Ice Daddy by June Winters

Author:June Winters [Winters, June]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-28T16:00:00+00:00

***

“It's ready!” Paige happily called while plating the dinner for three: breaded and pan-fried Chicken Milanese, Irie's favorite macaroni and cheese, and steamed broccoli with olive oil and a touch of garlic.

“That smells great,” Lance said as he rose from the love seat. He carried Irie with him.

“Don't get too excited,” Paige said. “I had to learn to cut down on seasoning basically everything I cooked, or Irie won't eat it. All my cooking is pretty bland now.”

Lance lowered Irie into her high chair—or tried to, anyway. Once Irie realized she was being set down in her chair, she screamed and kicked her legs, refusing to be put down. Paige had seen this behavior before, of course. Some days, Irie was feeling too clingy for her chair and demanded to sit in Mommy's lap instead.

So Paige did what came naturally; she took Irie from Lance's arms and put the child in her lap. But to Paige's surprise, Irie's lamentations only grew louder. She bawled, her arms outstretched for Lance.

“Wow,” Paige muttered. “I think she wants to sit in your lap while she eats. Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Lance said, wide-eyed with honor.

Paige couldn't blame Lance—but for Mommy, Irie's preference came like a small punch to the gut. She felt stupid for feeling the sting of rejection, but she couldn't help it. She'd never seen her daughter choose someone over Mommy.

Sure enough, Irie calmed the instant she was in Lance's arms again. Between bites of his own, the hockey player delivered airplane forkfuls of food to Irie's mouth. Irie chewed and swallowed her bite, then laughed up a storm as the next forkfuls came crash-landing to her mouth. Irie didn't give Lance any of the dinner time fits she sometimes gave her Mommy. Right now, Lance was probably thinking that this whole parenting thing was a breeze.

God, am I getting jealous of my own daughter? Paige wondered shamefully.

“She really likes you,” Paige said quietly. “She's getting attached to you, Lance.”

She was fully aware of how much that sounded like a warning—because it partly was. Lance didn't reply. His head was bowed, intently watching his daughter as she chewed a bite of the pan-fried chicken.

“Lance?”

Slowly, he looked up, a sullen look on his face. “I have to fly back to Boston tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.” Paige's heart shattered—for Irie's sake. She'd hate to see the two separated, but this was the inevitable part of the night where the athlete proved to be unreliable. “I thought you could stick around longer because of your suspension.”

Lance shook his head somberly. “No. I have to report back to the team tomorrow. I can't miss any practices, work outs, or meetings …”

“Oh. Figures.” Paige's fork seemed to weigh ten pounds in her hand. She lowered it to her plate with a clang. “It was nice having you around for half a day. But I guess you could never be around for longer than that, could you? You're always going to be traveling around the world, living in hotels, going out to clubs and doing who knows what.

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