Chapter 24
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
GUNNER
I follow Rebel down the steps of the trailer. The bright, morning sunshine glints against a caravan of parked cars. To the side, in a grassy lot across from the mobile homes, is a bright blue food truck.
The shutter above the window is rolled all the way to the top. Two chefs wearing white hats and clear, plastic face masks wield a spatula expertly.
“Kinsey!” Theilan waves. “I want a food truck for my birthday this year!”
“It really is an entire food truck…” Rebel shakes her head. “How much did it cost?”
I keep walking.
She scrambles to keep up with me and hisses, “Gunner.”
Thankfully, Watson grabs our attention by yelling loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear, “I get first dibs!”
Theilan takes off at a breakneck speed. “Oh no, you don’t!”
He and Watson start a stampede as everyone in the team hustles to the window of the food truck.
Theilan and Watson get there first, placing their orders ahead of everyone else.
By this time, the neighbors are poking their heads out of the windows and spectators are gathering on the street to watch the activity.
I push past the gathering crowd to get to the line of vehicles.
Max is on the phone a couple paces away.
Renthrow is climbing out of a pickup with Gordie in his arms. I jog toward them, surprised to see Gordie on site.
“Uncle Gunner!” Gordie fixes her tiny hands into finger-guns and makes the cutest sound effects. “Pew-pew.”
I smile and return the gesture. “Pew-pew.”
She spreads her arms wide, and I take her from her father, balancing her on my hip. Gordie grabs my face and gives my cheek a kiss. “When are we playing video games again?”
“I’ve been a little busy.” I hoist her higher on my hip and promise, “But I’ll swing by as soon as things calm down.”
Gordie’s sparkling brown eyes move past me and fasten on the woman at my side. “Hi, Rebel.”
“Hi, Gordie.”
“You’re so pretty.”
Agreed.
I take the opportunity to run my eyes over her. Rebel’s hair falls around her shoulders in thick waves. She’s wearing a simple pink tank top and a pair of knee-length, cream pants. Even in casual loungewear and barefaced, she looks effortlessly stunning.
“Like really, really pretty,” Gordie adds.
From the mouth of babes.
“Thank you.” Rebel grins and draws closer to Gordie, but that, effectively, brings her closer to me too. Her arm brushes mine as she rubs Gordie’s back affectionately. The scent of Rebel’s flowery, citrus perfume winds around me like a magic spell.
We’d been this close a second ago, but Rebel had seemed to be on edge. With her focus on Gordie now, she’s a lot more relaxed.
“Do you want to date my dad?” Gordie suddenly offers. “He’s single.”
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.
My heart warms when I see Rebel sharing one of her brilliant, sincere smiles with Gordie. Her entire demeanor seems softer and more approachable when she’s with the little girl. I bet she’d make an amazing mom.
Even better if she was the mother of my future children.
Whoa. Did I really just think that?
“I guess it’s serious between you two,” Renthrow says, watching me and then Rebel.
Uncomfortable with where my thoughts are leading, I don’t answer that and slap him on the back instead. “Fuel up. We’ve got a lot to do today.”
I pretend not to notice his thoughtful look and walk toward Max. The team manager is finished with his phone call now and is standing with his back to the rest of the team, his shoulders slumped.
“Something wrong?” I ask Max quietly.
He flashes me a quick glance and then shakes his head. “I reached out to some of my old college buddies, hoping I could get us some more sponsors. None of them bit.”
“I was thinking about our sponsorship issue. Have you ever thought of finding a sponsor in the city?”
“Of course I did. I’m not an idiot.” Max’s voice bristles with frustration. “I was schmoozing and dining all the usual potential sponsors before I’d taken office. No one was interested.”
“Try again.”
“Why?”
“Things have changed.” I recall Ann’s excitement while waiting on us and the way everyone had yelled out to me as I passed table after table. “Being the biggest fish in the smallest pond has its advantages. I’d reach out to the sponsors again.”
“Alright. I’ll give it a shot.” He checks his watch. “Should we get started?”
I nod.
Max approaches the team that’s gathered around the food truck, chatting, eating and drinking. He claps his hands to get their attention. Max is about the size of a bear and his paws are twice the size of my own. The clap gets everyone’s attention.
“Pack it up, team. I didn’t cancel morning practice so we could prance around eating sandwiches. We’re here to sweat, burn calories and help our community.” Max glances at me, indicating I should take over.
I meet Rebel’s crystal blue gaze. “Rebel, what would you like us to do first?”
“Um…” Her eyes wander to the ground and I see her take a deep breath. When she lifts her head again, her stare is firm and direct.
The bold and confident Rebel is back.
“I’ll need twelve guys on the school building. Two on the basketball court.” She takes big strides forward, explaining what she wants to happen in each area for today’s community service.
As she moves, I get the sense that this is no longer a Lucky Strikers event.
We’re in Rebel Hart’s garage now.
“Did you all get that?” Rebel asks, her voice strong and sure despite it originating from her delicate, beautiful frame.
“Yes, ma’am!” Theilan yells.
Watson points at me and then gestures to Rebel. “Gunner, you sure you can handle all of this!”
Rebel’s lips curl up in my direction. Her eyes crinkle at the corners. It’s the closest she’s ever come to really smiling at me and my heart thuds in that strangely familiar way.
“Let’s get to work!” Rebel orders.
While everyone jogs off to get to their tasks, a fancy black car drives up to the food truck. It looks completely out of place amidst all the rugged pickups and four-wheelers nearby, so I stop and take notice.
The door pops open and a frazzled voice says, “Am I late?”
My entire body goes rigid when a man hops out of the car and lopes over to Rebel. At first, I can’t place him. But after a few seconds, it clicks.
It’s the suit from the luncheon, the one who’d looked at Rebel like he could also see her as the mother of his children.
“Benji?” Rebel gasps, her eyes going wide and her smile puttering to new heights.
The guy doesn’t stop moving and I wonder if he intends to plower Rebel down. But he doesn’t.
Instead, the idiot wraps my girl in a hug that instantly has me seeing red.