Page 9 of From Helsinki with Love
“Really?”
His surprised voice makes me narrow my eyes. “What?”
“Well, it’s where I’m heading too. So, tell me, Vivian, why is a woman like yourself traveling alone to Finland only days before Christmas?”
I like how he calls me Vivian, even though I said he could call me Vivi. My full name sounds divine on his lips. “Oh, you know, the usual. Just thought I would sit on Santa’s lap and ask him for a new toy.”
That sounded worse than in my head.Fuck.But luckily, Jasper laughs heartily at my comment, holding his stomach. “I see. How about sitting on a hockey player’s lap? There’s one available right here.”
My cheeks turn redder at his very direct flirting. I’m not used to it from men. But I still say, “Maybe I’ll try it later.”
“I’ll keep the offer open if you change your mind.”
* * *
As I finish my drink after our conversation, an announcement echoes around the space:Good evening. Finnair flight AY16 to Helsinki will be ready for boarding shortly at gate 38. Passengers are kindly requested to proceed to the gate. Thank you.
I realize it’s my flight and get up. The hockey hunk, sorry, Jasper, is doing the same. I glance his way and smile. “Want to walk together?”
“Sure, why not? Besides, my dad taught me never to say no to a pretty woman like yourself.”
I laugh, thanking him for the compliment as we gather our luggage and walk out of the lounge area. I’m about to go to the nearest screen showing where gate 38 is when Jasper speaks. “I know the way. Follow me.”
I do as he says, wondering something. “Why don’t you have a Finnish accent?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I was wondering why you don’t have the Finnish accent. We had an exchange student from Finland in high school, and he had a stronger accent than you. You sound more American with only a hint of something else. But I could barely tell what.”
He readjusts his black Patagonia backpack. “I went to elementary school in the US before my family moved to Finland, and then I moved back for college and stayed for NHL. I have lived longer outside my home country than actually in it.”
“That’s cool. What do your parents do if you don’t mind me asking?” A look of puzzlement crosses his face, so I clarify. “I was just wondering because you said your entire family moved across the pond. It’s a big move to make.”
Jasper nods like he gets my point. “They are—well, they were—professional athletes as well.”
That’s intriguing. Athleticism must run in the Åkerman family. “Oh? Tell me more.”
Jasper hesitates for a moment, not saying a word. I almost take my words back when he speaks.
“My parents are two famous Finnish athletes—Nils Åkerman and Anne Salo-Åkerman—an ice hockey player and a figure skater. They met during the 1992 Olympics, and I was born less than a year later.”
“I love that—if that isn’t a perfect meet cute, I don’t know what is!”
He clears his throat. “Anyway, my dad played in the NHL until I turned thirteen, and we moved back to Finland so that he could coach one of the local teams. He, um, retired from coaching this fall.”
His entire posture and expression harden as he says the last part. I know there’s more there, but I have so many other questions for him, so I continue, “Was it hard for you to adjust?”
“Not really. We spent all summers in Finland with my paternal grandparents anyway, and I could play hockey wherever I wanted, so it was all good. My sisters were young, too, so it was easy.”
“Oh, you have sisters? I have always wanted siblings, but I’m an only child,” I admit.
“Two of them, Linnea and Elise. They are eight and ten years younger than me, so they were little when we moved back to our homeland.”
“And how old are you?”
“I’ll be thirty next month.”
I should have known that based on the fact that he was born less than a year after the 1992 Olympics. “Oh, okay. I’m twenty-eight myself.”
