I froze.
Exactly. Think about that. There are no private moments between you and Axl, because there is nothing between you but a PR campaign. Don’t be such a fucking girl, and get all swoony. Take it as a business opportunity at face value.
I spun around and granted Axl a dazzling smile.
Immediately he became suspicious. “What?”
“Let’s mingle.”
Axl clasped his big hand over mine and led us up to the second deck.
Peter motioned us over to where he stood with two older men in suits. “I’d like you to meet Brian and Brad Sarducci. They own the Blue Badge Energy Drink Company out of New Jersey. Axl Hammerquist, pro hockey player right here in Minnesota, and Annika Lund, VP at Lund Industries.”
We shook hands.
Brian addressed Axl. “Think your team has the stones to beat the Devils this season? We shut you out all three games last year.”
Axl blinked.
Shoot. He didn’t know Axl couldn’t speak English. I faced Axl and translated.
A beat of silence.
Then in a completely even tone Axl said, “Tell him that I will personally guarantee that not only do we have the balls to beat the Devils, but we will humiliate them in front of their fans and make them question their loyalty to a has-been team.”
Peter’s jaw tightened.
I offered Brian a quick smile. “Axl says last season was last season. He’s focused on this team, this year. He looks forward to the challenge each team presents every time he skates onto the ice.”
I could have sworn I heard Axl release a tiny snort of derision—but I must’ve been mistaken.
“Lund Industries,” Brad said, giving me a creepy once-over. “You’re part of the Lund family that owns the business?”
“Yes, I am.”
“And you work in PR?”
“I’ve worked in most of the departments, starting from the time I was sixteen, but yes, I’m VP of the PR division.”
“Huh. So, is it a PR problem that barely anyone outside the Midwest recognizes your little Midwestern company? I’ll be honest. I’d never heard of Lund Industries until Peter mentioned it tonight and I took a quick second and looked it up on my phone.”
Axl growled. No mistaking it that time. Brad’s sneer must’ve alerted him to the dismissive tone of the conversation.
But I was used to fighting my own battles. “Well, jeepers, Mr. Sardonic, it was thoughtful of you to take precious time away from running your company that’s what . . . a few years old? To run a quick check on our little Midwestern company that’s been in business for one hundred years. I’d believe it was ironic that you’ve never heard of us, but then again, I don’t believe we are in the same league, us with our billion-dollar annual sales revenue across the globe. Why, I’ll bet you’ve probably used or eaten items produced by Lund Industries and don’t even know it because our product lines are so very diverse. And what is it you manufacture? A single type of energy drink?” I paused. “So, no. I don’t believe building our brand at Lund Industries has ever been a problem. Especially not on my watch.” I lifted an eyebrow at Peter. “I don’t appreciate you wasting my time. And don’t waste Axl’s—or Jensen’s—time with a potential endorsement from them. They both can do better.” I walked off.
When I glanced over my shoulder to see if Axl was following me, I saw him pantomime a mike drop.
When he turned around his grin had transformed his entire face from good-looking to double-take, stop-in-your-tracks-and-stare gorgeous.
Sigh. It really was unfair that he had it all.
When he reached me, Mr. No PDA actually hugged me. He bent to whisper, “You left them stunned, Attila.”
“Your mike drop was a nice touch.”
“Had to show solidarity for my girl.”
“Even when you had no idea what I said?”
Axl looked into my eyes. “Especially then.”
“Why?”
“Sometimes words aren’t necessary.”
That whole thinking, breathing thing became way harder than it should have been.
His focus kept shifting to my mouth. His big hand still rested in the middle of my back.
Enough sexual energy sizzled from him that he should’ve worn placarding denoting:
!DANGER! HIGH VOLTAGE WARNING!
For once, I heeded the risk.
I reached behind me and grabbed his hand, eliminating the potential temptation and possible regret. “Come on. Let’s check out the view on the top deck.”
There were more people than I expected but none on the highest viewing spot.
I stood on the prow, gazing down the river, both sides of the banks a solid line of lights. The water here seemed calmer than on Lake Minnetonka, where my parents lived. I’d grown up by the water, and being on a boat reminded me how much I missed it.
“Having a Titanic moment?” Axl murmured in my ear.
When had he become the Velcro boyfriend? I glanced at him over my shoulder. “No.”
“Fair warning, there’s a photographer off to the left side snapping pictures of us.”
That explained why he’d become glued to my side. “Good to know.”
“Did Peter tell you how long this would last?”
“Bored already?” I asked.
“Hungry. Where’s the food?”
“There isn’t a meal on one of these sunset cruises. But there might be appetizers on the lower deck.”
“If I don’t eat, me punching someone won’t be an act.”
“Annika?”
I placed my hand on the railing and turned toward my brother. “Jensen. Hey. What’s up?”
Axl moved in behind me—right behind me—and twined his fingers through my other hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if he’d done it a hundred times.
Jensen looked good. It’d been a while since I saw him decked out in a suit outside of the required “dress nice” edict after a football game. Although Jens was the youngest of my brothers, he was the tallest and the broadest. But he had nothing on Axl.
“What are you doing here?” he asked me.
“Peter invited us.”
“Who’s us?”
“Axl and me. We’re dating.”
Jensen laughed. “Right. I’ll play along. I’m Jensen Lund. Annika’s brother. And you are?”
“Axl Hammerquist,” I answered.
“There a reason he can’t speak for himself?”
The make-my-little-brother-uncomfortable side of me wanted to say, Axl sprained his tongue during our precruise activities. But with my luck, the reporter would hear that. “Axl is from Sweden and doesn’t speak English.”
“That’s odd. Seven years’ worth of English is required to graduate from secondary school in Sweden. It’s why they have the highest ratio of nonnative English speakers in the world.”
“How are you pulling that stat out of your ass?” I snapped.
“I dated Elsa Verbeek last year. The Swedish supermodel?”
“Funny, I didn’t think conversation was required for the women you date.”
“Usually it’s not.” Jensen folded his arms over his chest and studied Axl. “He’s one of Peter’s clients. Who does he play for?”
“The Wild.”
“Ah. That explains the inability to form coherent sentences in any language.”
“Jensen!”
My brother offered Axl his hand. In Swedish he said, “Jensen Lund. Annika’s brother.”
Axl shook Jensen’s hand. Hard. “Axl Hammerquist, Annika’s boyfriend. I take it a ‘footballer’ had choice words about the superiority of that game over hockey?”
“Not yet.”
“Bring it. I’ll remember to use simple words when explaining game-winning strategy so you don’t get confused, since winning seems to be a foreign concept to your team.”
“Oh for god’s sake, Axl. Really?”
Jensen’s face went cold. “How did my sister end up
with a guy like you?”
“All thanks to you, my friend.”
Please don’t go there.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Jensen demanded.
“It means that after you signed with Peter, Peter asked Mom, who asked me, if I’d act as Axl’s interpreter,” I interjected. “After a rough start, we realized we had a lot in common and we started seeing each other outside of the times I’m his translator.”
Axl smirked. “Yeah, but you still like it rough sometimes, don’t you, baby—” Axl didn’t have a chance to finish before Jensen lunged at him.
A scuffle ensued . . . after Axl moved me to make sure I was out of the line of fire.
People gathered around to watch. No one interfered, because they weren’t dumb enough to get between two pro athletes who were beating the tar out of each other.
It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. This was supposed to end with a little chest thumping and macho posturing.
Bull. You grew up in a testosterone-fueled family. This was the only outcome.
I yelled, “Stop it, both of you!”
They didn’t stop.
Then Peter showed up and stopped the altercation. He sent his other guests downstairs for more complimentary champagne. Then he tossed a linen napkin at Axl and one at Jensen so they could wipe the blood from their faces.
Axl’s bottom lip was split open, swollen and bleeding.
Jensen had a cut above his right eyebrow, also bleeding. Strangely enough, there wasn’t any blood—not a drop—on either of their shirts.
“What is wrong with you two?” Peter demanded, glaring at both of them.
Neither Axl nor Jensen said a word.
I didn’t know which one I was supposed to go to. It was automatic to go to Jens. I’d been kissing his boo-boos since he was a baby. But Axl . . . he actually looked worse off than Jensen.
“Is either of you seriously injured enough I need to be concerned about missed practices or game times this week?” Peter asked.
Axl shook his head.
Jensen followed suit.
“Stay out of trouble for the next twenty minutes until we get back to the dock.”
Peter had taken only a few steps before Axl said to him, “I’m on track because of Annika. You see how easy it is for me to slide off. She deserves more and you damn well know it. So find a way to make it happen.”
I released the breath I’d been holding. Thankfully Axl did have some tact—I hadn’t been sure he wouldn’t level a threat.
Peter said nothing. He just vanished down the stairs.
I walked over to where Jens leaned against the railing. “Lemme see.”
“I’m fine. It doesn’t need stitches.” Jens locked his baby blue gaze on to mine. “What was that last bit the stick-head was babbling about?”
“Just business stuff.”
“Involving you?”
I nodded. “It’ll get sorted.”
“If it doesn’t, let me know.”
“I will.”
“Your boyfriend is an asshole.”
I smiled at him. “I know.”
“Christ. I will never understand women.” He smirked at me. “Go tend to his wounds. I hurt him worse than he hurt me.”
Of course that was the important thing. Men.
Axl rested against the rail. His eyes were closed. He’d dropped the napkin to the ground so I could see that his lip had stopped bleeding.
“You okay?”
He opened his eyes. “For the record, I didn’t hit him back very hard. I wanted to.”
“Good to know.” I peered closely at his lip. “You need to get ice on that.”
“I saw guys pulling cans of beer from a cooler over there.”
“Stay put. I’ll see what I can find.” At the beverage station, I bent over and dug out a cold can from the back of the bin. When I turned around Axl didn’t pretend he hadn’t been eyeballing my ass.
He didn’t offer an apology or an explanation. He just watched me approach with those beautifully assessing eyes.
I pressed the icy-cold can to his mouth.
He hissed out a breath.
“I know you’re hungry. Do you want me to track down food for you?”
“No.”
“Do you want to sit in a lounge chair?”
“I’m not a goddamn invalid, Annika. I got punched in the mouth. That’s it.” As soon as he snapped out the words, he said, “That’s not what I meant. I meant to say I’m fine. But I’d like it if you stayed up here with me.” He paused. “Unless you want to go see if your asshole brother is crying in the bathroom.”
“Axl.”
“Are all your brothers like him?”
“No. Jensen is actually the sweet one.”
“Great.”
I laughed.
Axl looked at me.
“What?”
“I like to hear you laugh. Come out to dinner with me tomorrow night.”
My belly flipped. I started to ask why but changed it to “okay” instead. “But I have to work a little later than usual.”
“I’ll pick you up at your office. Text me when you’re done.”
“Stop talking. You’re supposed to be icing this.” I rolled the can to find a cooler spot and braced my hand on his chest for balance.
Axl curled his hand around the side of my face.
The heat in his eyes could melt the polar ice caps. I was getting warm in all sorts of places.
“You are extraordinarily beautiful, Annika Lund.”
Forget warm. I was downright hot. I managed to say, “Thank you. Now stop talking.”
He grinned at me.
Peter tracked us down before we docked. He said, “Annika? A word please.”
But Axl spun me around and pressed my back to his front so we
All You Need Page 8
