, kissing her jaw as my fingers curled inside her. “I know you have to be a little
sore.”
“I only feel pleasure,” she said with a slight whimper at the end. “Just get inside me, damn it.”
I tsked at her as I removed my fingers, only to slide them to her clit and pet her lightly. “Are you in a
hurry this morning, wife?”
“I’m always in a hurry when it means getting to fuck you,” she growled. “Axel, I swear, if you don’t get
inside me this very minute—” She moaned when I adjusted my stance so my dick trailed through her cleft,
coming to rest at her entrance.
“Was this what you wanted?” I thrust gently, slipping inside her just enough that the head of my cock
disappeared inside her. “Fuck, that’s amazing. The way you feel,” I groaned as I pushed in another inch.
“The way you clench around me.” I pulled back just to take that inch again, watching as our bodies
started to join. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. You know that right?”
“Axel…” she whimpered, gripping my shoulders. “Please, baby.”
With that plea, I thrust completely, sliding through the tight folds of her pussy until she took all of me
to the hilt. “Damn, Langley. Just...damn.” She was heaven and home all wrapped up in one incredible
woman that I somehow got to call mine.
Our foreheads rested against each other, our breaths mingled as we savored the feeling of being joined
completely. “You feel so good inside me.” Her lips grazed mine.
The angle made it easy to rock back and thrust in again, slamming home harder than I should have and
nowhere near as hard as I wanted to.
She cried out and pushed her ass closer to the edge of the counter. “Axel, please. Stop being gentle. I
need you.” Her eyes locked on mine. “I want to feel you with every step I take.”
My breath hissed out between my teeth, taking my control with it.
My fingers bit into her thighs, spreading her even wider for me, and then I gripped hard, making sure
she wouldn’t slip from the counter as I slammed home.
 “Yes!” she screamed.
I pistoned my hips into her again and again, taking her hard and deep with a rhythm that I kept steady
even when sweat beaded on my skin. She was powerless at that angle, taking only what I gave her,
accepting all of me over and over.
Our mouths met with dueling tongues, tasting of urgency and need as I pushed her closer to her
release. Her thighs trembled beneath my hands, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me
closer as she locked her ankles.
“I love you,” she whispered in my ear.
Those three words broke me like nothing else could, and I lost myself in her body, thrusting with
abandon, sliding in and out of her with deep strokes that had her muscles tensing, her breath catching. I
slid my thumb between our bodies and lightly rubbed her clit, careful with the swollen flesh.
That touch was enough. Langley came apart, screaming my name as she clenched and fluttered around
my cock, pulling my orgasm from the base of my spine and bringing me with her.
I thrust twice more as I spilled into her, letting the pleasure overtake me as I cradled her against my
chest.
Slowly, we both came down, our stuttered breaths smoothing into a more relaxed pattern as we held
onto each other. “Are you okay?” I asked.
“Mmmmm,” she mumbled, but lifted her head for a kiss.
I gave it to her, then smoothed her hair back from her face. “God, I love you.”
“Good, because I love you too.” She grinned up at me as she swirled her hips. “Man, the counters are
the perfect height.”
My grin was instant. “That they are. So what’s next for this week of seduction?”
Her nose crinkled as she thought. “I was thinking that either we could make breakfast, or we could
test out the tub. We never seem to make it there because we get distracted when we’re naked.” She lifted
her eyebrows. “After all, you don’t have ice time today.”
No ice and a naked Langley in my arms. My day was made.
“I’m only hungry for you.” Gathering her in my arms, I lifted her from the counter and carried her up
the stairs to our bedroom where we started all over again.
“This is day one,” Langley muttered hours later, spent and sleepy in our bed as I curled around her.
“Day one?”
“It’s the first day of our non-contract marriage. No rules. No deadlines—”
“No divorce,” I whispered, then kissed the skin behind her ear.
“Never,” she agreed.
Looking at her there, her skin glowing with satisfaction, her eyes drowsy and her smile soft, I knew we
were off to a fantastic start.
We’d never have to worry about choices in the future.
We’d always choose each other.
 EPILOGUE

Langley
Summer

Axel spoke in rapid Swedish, instructing the kids gathered in full hockey gear around him while I
worked from the bleachers, my laptop perched on my knees.
I hit send, sighing as I emailed another set of tasks to Faith.
I couldn’t have asked for a better partner in this business. A better friend. And I’d recently discovered
that it wasn’t so hard to delegate, to split the workload.
Balance.
Balance was my new favorite concept. Something I’d never dreamed of having, but Axel had shown me
many things I hadn’t thought possible.
My cheeks flushed thinking on some of those things he’d shown me last night.
And the one before that.
So many places I hadn’t allowed myself to be vulnerable. Exposed. Seduced.
Places only he could reach—my heart being the main one. The man claimed my heart and soul and
body like no one before. Like no one ever could. And before, that terrified me. Now?
With Axel…I’d never felt safer or more confident, more desired.
Heat churned in my core, a craving I’d never slake. He’d promised me a night swim in his newly
renovated house and infinity pool tonight—our newly renovated house, as he kept telling me. My breath
caught just thinking of seeing him gliding through the water with nothing but the moon and stars
illuminating his glorious body.
My friend.
Then my husband.
Then my…everything.
“You’re practically glowing,” Axel said, and I closed my laptop, setting it on the empty spot beside me.
I hurried down the couple steps to the edge of the rink, smiling up at him. “Who emailed you to make you
look like that?” He snaked a gloved hand around my waist, the damn half wall of the rink separating us.
I smacked his broad chest. “No one,” I said. “Was thinking about tonight.”
He smirked. “Can’t stop thinking about me wet and naked,” he said, laughing. “What a hard life you
have.”
“Cocky Viking.” I made to pull out of his embrace, but he kept me firmly locked.
“I don’t care what you call me,” he said. “As long as I’m yours.”
I bit down on my lip, reminding myself over and over that there were children skating behind him.
“Always.”
“That’s all I ever asked you for.” His gaze turned molten, and he planted the softest, most chaste kiss
over my lips before releasing me. Skating backward, I saw all the promises of our future in those hazel
eyes of his—long, steamy nights, and fun, Reaper-filled days.
An endless path of happiness.
Hard-earned and hard-won.
I’d expect nothing less from him, and I couldn’t wait to spend every second of the rest of forever with
him.
 CONNECT WITH ME!

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 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Samantha Whiskey is a wife, mom, lover of her dogs and romance novels. No stranger to hockey, hot alpha males, and a
high dose of awkwardness, she tucks herself away to write books her PTA will never know about.
 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to my incredible husband and my awesome kids without which I would live a super boring life!
Huge thanks must be paid to the amazing authors who have always offered epic advice and constant
support! Not to mention creating insanely hot reads to pass the time with!
Big shout out to A.H. for making this shine. And thank you to each and every single one of you
AMAZING readers who love the these books as much as I do!