Pucking Strong: An MM Workplace Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 4)

“Wait—no, you have to use the straw! Only the straw, remember? You gotta pop ’em quick.” I laugh, blowing another stream of bubbles over Karolina’s hospital bed.noveldrama

She giggles, her casted arm holding tight to Teddy the Bear as she waves her free arm through the air, swatting at the bubbles. She’s looking much better today. Her left arm and leg are both casted in bright purple. The bruising around her eye is fading to a mottled yellow brown. The thin cuts along her cheek and brow are healing well too.

“No, like a sword. You gotta jab,” I tease, miming the movement with the bubble wand.

“Morbror, watch,” she squeals.

On the other side of the bed, Henrik smiles and hums, sipping his coffee. Fuck, he looks good enough to spread on toast. He’s wearing a charcoal cable-knit sweater. He hasn’t bothered to shave this week, which works out well for me. His cheeks that were stubbly now look bearded. And his wavy hair is sort of flopped forward, a day’s worth of product making it stylishly messy.

I usually only ever see him in his hockey uniform or in shorts and a T-shirt. Well, and game-day fits. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen Henrik Karlsson walk off a plane wearing a tailored three-piece suit. Fuck me, that’s what I want: Swedish Henrik and game-day fit Henrik. I’ll spread one on toast and down the other like a shot.

Okay, these thoughts are completely inappropriate to have while I’m playing bubble tag with his niece. Get it together, Teddy.

Henrik gets distracted from our silly game when his phone starts to buzz. Shooting me a tense look, he answers the phone and stands. Speaking in quick Swedish, he heads for the door. Fuck, what was that look? Is it the doctor? His lawyer? In this moment, I have never regretted more than I can’t understand a word of Swedish. Looking for any distraction, I blow more bubbles for Karolina.

Things have been tense since we got back to the city this morning. We made a quick stop at the apartment to change our clothes (cue the cable-knit sweater moment). Then, almost as soon as we walked through the hospital doors, Henrik was alerted that Karolina is getting discharged today.

We should be celebrating. It means all her surgeries are done. All she needs now is time to rest and heal, and she can do that from home. The trouble is that we still don’t know which home they’ll send her to. If Henrik would just stay in Sweden, they’d approve the emergency custody order. But a new hockey season is about to start. Henrik has to get back to Jacksonville.

I know the Rays have been in touch this week, asking for updates. It sucks, but I also get it. The NHL is a multi-billion-dollar-a-year industry. They’re all for supporting family emergencies, but Henrik has a contract with the Rays. The team can’t wait for him forever. Not when so many talented guys stand waiting in the wings. Henrik’s game clock is officially ticking down the last few seconds.

I’m about to blow more bubbles for Karolina when he pokes his head in the room. “Teddy, come.”

Heart in my throat, I leave the bubbles on the bedside table.

“No,” Karolina cries.

“We’ll be just outside the door, honey.” Ducking into the hallway, I stop, eyes wide. Elin Ågren is standing next to Henrik. She looks as severe as ever. Square-framed black glasses, no makeup. Her long blonde hair is slicked back in a straight ponytail. She’s wearing a black pantsuit with a cream pussybow blouse. God, she’s like the anti-Poppy. Where Poppy St. James is all color and life, Henrik’s lawyer exists only in humorless shades of grey.

I glance between them. “What’s going on?”

Henrik glares at her. “She wouldn’t tell me until I called for you.”

“As your legal partner, this news concerns him as well,” she replies coolly.

My heart skips a beat as I grab Henrik’s hand. “Oh god, did the judge decide already?”

Elin nods. “Given the unconventional circumstances of your case, we managed to get the decision expedited. The welfare court ruled this morning.”

I squeeze Henrik’s hand tight, sending up every good thought and prayer to the high heavens. “Just tell us.”

She spares us the torture of more waiting. “You were both awarded temporary custody of Karolina Karlsson.”

All the air leaves my chest on a sharp exhale. “Oh, thank god.” I grab his arm, even as I keep squeezing his hand. “Hen, you did it. You won.”

Henrik presses his free hand to his chest, eyes shut tight as he mutters what sounds like a prayer. Then he looks to me, tears in his eyes. “I really thought I was going to lose her.”

I wrap my arm around his waist, keeping him from sinking to the floor. “She’s yours,” I assure him. “She’s coming home with you.”

“I’ve emailed you the judge’s ruling,” Elin goes on. “And I have a copy here that you both must sign.”

I go still. “Wait, I have to sign something?”

Elin levels her icy-blue stare at me. “Of course. Henrik’s temporary custody is conditional. You are now part of those conditions.”

My heart freaking stops. “What?”

“I told you to consider carefully what you were doing,” she replies. “The judge only approved this because of you, Teddy. She appreciated your expertise in injury rehabilitation and your record of working with children.”

Henrik stiffens. “I don’t understand. Is the court awarding custody of Karolina to me or to Teddy?”

Elin purses her lips. “They’re awarding custody to both of you. As legal partners, you will share the duties of raising this child, will you not? You will both be her surrogate fathers. And this is only temporary. You’ll have to complete the adoption process before the court will consider making it permanent.”

I sink back, my shoulders hitting the wall as I drop Henrik’s hand. For the thousandth time in the last three days, the thought flashes like a bright neon sign inside my mind: We did not think this through.

Now I’m Karolina’s father? I was doing this just as a friend thing. Henrik will be the one to love her and care for her, not me. I was just gonna help out. You know, teach her some PT exercises, pick her up from school, watch movies together, make mac and cheese, maybe braid her hair …

Which are all things a parent would do.

Oh god, I think I’m gonna be sick. Why are they looking at me?

Henrik’s brows are knit with concern as he reaches for me. “Teddy …”

I pull away from him. “Don’t.”

Elin’s frown deepens. “You see now the seriousness of your situation. This isn’t a game. There is no winning. There is only Karolina and what’s best for her. The two of you now hold the fate of a young girl in your hands. Henrik, so long as you’re playing professional hockey, traveling as much as you do, the court’s opinion is clear: If Teddy walks away, they’ll likely reconsider your custody. For now, as her next of kin, you are approved as her temporary guardian, contingent on Teddy living in the home to assist with her rehabilitation.”

Oh, fucking fuck. This cannot be happening. I’m now the glue of this whole operation?

“The court has further ordered that your offseasons be spent here in Sweden,” she goes on. “This is to ensure that there is no detrimental loss of culture or language for Karolina. Will you agree to this term?”

Henrik nods. “Of course. I always come home for the summers anyway. Christmas too, if I can manage it.”

Where the hell does that leave me? Am I now committing to spending all my summers in Sweden until Karolina turns eighteen? I have a job. I have sisters and niblets and friends. I have my own travel I want to do. I want to hike across Southeast Asia. I want to go to Burning Man. My god, can you imagine Henrik at Burning Man, wearing nothing but leather chaps and a cropped lace top?

Elin pulls out the folder containing the court’s custody settlement, completely oblivious to my freak-out. “So long as you provide the court with proof of her medical insurance and enrollment in an American school, she is cleared to travel with you back to America. As we’ve already discussed, there will be a series of in-home placement reviews as the adoption process moves forward. I’ll send you both a schedule for the visits when I have them.”

Henrik takes the paperwork and a pen from her. “Teddy, turn around.”

I feel like I’m having one of those cartoon out-of-body experiences. Like, I’m here, but also I’m floating somewhere near the ceiling. I turn, and Henrik uses my back to sign the paperwork. The custody paperwork. For a child. Because apparently, we’re both becoming fathers today. Surrogate fathers, but still, the word father is definitely in there.

He taps my shoulder, and I turn. Then he hands me the papers and the pen.

“Sign where you see your name,” Elin directs, pointing to the form.

And there it is. In the jumble of Swedish, I see a thin black line. Under that line is my name: Theodore Malik O’Connor. For the second time in as many days, I’m about to sign my life away. I press the papers flat between Henrik’s shoulders, the pen poised over the signature line. If I sign this now, I’m accepting shared temporary custody of a child. And not, like, a cat child, or a plant, or a bearded dragon. A human child. A person.

Karolina.

I’ve only known her for a less than a week, and now I’m gonna be her father? “What if she doesn’t like me?” I whisper, my fingers pinching tight to the pen.

Henrik glances over his shoulder. “What?”

“Karolina. What if she doesn’t even like me? I don’t know the first thing about being someone’s dad. What if I do the wrong thing or say the wrong thing? What if I hurt her feelings? What if I get it all wrong?”

Elin’s eyes narrow. “All questions that should have been asked before I filed.”

Ignoring the papers, I round on her. “You know what, fuck you, Glacier Ice Barbie. We know we rushed into this, okay? This was a rash decision. And you’ve made your opinion on it crystal fucking clear. But Henrik was out of options.”

Henrik’s arm bands across my chest, pinning me to the wall. “Don’t.”

“She fucking started it,” I growl, pointing at her with the pen.

“Not here.”

“Well, my god, Henrik. If not here, then where?” I gesture around the hallway of this Swedish children’s hospital ward. “Where am I allowed to completely lose my shit? Point me in that direction, because I am officially losing it.”

“Hey,” he says again, his free hand cupping my face. “Look at me.”

“Your lawyer is a jerk—”

“Don’t look at her. Look at me.”

My chest heaves as I let myself look at him. Fuck, I could lose myself in the blue of his eyes.

“She doesn’t matter.” He turns us so my back is to her. “Nothing else matters. Not the lawyers or the coaches, the agents, the doctors. Let them all fade away. At the end of the day, this is about you, me, and Karolina. Together, we will find a way to make this work. I swear it to you, Teddy. I will not fail you in this. One step at a time, right? Those were your words.”

Leaning against the wall, I search his face. “How can you put so much faith in me? You hardly know me.”

Without hesitation, he splays his hand over my heart. “Rent hjärta, remember? I trust this.”

With his free hand, he grabs my wrist, the pen dropping to the floor, and presses my palm to his chest. I flex my fingers, feeling the beating of his heart. “Do you trust me, Teddy? Do you trust my heart as I trust yours?”

He’s asking the wrong question. This isn’t about whether I trust the strength of his heart. The question is whether I can trust him not to crush my heart. Because he has it in his hands in more ways than one. As surely as it now pulses under his palm, I know it beats only for him. Can I really trust him not to break it?

God help me, I know the answer is no.

But I pick up the pen anyway.

And I sign the form.