Sweet Hearts (The Lindstroms Book 3)

by Katy Paige

  “Kristian’s piping mad, Kat.” Ingrid crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I saw.” She tilted her head to the side, regarding Ingrid thoughtfully. Her tone brooked no argument. “Well, Miss Matchmaker, you’ll just have to figure out how to take care of that problem, because if he lays a hand on Erik, it’s going to cause a mighty rift in the fabric of this family. I’m not having it. Erik’s my business, clear?”

  Ingrid’s mouth popped open, but she closed it, nodding at her sister-in-law.

  Jenny flashed Katrin a thousand-megawatt smile, stepping forward to take Katrin’s arm and ushering her back to her brother at the campfire. “Oh, I like you so much. We’re going to be good friends, Katrin Svenson. Real good friends.”

  ***

  Erik had pulled Katrin down on his lap in front of the fire and had his arms loosely around her waist, one hand resting lightly on her thigh while the other held a half-finished bottle of Swedish beer the Triple Peak imported every year for the celebration. Her legs dangled over his and her head was comfortably cradled on his shoulder.

  One of the hotel employees came by and threw a few more logs on the fire every half hour or so, keeping it burning hot and high as the night cooled down. At one point they brought over graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate too, and they’d all roasted marshmallows like kids. Lars and Nils told hilarious tales of their latest tour groups that kept everyone laughing. Sitting there surrounded by his family with Katrin on his lap, it occurred to Erik that he’d never felt happier, more centered and complete, in his entire life.

  The surprised and curious looks from the members of their families were less frequent now as the night wore on, and Erik was feeling less like half of a sideshow attraction. They’d enjoyed a boisterous, traditional Swedish smorgasbord all together at a long table in the dining room of the main lodge with plenty of teasing banter and loaded comments all around. The highlight of the meal had been when Jenny and Sam stood up to share that a new little Kelley would be joining the family at Christmastime. Erik had never seen his father so overcome with emotion, even dabbing at his eyes once or twice as he gave his only daughter a long embrace.

  Erik sat next to Katrin at dinner, of course, and when possible, he held her hand under the long table, rubbing her soft palm with the pad of his thumb, happy to have her beside him.

  The only thing upsetting his general feeling of contentment was that Kristian kept shooting dark glances at them. Whether he was trying to figure them out or spoiling for a fight didn’t much matter. Erik wasn’t scared of him, but he also wasn’t interested in riling up Ingrid and Katrin and ruining their first Midsummer together as an extended family. He didn’t look in Kristian’s direction, trying to leave well enough alone. He would try to talk to him later or tomorrow and explain his feelings for Katrin—that they were strong and true, and Kristian didn’t need to worry about his sister. He might even need to assure Kristian of his intentions toward his little sister.

  That forced him to think through what exactly those intentions were.

  As the light finally started to fade outside, he’d looked over at Katrin again and again, her face golden in the candlelight of the table, smiling at something Ingrid said, laughing at stories told by his brothers, even prompting her aunt and mother to recite bawdy old poems in Swedish that the younger generation understood enough to appreciate as dirty, but which made Erik’s father chuckle in a ceaseless stream until he wiped his eyes for the second time in one evening.

  There was something so natural about sitting beside her, being next to her, knowing that she was his girlfriend, and for the second time in the same day, he was struck by the thought that he couldn’t imagine his life without her anymore, or more accurately, he couldn’t bear to imagine his life without her anymore. The deep, small voice in his head asked, So, what does that mean, Erik?

  He had creased the space between his eyebrows in thought, picking through his feelings for the right answer. It means I need her in my life.

  And what’ll you do to keep her there? the voice inquired.

  He’d glanced at her again, sitting beside him at the long table, face bathed in candlelight, laughing at a story Sam was telling about their childhood. She turned to him, and smiled into his eyes, taking his hand under the table before turning back to Sam.

  Whatever it takes.

  ***

  The heat from the campfire was making her drowsy, but Katrin couldn’t remember ever being as physically comfortable as she was now, snuggled in Erik’s arms before the fire while their families swapped stories and news. The perfect end to the perfect day. Well, almost the perfect end. There was only one more thing she could think of that would make today complete.

  She turned her lips toward Erik’s ear, whispering. “Tired.”

  He turned his face, kissing her cheek softly. “Getting late.”

  “Mmm. Drive me home?”

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  She thought she felt him swallow a little too deliberately, though his face betrayed nothing. She leaned forward so she could see his face and caught his eyes, almost silver, in the firelight. Her voice was low and direct, meant only for him. “I’m ready now, Erik.”

  “You sure?”

  She took the beer bottle out of his hand, rested it on the arm of his chair, lacing her fingers through his. “I’m sure.”

  Chapter 15

  Other than telling Erik where and when to turn, they were both unusually quiet on the ride to Katrin’s apartment, which only deepened the thick, tense mood in the car. The idea of being with Erik, sleeping with him, was something that excited and terrified Katrin all at once. Her physical relationship with Wade had never been very fulfilling, and while she hoped that things with Erik would feel very different, she didn’t know for sure. What if he disappointed her? What if she disappointed him? What if the timing was wrong and they ended up feeling awkward with one another afterward?

  She glanced at Erik and found her face softening with the force of her feelings for him. She thought about the fears and reservations he had somehow managed to overcome for her, returning to offer himself to her with tenderness and trust and commitment. The memory of his face beside her when she woke up last Monday morning made her tingle with pleasure: it was the moment her feelings for him had finally come into sharp focus.

  Erik parked in her driveway and cut the engine.

  Katrin wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, wishing she didn’t feel so nervous.

  He looked over at her, surprising her by asking gently, “Sure you want me to come up?”

  Her heart raced, but she nodded at him. “I am.”

  She wasn’t, though. Uncertainty picked at her, questions circling in her head, raising doubts, making her feel shy and nervous.

  He followed her up the steps at the side of the garage and into the apartment. She flicked on the lights and hung her jacket on the peg by the front door. She hadn’t been back home since the day over a month ago when she packed up quickly, heading to Skidoo Bay with Erik, an unknown adventure before her. She slipped off her sandals and turned to him as he closed the door behind him.

  “So...the grand tour, just to refresh your memory; kitchen, living room, bedroom.” She pointed briefly around her apartment, the word bedroom hanging in the air between them until she asked hurriedly, “Do you want a beer?”

  His eyes lingered on her bedroom door for a moment before he looked back at her, shaking his head no.

  “Umm…tea? Coffee?” Her heart beat relentlessly with the force of her nerves.

  He shook his head no again, watching her from where he stood with his back against the front door.

  She rubbed her hands together before putting them back on her hips, rocking back and forth on her heels, helpless, anxious.

  “Stop.” He spoke quietly and gently, closing the distance between them. He took her hand, pulling her into the small living room and down on the couch beside him.

  “Kat, I don’t
want this to be awkward. We’ve never been awkward with each other.” His voice was deep and soothing as he put his arm around her rigid shoulders. “Just talk to me.”

  She stared straight ahead and swallowed. “Okay. Umm. I haven’t done this in a long time. I haven’t been with anyone except…”

  “No.” He touched her cheek with his fingertips, turning her to face him. “Not about that. Stop worrying about that. Stop thinking about that. Talk to me about something else. Anything else.”

  She took a deep, shaky breath then exhaled, leaning into him, putting her head on his shoulder. “God, why am I so nervous?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “Don’t be. It’s just not the right time. Let’s just hang out. Watch TV. Seriously. Just take it off the table. Relax, okay?”

  TV. Relax. She frowned, disappointed. “Totally off the table?”

  “Yeah. That’s fine.” He kicked off his shoes and leaned his head on the back of her couch, pulling her closer into the crook of his arm like an old married couple about to watch Jeopardy.

  She had tucked her legs under her when he pulled her down, but now she sat up on her knees, looking at him.

  “Wait. Erik, you don’t want to?”

  He leaned his head up, opening his eyes. “I’m a guy, Kat. Of course I want to.”

  “You don’t seem like—”

  “I’ve wanted to since the first time I touched you. Since you kissed me in the park. Since you fell asleep next to me on White Horse. Since you wrapped your legs around my waist for the kiss that rocked my world. Since I woke up in your bed last Monday.” He tilted his head to the side, holding her eyes with his. “Every time we touch I want to. But I can wait until you’re ready.”

  She stared at him, unable to speak.

  The backs of his fingers skimmed the side of her face from her temple to her chin with a feather-touch.

  “I don’t want to do anything to hurt you, or to hurt us. You’re the best…” He swallowed, dropping his hand, then met her eyes again. “Kat, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  His words made tears spring to her eyes and something inside of her gave way. She put her hands on either side of his face and pulled his lips to hers. He leaned into her, clasping his arms loosely around her waist until her tongue touched his and then his arms tightened around her, strong and corded, pulling her closer. She moved her hands from his face to wrap her arms around his neck, and he put his hands under her bottom, lifting her onto his lap. The proof of his desire was increasingly evident, and she wiggled just enough to elicit a groan from deep in his throat, to let him know she wasn’t nervous anymore, she was ready.

  Without breaking contact with her mouth, he stood up and carried her the short distance to her bedroom, closing the door behind them with a swift and final kick.

  ***

  Katrin curled up next to Erik, her head on his chest.

  He lay on his back with his arm around her, running his warm hand lightly, distractedly, up and down the skin of her back. His heartbeat under her ear, which had been so fast and furious a few minutes ago, was slowing down now. She breathed in deeply and sighed.

  Katrin had been with Wade for five years, yet she had never experienced anything remotely close to the last hour she spent with Erik. She could not remember pleasure so intense, or feelings as sharp and profound for another human being. For the first time in her life, she hadn’t held anything back. She had given herself completely to Erik, and she had reveled in his possession of her. She tightened her arm across his chest.

  “You okay, Ӓlskling?” he asked softly, moving his fingers to her temples and gently brushing her blond hair back from her cheek as he had done when she was sick. “Was that okay?”

  She smiled, resting her chin on his chest, looking up at his face. “Erik. You should not need to ask that.”

  He smiled back at her, blue eyes sparkling and warm. “Yeah, it was…um…”

  “Amazing,” she sighed, laying her cheek back down on his chest and her arm back across him.

  “Mmm. It was.” He put his hands under her arms and pulled her up so that she was half-lying on him and they were face to face. His brow was furrowed, and he searched her eyes urgently. “I can’t believe how much you mean to me.”

  Before he said the words, she’d had a fleeting fear that he would say something crushing like: I can’t offer you my heart. Relieved, she tilted her head, looking into his eyes, ice blue stars in the darkness of her bedroom. “I know. Me too.”

  In one smooth move, he flipped her over so that he was on top of her. “You’re mine.”

  “All yours,” she answered, reaching around his neck to pull his lips down to hers.

  ***

  Her naked back was pressed up against his warm chest, and his arms were around her, holding her close to him. In the darkness of the room, she heard the steadiness of his breathing and knew that he was sleeping. I should sleep too. She was going to be tired, and maybe a little sore, in the morning. That made her grin; there was something incredibly sexy about her body being used to aching by his.

  The morning. Back to the Triple Peak in the morning. Back to their families, whom she loved. Back to Midsummer, which she loved. With Erik, whom she loved.

  She gasped lightly.

  With Erik, whom I love.

  She felt him stir in his sleep, tightening his arm around her, his fingers flexing lightly and then flattening against the skin under her breasts as his breathing deepened again.

  I love Erik. Love him. Completely.

  She searched her heart and found she wasn’t shocked or frightened by the force and finality of her feelings, by the easy name she had finally given them. She had probably felt this way for some time. He was a miracle to her. A reward after struggle. Safety after fear. Tenderness after disappointment. And ever since the first moment she’d met him, she felt as though Erik was the person the world had intended for her, for whom she was destined; the cool, doubting cynic whom she was somehow able to help transform into the warm, tender romantic who held her as he slept beside her.

  Thoughts of him making love to her almost made her weep—the way he watched her face, making sure she found her release before he found his own. Her blond Viking King who was, one by one, vanquishing his fears. Who had—as if by magic or grace—finally made room to share his life with someone. And of all the women in the world who wanted to be an “us” with him, he had chosen her.

  His palm was flat on her chest, under her breasts. She felt his chest rise and fall rhythmically behind her as he slept, and she put her hand over his, closing her eyes.

  I love you, Erik Lindstrom. You’re mine.

  ***

  It was dawn and the beginnings of sunlight filtered through the window into her room, dim and dreamlike, illuminating her hair like a halo. Her lashes fanned out on her cheek, and her lips looked bruised and red from so much loving. Erik loved that.

  She’s mine.

  He pillowed his head on his flat hands and stared at her. At one point last night, she had called out “Love me, Erik!” and while she’d meant the words in the physical sense, his mind had answered her plea with the response, I do.

  As he watched her, the words rose to the surface of his consciousness again, and he felt them resound with an astounding certainty: I do. I do love you, Kat.

  He breathed in deeply, confronted with the reality that had been creeping up on him for weeks, since the very first moment he met her; he wasn’t just attracted to Katrin. She wasn’t merely fun, or a passing infatuation, or anything impermanent in his life. The stark phenomenon of Erik’s life stared him in the face with undisputed clarity: he was in love with Katrin Svenson.

  “Aw, Älskling,” he murmured, eyes burning, overcome with the strength and surety of his feelings for her.

  Stirring lightly, her eyes fluttered opened, then closed again, and she moved closer to him, snuggling her breasts against his chest.

  “Är jag din Älskling
?” she breathed, the same words she had murmured in her sleep as she napped beside him on their first car ride to Skidoo. Am I your sweetheart?

  “Ja. Du är min Älskling. Du tillhör mig.” Yes. You are my sweetheart. You belong to me.

  It was the closest he dared come to telling her that he loved her. He watched her lips turn up in a half-asleep grin, and swallowed against the strength, the sheer purity, of his feelings for her. He trailed a finger down her side from under her arm, skimming her breasts, to her hip and back again.

  She opened her eyes, heavy-lidded and dreamy. “Make love to me, Minste.”

  His eyes dilated, his blood rushed, and he covered her body with his.

  ***

  “You’re going to be sore, Kat. No more for now. Later.”

  “Later?” she asked, pouting.

  He chuckled, trapping her mischievous hands between his. “Wow. So wanton. Where’s the girl from the car yesterday who was so shy?”

  “Now I’m too forward for you?” Katrin looked at him with wide eyes, incredulous, saucy. “Somehow I doubt that. I was there for the ‘I want you in my bed’ speech, Minste.”

  He rolled on top of her, bracing himself on his elbows as he peppered her face with little kisses.

  “Too forward? Nah.” Kiss. “Too…trusting?” Kiss. “Too…sweet?” Kiss. “Too…beautiful?” Kiss. “Too good for me? Definitely.” He nudged her nose with his and smiled, his eyes shining with his feelings for her. “Took me a while to find my way, Kat, but I’m here now.”

  She raised her eyebrows, naughty hands deployed, and murmured provocatively, “It’s later, Erik.”

  Defeated, he kissed her swollen lips. Too much happiness.

  ***

  “It’s time to get up,” she said, picking up the clock on her bedside table and showing it to him. She swung her legs over the side of her bed, her back to him.

  “Stay.” He reached out and snaked a hand around her waist from where he lay next to her on his back.

  She looked at him over her shoulder, smiling and scolding at once. “Minste.”