Page 189 of Ice Princess

A moment later, a beautiful voice sounds from inside Mrs. Reynold’s apartment.

“Remember not to light your granddaughter’s scented candles with the windows closed. It sets off the smoke detector and makes everyone really worried.”

“Yes, yes, I understand,” the older woman replies impatiently.

I almost fall to my knees with relief when Rebel walks out. She’s dressed in a soft pink tank top, white shorts, and the bunny slippers from last time.

Rebel notices me. “Gunner? What are you doing here?”

I move on autopilot. In three steps, I’m in front of her. Then I wrap her in my arms and bury my face in the crook of her neck and shoulder. “Thank God you’re okay.”

Rebel melts against me. As her hand settles on my back, my chest loosens and I take my first real breath in what feels like days.Finally.I squeeze my eyes shut, bundling her closer, closer, closer. Like I’ll never get enough.

Because I won’t.

“Oh, oh my,” a thin voice warbles. “Gunner Kinsey, how dare you rub your love in the face of an old, single woman! Go! Hug it out elsewhere. Shoo!”

Rebel laughs when the door slams shut behind the old woman.

I stare at her.

She blushes slightly. “What?”

“You’re beautiful,” I say simply.

The blush gets a little brighter as she rubs at a stain on my collar. “My lipstick got on your shirt.”

I swoop in and give her a quick peck.

Rebel blinks, stunned.

I pull back. “Fixed it.”

“Huh?”

“Now my lips match my shirt.”

Rebel swats at me, laughing softly. “Gunner Kinsey.”

Man, I love when Rebel says my name.

I take her hand and lead the way to her apartment.

Rebel swings my hand back and forth, her eyes sparkling. “Why are you here? Did Theilan and Watson tell you I was in trouble or something?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I wasn’t.”

I grunt.

“You need more reliable spies, Gunner.”

To be fair, we’re good at hockey, not security. I wanted dad to put a protective detail on Rebel, but he can’t legally dispatch officers until my uncles threaten or actually hurt Rebel.

Ridiculous.

I, legally, have to wait until the woman I love gets hurt before doing anything about it? Not a pig’s chance in a frying pan. The Lucky Strikers were not the best option, but they were theonlyoption.

---