19
VIGGO
Stuck Between a Rock and
a Fucked Up Place
After morning skate on Wednesday, the Rebels had a team meeting to rehash Monday’s game and watch film. They’d squeaked out a win over Toronto, but it had been ugly and Coach Bohler wasn’t too happy. He’d chewed their asses out after the game and during the flight home to Denver.
“Some of you played like you had too much turkey and wine over the holidays,” he groused, pointing things out as they viewed the tape. “That was a stupid roughing penalty you took, Holden. Rookie level shit. You know better.”
Reid slumped low in his chair and ducked his head. He’d gotten an earful from his parents for the same penalty.
“Sandström,” Coach barked next. “Way too many missed shots on goal. Where the hell was your focus?”
“Sorry, Coach,” Viggo mumbled, tugging his baseball cap lower over his face. No player liked to be called out in front of teammates, and he was no exception.
But Coach was an equal opportunity ass-kicker. He didn’t care how much money you were earning or how big of a star you were. If your level of play wasn’t up to his standards, you’d hear about it. Before all was said and done, he’d called out several more players for what he deemed “stunningly boneheaded” mistakes.
After the meeting, everyone grabbed their belongings and started filing out the door. Viggo, Reid, Hunter and Logan fell into step together.
“That was rough,” Reid muttered.
Hunter grimaced. “And we won the game. Imagine how much worse it would have been if we’d lost.”
Logan grinned crookedly at Viggo and Reid. “Never thought I’d say this, but maybe you boys got a little too much pussy over the break.”
“Shut up, Brassard,” they both grumbled. But their lips were twitching.
Both were still riding high on the rush that came from being with an intoxicating woman. Viggo could barely focus on anything but the amazing four days he’d spent with Scarlett. The sex had been fucking phenomenal. The best he’d ever had. But he’d also had a whole lot of fun with her. She made him laugh. She made him feel happy and relaxed. She made him forget the demons that had dogged him most of his life. Hell, she’d nearly made him cry over a singing stuffed animal.
He was so consumed with her that he’d found himself doodling variations of her name during the meeting. Scarlett…Scarlett Rain…Scarlett Sandström.
Jesus Kristus.
He was well and truly fucked.
Logan drawled humorously, “I must say, I’m a little jealous. The most action I saw was getting my ass squeezed by Hunter’s aunt. She’s a hot MILF, but I didn’t think her husband would appreciate me banging his old lady over a platter of meat pies.”
Viggo and Reid cracked up laughing while Hunter scowled and shook his head. Logan had spent Christmas with Hunter’s family in Quebec so he wouldn’t have to travel back home before the Toronto game. Hunter’s aunt had apparently mistaken him for one of her Christmas presents.
He cast a sly grin at Hunter. “You know who I wouldn’t have minded sharing a cup of eggnog with? Your sister Geneviève.”
Hunter’s eyes narrowed menacingly. “You got a death wish?”
“No more than usual.” Logan’s grin broadened and his eyes glittered with mischief. “As the only one in the group who doesn’t have any sisters, I’d like to revisit our rule about sisters being off limits.”
“No fucking way,” the others growled.
Logan laughed.
“Gentlemen.”
Everyone turned to find General Manager Lute McCaskill striding down the hallway toward them. They exchanged curious glances as he approached with an easygoing smile.
“Good game on Monday. It wasn’t pretty, but a win is a win.” He winked. “Don’t tell Coach I said that.”
They just chuckled.
McCaskill shifted his attention to Viggo. “Got a minute?”
“Uh, sure.” He turned to the guys. “I’ll catch up.”
They gave him a better-you-than-me look before taking off.
McCaskill smiled affably, clapping his beefy hand on Viggo’s shoulder. “How’s it going, son?”
Son? “It’s going fine, sir.”
“That’s good. You’re having one hell of a season, aren’t you? Landrieu couldn’t be more pleased,” he said, referring to the team owner. “He thinks you’re a shoo-in to win your second Hart Trophy. You’re definitely playing like an MVP.”
Viggo chuckled. “I appreciate Mr. Landrieu’s vote of confidence. But we’ve still got a lot of games left to play, so I’m just focusing on winning those.”
“Of course, of course.” McCaskill clapped him on the shoulder, steering him down the hallway. “So listen, I just wanted to thank you for agreeing to participate in my niece’s charity bachelor auction next month. Audrey is really excited to be organizing the event for her women’s club. Having you on board means the world to her.”
“It’s for a good cause,” was all Viggo said.
“Yes, it is. And your participation will be good PR for the team,” McCaskill said with a hearty laugh.
Viggo stretched his lips into a forced smile. He’d been trying not to think about the bachelor auction that Audrey had hounded him about for more than a week. He’d only agreed to participate after he saw the photo of Scarlett and Leo Harry. In his anger and haste to get over her, he’d told Audrey that he was available for the bachelor auction. She got so excited that he’d immediately regretted saying yes. But it was too late to back out.
“I’m really proud of Audrey for settling into her new community and making friends,” McCaskill was saying. “I don’t know if she told you, but her mother and I have been estranged for years. We had a big falling out because I didn’t approve of the man she wanted to marry. He was a real piece of work, but my sister—Audrey’s mother—thought he hung the moon. It took years of him lying and cheating on her to bring her to her senses. She divorced the no-good bastard and took him to the cleaners. Then she packed up her things and moved here with Audrey to start over. I couldn’t be happier to have them back in my life.”
Viggo said nothing as they came to a stop by the entrance to the team’s practice facility. McCaskill still had his hand on his shoulder, and now he was peering intently into his eyes.
“I know you and my niece are involved—”
“We were. Briefly. But we’re not anymore.”
“Oh?” This seemed to surprise McCaskill. “I was under the impression that you two were still going strong.”
Viggo frowned. What the fuck had Audrey been telling her uncle?
McCaskill looked displeased. “I know how you boys like to run through women—”
“It’s not like that,” Viggo interrupted evenly. “If I had known Audrey was your niece I wouldn’t have gone out with her, if for no other reason than to avoid the very conversation we’re having right now.”
The general manager’s eyes narrowed and his lips thinned.
Tension crackled in the air between them.
“My niece’s happiness means everything to me. I’d do anything for her.” It came off vaguely like a threat. So did the hand tightening on Viggo’s shoulder.
“Audrey’s a beautiful woman,” Viggo said calmly. “I’m sure she’ll have no problem finding someone special.”
“She thought she did,” McCaskill countered with a smirk.
Taking that as his cue to leave before things got ugly, Viggo stepped back and slipped on his sunglasses. “I’d better get going. Supposed to be joining the fellas for breakfast.”
McCaskill nodded curtly, watching him through narrowed eyes. “I hope you won’t back out on the charity auction, Sandström. A commitment is a commitment.”
No vagueness this time. It was definitely a threat.
Viggo inclined his head, then turned and walked out the door.
He seethed all the way across the parking lot to his Silverado. As he opened the door and hopped up into the driver’s seat, his phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket and grumbled, “I’m on my way.”
“Cool,” Reid drawled. “We ordered your usual.”
“Thanks.”
“What’d McCaskill want?”
Viggo scowled. “I’ll tell you guys when I get there.”
“Uh-oh. Sounds ominous.”
Viggo just grunted, stuffed the phone back in his pocket and started the ignition. When the engine growled to life, he roared out of the parking lot and headed toward the diner where his friends were waiting.
He dreaded having to tell Scarlett about the bachelor auction.
The longer he could put it off, the better.