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.
Forty-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.