For ones that aren’t salvageable.”
“Once again you get to decide the final fate on what’s considered redeemable.”
Pretty jagged barb there, buddy.
Rausch attempted conversation as we worked side by side, but he eventually abandoned the effort when my responses were little more than grunts.
When had I picked up Axl’s habits?
I could tell Jensen found it amusing.
Dallas took the coats we’d separated and hung them on racks.
After an hour it didn’t appear as if we’d made any progress. I pulled my arm behind my back to try to loosen the knot of tension and twisted my head from side to side.
“Are your shoulders sore? Let me help.”
The next thing I knew, Rausch had his hands on my shoulders and was giving me a massage.
“You are so tight, Annika.”
No, seriously. He was not aiming for sexy banter.
“Does it usually take a long time to loosen you up?”
I glanced over my shoulder when I heard the door open.
Axl strode in and paused, his focus entirely on me.
Several people filed in and spread out behind him.
Either Rausch was stupid or just that oblivious, but he kept going with his “massage.”
The ire on Axl’s face indicated wrenching me away from Rausch in the most painful way possible was imminent, so I saved him the trouble and jerked free of Rausch’s Vulcan death grip.
I heard a snicker and glanced over at Jensen, who stood off to the side, a smug grin on his face.
Then Axl was on me. One brawny arm wrapped around my waist, one hand tugging me back by my ponytail, his mouth hot and possessive on mine.
I managed to take one breath before the onslaught, filling my lungs with his scent—soap, and the underlying tang of sweat, the taste of him filling my mouth—coffee and a hint of wintergreen mint.
His reaction was over-the-top. Way over-the-top.
Like you care. He’s kissing you like he owns you. Isn’t that what you want?
I had to remember that he was playing a part. The “I’m the super-jealous boyfriend type, so back the fuck off” response to seeing Rausch’s hands on me.
Then Axl softened the kiss and his touch, dragging his callused fingers down the side of my face, stopping to cup my cheek and sweep his thumb across my jawbone before he ended the embrace.
In that moment, I almost believed he was staking his claim on me—for my benefit and everyone else’s.
Then he said, “I missed you,” in English, giving me a reality check. This was all for show.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not.” I peered around his arm before I met his gaze. “You brought friends?”
“You said you needed help. You ask, I provide. That is one of the many things I do for you.”
He’d said that last part in a husky tone that dripped of sexual intimacy.
I wanted to smack him and jump him. Not necessarily in that order.
“Come and meet your volunteers.” He pressed his hand into the small of my back, no surprise that it was practically cupping my ass when we reached his friends.
I smiled at Relf. “He roped you into this? And you don’t even have to translate?”
Relf blushed. “I am happy to help.”
Next a guy with dreads past his shoulders, piercings in his lip, nose and ear, stepped forward. He had a beautiful smile. “Man. You are way too hot for Ax-man.”
I laughed. “Thank you. I’m Annika.”
“I’m Martin. I live across the hall from Axl.”
“Thanks for coming, Martin.”
“This is Boris. He is a speed skater from Finland who also lives in my building,” Axl said by way of introduction.
Boris, another giant blond, muttered something.
A gorgeous dark-haired man with assessing eyes thrust out his hand. “Kazakov. Team captain. Call me Kaz.”
Interesting that he didn’t give his first name.
I recognized the last man. Igor.
So did Dallas. She came running at him.
He caught her and held her tightly.
“I tried to stay away, but I don’t want to—”
“It’s okay,” Igor said. He spun around and carried Dallas out.
I looked at Axl. “Seriously? He speaks English too?”
Axl rolled his eyes skyward and whistled.
All of the new helpers snickered.
Jensen wandered over to the group. “Hey. I’m Jensen Lund. Annika’s younger brother. Glad you could help out today. It’s appreciated.”
After the handshakes and “Dude, you’re ‘The Rocket’” conversations ended, Jensen faced Axl. “Axl, my man! Good to see you!”
“Same.”
Then they did some forearm-clutching, half-man-hug shoulder-bump thing that looked painful.
When had I stepped into an alternative dimension where Jensen and Axl were best buds?
“What’s the plan, bossy?”
I glared at my brother. “Sort and hang. Sort and pair up.”
“Looks like they’ve paired up again,” Kaz said of Igor and Dallas.
“What I need paired up is all of that.” I pointed to the mountain of gloves and mittens. “Four piles. Men’s, women’s, children’s and mismatched.”
“I am totally game for being the little kitten that pairs all the lost mittens,” Martin said with a grin. “And then I can have some pie.”
I laughed. “Great. All the rest of this?” I gestured to the various piles. “Needs to be hung up on the appropriate racks.”
Relf and Boris separated.
“You still want me building more racks?” Jensen asked me.
“Looks like we’ll need them.”
“What am I doing?” Axl asked.
“You’re helping Annika and Rausch,” Jens answered.
I stared at my buttinsky brother. “You’re not in charge. I think—”
“I think Jens is right, since I am here to work directly with my girlfriend on a project that means so much to her,” Axl said with total sincerity. “So lead the way.”
“No, you can do Dallas’s job, since she’s disappeared with Igor.” I was worried about her. Did her quitting the cheer squad have anything to do with the Russian hockey player? “Anyway, the piles are already sorted by gender and size. Keep them that way as you hang them up.”
“Is there a gender-neutral pile?”
“No. That’s redundant.”
“Not having it is shortsighted. Most of the outerwear in Sweden—”
“Well, you’re not in Sweden anymore, are you?” Rausch inserted haughtily. “The way Annika has it organized is highly efficient. I suggest skipping the argument and getting straight to work.”
“And you are?” Axl asked coolly.
“Rausch Johnson. I’ve known Annika”—he shot me a look somewhere between smug and lewd—“for at least a decade. We’ve done more events together than most married couples.” Rausch laughed. “For a while, people assumed we were the ultimate power couple. Didn’t they, Annika?”
Sixteen
___
AXL
I’d hated that Rausch guy from the moment I saw him with his hands on Annika.
The smarmy fucker had looked down his nose at me like I was a bug and had just kept touching her. Like he had the right to. Like she wanted him to.
Wrong on both accounts.
So I’d broken my no-PDA rule and kissed the hell out of her.
For the past hour I’d had to listen to him stroll down memory lane. He hadn’t cared if Annika had taken the journey with him or not. He’d rambled on to goad me into reacting. As much as I fantasized about laying him out cold—hey, the pile of coats would cushion his fall—I prided myself on acting unaffected.
When I ran out of room on a rack, I headed to the back to grab another one from Jensen.
“Here. Take this one. It’d be a damn crying shame if
you were to hop on it, lose control and mow down that motherfucker Rausch.”
“No love lost there, huh?”
“I hate that asshole.”
“We’ve got that in common,” I said.
He wrenched hard enough on a screw that he stripped it. He swore and started to get up to search for a replacement.
“I’ll get you one. What size?”
“Three-sixteenths. Straight head.”
I rummaged in the plastic cup of extras until I found one. I passed it over.
“Thanks.”
“So, what’s your issue with Little Johnson?”
He snorted. “He’s a mouth-breathing waste of air. And a weasel dick. He’s had his eye on Annika for years.”
My humor dried up. “She ever eye him back?”
“Hell no. He’s one of those guys who knows she’s focused on her career and thinks if he bides his time, she’ll get desperate to have kids and eventually come to him.”
“He doesn’t seem like Annika’s type.”
“Annika doesn’t have a type. She dates around”—Jensen glared at me—“not to say she sleeps around. She’s never been serious about a guy longer than three dates. She claims she gets bored and it’s a waste of her time. I call dating Annika ADHD—Another Date Hits Dead End.”
I snickered.
“So that’s probably why the press is interested in you, because she’s not been linked with a ‘boyfriend’ before. She has been out platonically with Rausch more than any other guy.”
“Why is that? He’s got money? Power? What?”
“Convenience. He’s got money for sure. Power?” Jensen shrugged. “Some. Less than he thinks he has. He’s cocky, which I don’t get. He didn’t back off when I mentioned her boyfriend before you got here.”
My eyes narrowed on him as I tried to figure out his angle on the situation. “You attempted to pound my face in last time we met, Lund. What changed?”
“I still think you’re an asshole. But you’re the asshole Annika chose, so I’ll deal.”
“I’m flattered,” I said dryly.
“Don’t be.” He made a stabbing motion at me with the screwdriver. “I will grind you into dust if you fuck her over. Anyway, I overheard Annika and Dallas talking and Rausch is a ‘you scratch my back’ kind of dude, so for him being here and helping out today, she’ll owe him.”
“She’ll owe him what? A date? The hell that’s happening when she’s dating me.”
“I hear ya. I just wanted you to be aware of it, because Annika will cave the moment Rausch makes the demand. Now after he’s seen you two together? It’ll happen sooner rather than later.”
I rubbed at the sharp pain in my gut. “Or we could beat the piss out of him as a reminder that their friendship is officially over.”
Jensen laughed. “I’m in. Except . . . she’d punish us for it.”
“Unless we make it a blanket party?” I suggested.
“Where’s the fun in that if he doesn’t know we’re the ones beating the fuck out of him?” he said.
“I don’t like that he had his hands on her.”
“So don’t let it happen again.”
“Count on it.”
I rolled the empty racks back to where I’d been working and resumed the tedious task.
Later Jensen popped his head in and said, “Where are you hiding my sister?”
I glanced up. “I thought she was with you.”
“No, I’ve been by myself the past hour. We’re having a late practice now that the U of M game is over and the stadium is clear, so I’ve gotta run. Tell her I’ll see her postgame tomorrow.”
“I will. Good luck. Maybe your QB will actually use his head and throw the ball to you so you’re using those hands to catch rather than block, yah?”
Jensen smirked at me as he walked backward. “The life of a tight end is always intense.”
Martin yelled, “Dude, I know that line! It’s from Repo Man! You totally have to come over sometime and we can watch it.”
I expected Jensen to be arrogant, acting as if he was too good to ever hang out with a snowboarding stoner like Martin. I’d knock him on his ass if he said that to Martin directly. Martin was a loyal friend and a sweet guy with a good heart.
“Sounds like a plan, Martin. Maybe we could get Axl to quit playing with his stick long enough to join us.”
I shot him the finger.
“As long as he’s wearing pants.”
“I don’t even want to know what that’s about,” Jensen said. “See you later, pucker.”
The Lunds and their puck puns.
Kaz jogged over. “I’ve gotta grab my bag before we head out. You about done here?”
“Go on, I’ll meet you there. I have to say good-bye to Annika.”
“Don’t take too long,” he warned. “Igor left ten minutes ago.”
“With Dallas?”
“Yeah.”
So much for Dallas and Annika being together. I wandered through the rest of the building but didn’t see her. She wouldn’t have just left. “Where’s Annika?” I asked Martin.
“Dunno, dude. She went that way.” He pointed to a door in the corner that led outside.
“When?”
“A while ago. Relf and Boris are riding with me.”
“Is anyone else here?”
“Just you. Later.”
The situation made no sense. Annika’s purse was still hanging on the back of the chair next to her coat. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed her number. Immediately her phone buzzed in her purse.
Maybe she stepped outside to give Rausch a personal good-bye.