Page 79 of Ice Princess

I whip my head around to fix Gordie with a disapproving look.And this is why children should be seen and not heard.

Renthrow clears his throat and awkwardly scolds, “Gordie, I told you to stop going around saying things like that.”

“But Gran said you wouldn’t get me a new mommy on your own. She said you needed help.”

Renthrow’s face turns pink. I’ve never seen our winger so embarrassed.

The little girl nods as if the decision has been made. “I want Rebel. She’s really pretty. All the kids at school will be jealous if she’s my new mom.”

“Your dad can’t have Rebel,” I explain as gently as I can.

“Why not?” Gordie pouts.

“Because she’s mine.”

Rebel’s eyes widen.

“Please.” Gordie sticks out her bottom lip.

I shake my head.

“Pretty please with ice cream and cherries on top?” The bottom lip sticks out so far, I can use it as a shelf.

“Gordie, that’s enough,” Renthrow scolds.

Renthrow’s daughter is adorable, but I stand firm. “I’m not giving her up for anything.”

Rebel starts coughing.

Renthrow is massaging his head like he has a whopper of a headache.

But Gordie and I are two bulls in the middle of a coliseum. She takes after her dad, who’s relentless on the ice. And I’m barely holding on to Rebel Hart as it is.

Neither of us budge.

Gordie’s eyebrows slash over her stubborn brown eyes. “Ms. Nancy says it’s nice to share.”

“Toys. Not people.”

“But—”

Rebel breaks us apart. “Alright, that’s enough. Gordie, do you want to come with me and get a sandwich from the food truck?”

Gordie nods eagerly, her two pigtails thrashing. At this age, her priority is food over setting her dad up with a new girlfriend.

I’ll take it that I won the argument.

I set Gordie on the ground and Rebel accepts the little girl’s hand. Neither of them look at me as they skip toward the food truck.

The guys part to make way for Rebel and Gordie, allowing the ladies to order ahead of them. One by one, Gordie high fives the players like she’s a celebrity at a sports event. And, honestly, she is. The kid’s a rockstar.

“Sorry about that,” Renthrow grumbles, walking over to me. “My mom’s been pushier than normal lately. She’s my mother and I love her, but she’s a bad influence on Gordie.”

I shrug. “It’s fine.”

Renthrow’s mouth twitches. “Is it though? You seemed real insistent that I don’t take Rebel from you.”

I cough and glance at the food truck. Rebel is under the shade of the food truck’s awning. She has Gordie hoisted up so the little girl can watch the chef work.

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