Page 13 of Icebreaker

"No, not at all, and it gave me some time to admire the menu."

Axel's face lit up as he opened it and began to scan the options. "Yeah? Did you notice anything in particular?"

"Well, I'd heard about the gravlax. I've never had it before. What exactly is it?"

An unexpected gentle smile appeared on his face. "It's a traditional Swedish dish. It's cured salmon, usually seasoned with dill and mustard sauce. My farmor always made it for important events."

"Farmor?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. That means grandmother in Swedish." Axel fiddled with his water glass. "She was a phenomenal cook. Taught me all about Swedish food."

I breathed out, relaxing at seeing this new side of him. "She sounds wonderful. Did you have any other favorites?"

A wistful gaze blossomed as Axel spoke about his home country. "Oh, she made all the classics. Köttbullar, Swedish meatballs and Janssons frestelse, a potato and anchovycasserole, are amazing. I also can't forget her pepparkakor. They were ginger cookies we had at Christmas.

The passion in his voice riveted my attention. "I wish I had those kind of memories in the kitchen. My grandparents always made fried chicken or burgers and fries, assuming that's what Maggie and I liked.

"It's never too late to start." The direct honesty sent an electric jolt up my spine.

Perhaps we were talking about more than food. "Yeah, you're right…I think."

Our server arrived at the table. Axel took the lead, pointing out his favorites, asking me questions, and making recommendations based on my answers. I couldn't remember the last time someone cared so much about what I'd eat for dinner.

I breathed deeply as the server walked away, carrying our menus. The hard part was over. I'd gotten Axel to go out to dinner with me, and he was talking, sharing, and maybe even flirting a tiny bit. It was time to relax and enjoy the food and his company.

While we waited for our meals, I decided to be fearless and ask a personal question. "Axel, please tell me about your family. Do they still live in Sweden?"

He looked down for a moment and fidgeted with his napkin. "Not anymore. My sister is on the East Coast, and my dad just moved here to Portland. He was a fisherman his whole life and is now retired. Tough as nails, but he has a heart of gold."

Axel's father had sounded like the perfect one for him. I'd imagined a weathered face with Axel's dark eyes. "He sounds like a great man. And your mom?"

A dark shadow briefly passed over his face, and his jaw tensed. "She…um…she died when I was six. Cancer."

My eyes opened wider as a wave of empathy crashed over me. "Oh, man, I'm so sorry. That's hard."

He shrugged it off, but the pain was evident in his eyes. "It was long ago, and I was almost too young to remember. My memories of her are vague. She left a few things behind…favorite perfume, and we have one home movie with her in it. I'll never forget the sound of her voice and laughter from that."

Instinctively, I reached out and covered his hand on the table. "That's huge, and I'm sure it was tough for you and your dad when you were growing up."

"What about you? Are your parents…"

I swallowed hard. I thought I'd prepared myself when I asked him first about his family, but the tears still welled up in my eyes. "They are both gone. It was a car accident when I was sixteen, a drunk driver."

Axel turned his hand over and wove his fingers together with mine. "Fuck, Quinn. That's…hell, hard to think about that."

I blinked back the tears while his heartfelt response touched something deep inside me. "It's been several years now, but…it still hurts. There's part of me gone now, and it's never coming back."

Axel nodded. He stroked my knuckles with his thumb. "I know. You've learned to live with those empty spots, but nothing will ever fill them up."

We sat in silence while the weight of the shared pain settled over us. Somehow, it didn't feel so heavy with it out in the open. It was like Axel helped me carry it.

Our food arrived just in time to distract us from our intense emotions. The gravlax was beautiful on the plate—thin, almost transparent slices of salmon arranged in a spiral with a bright green sauce.

Axel watched as I took my first bite. The fish was silky and cool on my tongue, and I smiled when the sauce chased it with a bright, tangy flavor.

My eyes fluttered shut, and I moaned. "Oh, my God, this is fantastic."

When I opened my eyes, I saw a handsome grin on his face. "Right? It looks a little fancy, but I bet it still tastes like home."

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