Page 192 of Ice Princess

And all I ever want to be is the daisy in her hands.

CHAPTER

FIFTY-SEVEN

REBEL

April is alreadyat the makeshift garage when I arrive the next morning. Chance and his expensive lawyers are still working to undo Stewart’s attempt to shut us down.

Turns out, lawsuits aren’t as cut and dry as they appear in the movies. They can take weeks or months or even years if there’s no settlement.

On the bright side, being outdoors isn’t so bad now that we’ve rigged up a generator and attached giant standing fans to chase away the severe, late morning heat.

The scent of engine oil wafts from a car’s rusty gears.

Ah.Smells like home.

April’s bent over the open hood of a truck, eyes locked on a tablet screen that’s spitting engine readings via waveforms.

“Morning!” I sing.

“Morning. You’re in a good mood.”

“It’s good to be outside. ‘Touch grass’ as they say.” I grin as I set my pink tool box on a plastic table that Mauve allowed us to sneak away from the Tuna. Then I set my surprise down on top of the tool box.

April notices what I brought. “Ooh! Donuts. Phil’s?”

I pause for dramatic effect and then say slowly, “Marnie’s.”

April doesn’t drop the tablet. Shethrowsit on the table and flies over to me. “Phil’s mom?Theoriginal donut queen? The legend who came up with the recipe for Phil’s chocolate donuts? I thought she retired after handing the shop over to Phil?”

“Marnie still bakes, but only for a select clientele aka the Kinseys.”

When Gunner showed up with the box this morning and acted like getting Marnie to bake him donuts was no big deal, I was torn between being extremely touched and extremely irritated.

Sure, I knew the Kinseys have wealth, deep connections and the respect of the entire town, but I thought doughnuts were safe. Turns out, there’s still a difference between the social classes even with sugary treats.

April rushes to wash her hands and sinks her teeth into a doughnut. The moment she takes that first bite, her eyes roll back and she groans, “Man, it must be good to be a Kinsey.”

“If Gunner wasn’t my boyfriend, I’d probably stage a one-woman protest over this,” I murmur, taking a more polite bite.

“Oh? Are you and Gunner okay now?”

I blink innocently. “We were always okay.”

“Is that why you were walking around on auto-pilot for the last couple days?”

“Was I?”

“Sometimes, you worked like a monster on steroids. Other times, you’d just be staring into space.” April dusts her hands on her navy jumpsuit. “Chance said that Gunner was the same at practice. What happened?”

“A… lot.”

“Oy.”

Leaning closer to my best friend, I share everything about the will, Clarence Kinsey, and my agreement with Gunner to give ourselves some space to think.

“Last night,” I continue, “Gunner and I had a long conversation and we decided to protect each other no matter what happens.” I smile sappily as I remember his romantic words in the couch, followed by his big hands grabbing my hips and putting me on his lap while he gave me a kiss that set my entire body on fire.

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