I’ve been on the family video call for thirty minutes, and I’m slowly losing the will to live. My eldest brother Magnus and his wife Astrid update us on the summer cottage they’re building on the island of Gotland, Hugo talks about his promotion to Head of Oncology at his hospital, and Ansol shares that he’s planning to start his own specialist equine department at the veterinary clinic he owns. Like I said, my brothers are massive overachievers, and as I listen to them talk about their lives and their families, I feel completely inadequate.
“Alex, the Whalers are looking good for another Stanley Cup run this season,” Ansol says, snapping my focus back to the conversation.
“Yeah, we’re looking solid to win the Conference again,” I reply.
“Let’s hope you don’t choke again, lillebror.” Magnus chuckles as he calls me “little brother,” stroking his long red beard, a shit-eating grin on his face. We’ve always been the most competitive with each other being the eldest and the youngest, and he’s constantly giving me shit about my shutout record.
“You know your brother sustained a horrible injury, Magnus,” my mother scolds, leaning toward the webcam on her laptop. “Don’t joke about it. It could have ended his career. Isn’t that right, Hugo?”
“How have I been dragged into this?” Hugo grumbles, rubbing his hands over his short blonde hair. “I’m an oncologist, not a sports doctor.”
I blow out an exasperated breath and roll my eyes as the bickering continues. I allow my mind to wander to the last time I saw Lana. The feeling of her small fingers in my mouth and the way her eyes blazed with desire have been burned into my brain, and I find it hard to think about anything else. There was no doubt she was as aroused as I was in that fleeting moment, but then she fled, and I hardly saw her for the rest of the afternoon. Every time I entered a room, she managed to slip away, and with so many of my teammates and her brother around, it was impossible to get a minute alone with her.
It’s really messing with my head, not to mention the chronic case of blue balls I seem to be suffering from, so I need to know where she’s at. She’s single, that much I know, but following Mila’s warning about possible pain in her past, I need to tread carefully. If I play this wrong, I not only risk upsetting Lana—I risk getting my ass kicked by Matt. That could be a disaster for the team, and if there’s one thing I refuse to do, it’s fuck up our chances for the Stanley Cup again.
As my family begins to say their goodbyes, I tune back into the conversation, wish my brothers luck in their latest ventures, and promise my mother that I’ll keep looking for a good girl to settle down with. I realize I’ve probably missed a lot of important family news while I’ve been zoned out thinking about Lana, but I’m sure if I call Hugo later, he’ll fill me in. He’s always got my back, especially when Magnus is being an annoying dick.
After closing my laptop, I check the time. Shit, I’m going to be late if I don’t get my ass moving. At practice yesterday, Matt was talking about the amazing trails around his house, and we made plans to go for a run. I’m already in my workout gear, so I grab my water bottle, phone, and keys, and drive out toward the Sound.
It gives me more time to think about Lana. There’s obviously some attraction going on between us, which sucks because Matt’s warning rings in my ears like the horn at the end of the period. As much as I want her, I know the bond between brothers is unshakable and to mess with that for a girl, even one as attractive as Lana, is completely against Bro Code.
Fuck! I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white, and I fear I might snap the damn thing right off. I either need to get laid in the very near future or find a way to spend time with Lana that won’t violate my bond with her brother or my teammates.
By the time I pull up outside Matt’s house, I’m so full of nervous energy I bet I could run a marathon in two hours flat. Jogging up the porch steps, I knock loudly on the door and wait, impatiently bouncing on the balls of my feet. I knock again and still get no answer, so I turn the handle, and the door opens just as the sound of Lana’s laughter fills my ears.
Jesus, the sound makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and my heart rate picks up. It’s very quickly becoming one of my favorite sounds.
“No! NO! I swear, you need to stop that right now!” Lana cries from somewhere inside Matt’s house, and before I know what I’m doing, I burst through the door like an angry rhino. Charging through the foyer, I follow the sound of her voice, ready to throw down with whoever is doing something she doesn’t like. Could she have a guy here who’s suddenly getting too handsy and won’t take no for an answer? All sorts of horrific scenarios are flashing through my head as I barrel through the kitchen and into the main room, my eyes searching and scanning for signs of a struggle.
The scene that greets me is even worse than I could possibly imagine.
Lana is on all fours on a yoga mat, her small, curvy body shaking with hysterical laughter, which makes her back arch and her round tits jiggle enticingly. A tall, lean man with messy blonde hair stands over her, also laughing loudly, his hands on his trim hips as he rocks with the force of his hysterics. The scene crushes the small glimmer of hope I have that Lana and I can ever be more than friends—of course a woman like her would be snapped up by the first sexy surfer dude who caught her eye.
I must have been standing in there for longer than I thought because the sudden stillness that fills the room attracts my attention. I notice that both Lana and her companion are staring at me with curious expressions, but I notice that Lana’s a little pissed off.
“Alex. What are you doing here?” she asks, sitting back on her haunches, her hands on her curvy hips.
“I … I’m here to work out with Matt,” I reply, trying my best to keep the growl out of my voice as the tall guy drapes a towel around Lana’s shoulders and helps her to her feet. Why does the sight of his hands on her bare skin make me want to rip them off?
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you’re standing there staring like a creeper.” Lana laughs, her eyes flashing to the man who has an irritating, knowing grin on his face that makes me want to aim a slap shot at him.
I guess my confused expression gives away more than I thought because understanding suddenly dawns on Lana’s face. “Oh, this is my friend Zac. He’s come to stay for a while.”
The word “friend” penetrates the mist, and before I know it, the guy steps forward with his hand outstretched.
“Hey man, great to meet you,” he gushes, pumping my arm up and down in an enthusiastic shake. “I can’t freaking believe I’m in the same room as the greatest NHL goalie since Terry Sawchuk. I mean your shutout record is...”
“Zac! Chill!” Lana snaps. “Stop fanboying over him. I thought it was bad when Bugs came over, but this is verging on pathetic.” She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, clearly annoyed by her friend.
“Sorry, babe,” he mumbles, letting go of my hand and stepping back next to Lana, who elbows him sharply in the ribs and scowls at us both.
Gathering my thoughts, I finally engage my brain and ask, “So, is Matt here? We’re supposed to go for a run.”
Lana looks confused. “No, he went out with Mila about an hour ago. He didn’t mention that you were coming over. Sorry.” She shrugs awkwardly and crinkles her nose in the cutest way. Suddenly, I’m more interested in counting the freckles on her bare shoulders than being pissed at her dumbass brother for forgetting our workout.
“Okay. Well, I guess I’ll drive back to the city and chew your brother out later for forgetting,” I huff, trying to conceal my annoyance at a wasted free day.
“Why don’t you stay and hang out?” Zac suggests, his brown eyes wide with expectation, a hopeful smile on his face.
Shit, do I really want to hang out with Lana and her “friend”?
I’m still not sure what their deal is—is it a friends with benefits situation or are they purely platonic? I saw how that set up ended for Bugs and Cam, and I’m really not sure I want to get in the middle of that.
“I don’t know,” I say hesitantly, desperately trying to come up with an excuse. “I have a game tomorrow…”
“You should stay,” Lana suddenly says, smiling shyly. “We were just about to cook, and Zac is known for preparing too much food. You’re more than welcome.”
Well, how am I supposed to say no to that? An invitation from this gorgeous woman and the offer of free food—the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
“I’d love to,” I reply a little too eagerly, and I don’t miss the smug smirk that flashes across Zac’s face.
“Great.” Lana claps her hands together. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, so I’m leaving you boys in charge of prepping the Coq Au Vin.” With that, Lana spins around, her high ponytail swishing enticingly as she sashays away toward the stairs. As I watch her leave, I suddenly realize I’m now alone with her “friend,” who also happens to be my main competition for her attention. I need to spend the time sizing him up and trying to gauge where their relationship is at.
“Okay, we’d better do what Chef Landon says and get the food ready,” Zac says, leading the way into the kitchen where he washes his hands, ties an apron around his waist, and starts taking ingredients out of the fridge like he’s very familiar with where everything is. That alone worries me—how long has he been here and how long is he planning on staying?
I sit down on a high stool at the kitchen island and accept the bottle of water Zac offers me, wondering how to broach the subject of his relationship with Lana without coming off like a nosy asshole.
“You look like you have something to say,” he says as he begins butchering a whole chicken without even looking at what he’s doing with the huge sharp knife. I guess I should watch my ass while he’s holding it and tread carefully with what I say next.
“How long have you and Lana been dating?” The question comes out in a gruff, tense voice, and I hate that I’m so affected by the fact she might already have a boyfriend.
However, the explosion of laughter that comes out of Zac’s mouth makes me flinch and gape at him. What the fuck did I say that’s so funny? My shocked expression just fuels Zac’s laughter, and he has to put the knife down and wipe his hands on a dishcloth, bracing his palms on the countertop.
“Dude, what’s so funny?” I growl, finally tired of being the butt of some joke I’m not in on.
Zac eventually gets himself under control, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry, man,” he chuckles, continuing to dismember the chicken. “It always makes me laugh when people think Lana and I are a couple.”
“How come?” I ask, still completely confused. “You’d make a great couple.” The words are bitter on my tongue, but there’s no way I’m going to reveal how saying these words hurt me more than a puck to the throat.
Zac takes a deep breath and fixes me with an intense look. “One, you don’t really mean that, and that’s obvious. And two,” he continues. “Put it this way, big guy. I’d be more inclined to date you than her if you know what I mean?”
Suddenly, the penny drops.
I must still be looking at him in confusion because he smirks and shakes his head, concentrating on preparing the chicken.
“Lana and I have been friends since we met on the first day of classes at Le Cordon Bleu,” Zac explains as he starts to brown the chicken, the delicious smell making my mouth water. “She’s an incredible talent and a fantastic person, which is why I came back to the States from Paris to help her with this new business venture.”
I finally come out of my shocked silence and recover the use of my brain. “That’s a big commitment,” I comment. “She must mean a lot to you.”
Zac looks at me with serious eyes. “She’s my best friend—she’s family. I’d do anything to help her and make her happy,” he replies. And then, almost as an aside, he mutters, “I won’t let some asshole hurt her ever again.”
I’m not sure he meant to say that last part as loud as he did and just as I’m about to ask him what he means, Lana returns to the kitchen. She’s freshly showered and dressed in leggings and a sloppy T-shirt that hangs off one shoulder, showing all that tempting freckled skin. As she passes me, I get an intoxicating waft of vanilla and spices, and I can’t help but close my eyes and inhale it like a fucking addict.
Zac notices my reaction and smirks.
“Oh wow, this smells amazing.” Lana sighs, joining Zac at the stove as he removes the chicken pieces from the pan and begins to chop vegetables. I’m in awe of anyone who can cook like that; I can only make an omelet and rely heavily on the team nutritionist and food delivery service for my meals. It’s pathetic, I know, that a grown ass man can’t cook for himself, but I’ve just never had the time or inclination to learn.
As Lana and Zac move around the kitchen with the grace of dance partners, instinctively knowing where the other one is, I begin to digest the information I’ve just received. Yet again there’s the insinuation that Lana has been hurt in a previous relationship and that shit just kills me. But now I can see how much she means to Zac, and I’m really happy that she has someone like him on her side.
I must be completely lost in thought because I look up to find both of them staring at me with amused looks on their faces.
“What?” I ask a little gruffly, taking a swig of water.
Lana giggles and pours almost half a bottle of red wine into the pot on the stove. “I asked if you cook any Swedish dishes,” she repeats. “I went to Stockholm and ate some of the most amazing food of my life.”
I cough awkwardly to clear my throat. “Uh, no,” I admit, a little embarrassed. “I don’t cook.”
Zac snorts out a laugh and continues to chop vegetables as Lana just gawks at me. “Seriously?” she gasps. “You don’t cook anything?”
I run my hand nervously through my hair, feeling both their eyes on me as I admit to being completely useless in the kitchen. “I just never had a chance to learn,” I explain. “I left home at fourteen and moved to Canada, so I spent most of the time either traveling for hockey or moving between billet families. I’m just too busy now and the team nutritionist takes care of everything I eat.”
“That’s so sad,” Lana says, pouting out her bottom lip, making me want to suck it into my mouth. “It’s never too late to learn a new skill, you know. You won’t have a team nutritionist at your disposal forever. And what about when you start a family—are you expecting your wife to cook for you?” She cocks a questioning eyebrow at me.
Her outburst leaves me a little stunned and slightly on the defensive, so I shoot it right back to her. “Do you wanna teach me to cook?” I blurt before I can stop myself.
Lana blinks in shock and before either one of us can speak, Zac butts in. “That’s an amazing idea! You can teach him to cook. You’re a fantastic teacher.”
“What?” we both cry in unison, both shocked at Zac’s ridiculous suggestion.
“I don’t have time to teach a complete novice to cook while I’m trying to get my business off the ground,” Lana argues, putting the casserole in the oven, slamming the door a little too hard.
“Exactly!” I agree. “I don’t have time either between training, traveling, and games.”
“Oh, c’mon!” Zac laughs, washing his hands and wiping them on a dishcloth. “How about you make a deal that’ll benefit you both?”
Lana and I look at each other and then over at Zac, who’s pouring three glasses of wine from the bottle they used for the casserole.
“Explain,” Lana demands. I can see by the sexy angle of her eyebrow that Zac has said something to pique her interest. And from my perspective, if I can get some quality alone time with Lana that doesn’t get my balls pulverized by her big brother, then I’m down.
“Okay, hear me out,” Zac begins, sipping his wine. “Thor is a huge public figure in Seattle, so what if he puts a few shifts in at the food truck when he has the time? It’ll bring a ton of business because people will come to see Thor and then stay to eat your delicious food.”
Lana looks a little skeptical at Zac’s idea, but it actually seems like a really smart suggestion. Hockey fans will come to meet a player and will likely stay and eat her food. Also, from a purely selfish viewpoint, it’ll allow me to spend some more time with her without Matt breathing down my neck.
“I think it’s a great idea,” I say. “And I’m happy to do it when my schedule allows. And you can return the favor by teaching me to cook a few dishes.”
“See, that’s perfect.” Zac laughs, clapping his hands together. But from the look on Lana’s face, she’s less than pleased that her best friend and I are making all these arrangements for her. She flicks her wide blue eyes between us in astonishment and can’t seem to find the words to argue with either of us.
“Fine,” she growls through gritted teeth. “But you do at least five shifts at the truck once it’s up and running, and I want plenty of posts on your Insta account.”
“Deal!” I extend my large hand, and it immediately swallows her smaller one, sending electricity down my spine at the contact, suddenly feeling more excited than I have about anything in a really long time.