Page 81 of Ice Me Baby

She points over her shoulder with a smirk. “You’re between Dannielle and me.”

Samantha climbs back into the car after Ietting me hop in the middle. I look between the hockey wives, taking in their large bellies; they are due any day now. “Almost to the finish line, right?”

They both nod as they rub a hand over their belly. “If the boys don’t arrive in the next week, they will induce labor.”

“I really hope it doesn’t come to that,” Samantha whines, patting her belly before adding, “I know it’s comfortable in there, but Mommy wants you to come out and see the world. It’s beginning to feel a little tight in there.”

“I told you to try some of those old wives' tales to see if that helps,” Cheryl says over her shoulder.

Samantha groans. “Ever since we had sex a few weeks ago, and he swore the baby grabbed his dick, he won’t touch me.”

I can’t help but laugh. “He does know that’s not possible right?”

She raises an irritated brow before saying, “I’ve tried to explain that to him, but he swears up and down that the baby grabbed his dick. The man is too stubborn for his own good.”

I turn toward Dannielle. “What about you?”

She gives me a sour look. “Doug told Max what happened, and he’s locked up his cock too.”

The car erupts in laughter as we pull up to the shopping center and park. We begin to file out of the car, but before I get far Cheryl snatches my hand.

My eyes are wide as I meet her grinning face. “You’re not getting out of this shopping spree.”

I groan but let her drag me toward the shop where you can buy any jersey you could possibly want or need. “You don’t think it would be weird for me to wear a jersey with just one of the guys' numbers?”

She clucks her tongue. “If you’re sitting with us, you will be a proper cheerleader for your boys.”

I grunt but accept that I’m going to be dragged into this no matter what I say. Though, to be honest, I don’t hate the idea of wearing our team's jersey’s. But how am I supposed to decide what number to wear?

Cheryl releases my hand and gently smacks my butt. I look over my shoulder with an arched brow, but she just grins. “Get shopping!”

Rolling my eyes, I look around. There are several jerseys with Dean’s number as well as several with Mac’s number. It feels like a betrayal to choose one over the other, though.

Continuing to wander around, I finally find a customizable jersey. Smirking, I decide that’s the winner and make my way up to the woman at the counter. “Can I get this customized by tonight?”

She arches a brow before shrugging. “As long as it’s not too difficult, I should be able to.”

“Can you put Monroe as the last name on the back, along with the number sixty-nine?”

The woman smirks. “Sixty-nine?”

I nod and continue, “And can you put the number thirty-five on one sleeve and eleven on the other?”

Her smirk widens, but she nods. “Sure. I can do that. Give me a few hours to get it done. If you give me your phone number, I can text you when it’s done.”

I nod and pay, then give the woman my number to let me know when it’s ready. As I make my way out of the store, my eyes meet Cheryl’s. She arches a brow and says, “I don’t see a jersey.”

I point behind me as I reply, “I’m having it customized.”

“Well, do we get to see it before tonight?” Samantha asks with a smirk of her own.

I shake my head. “You girls will just have to wait and be surprised like the guys.”

It’s odd being on this side of the boards. I’m impressed we were able to get seats in front, so the players will immediately see us as they skate in. Rock music blares through the rink, and I hold my breath as the players are announced.

The moment Dean’s name is called, the crowd goes wild. He takes to the ice, his eyes searching the crowd before they land on me. He grins and makes his way over, taking in my jersey.

He bangs a hand on the glass before making a swirling motion, telling me to turn around. I spin, and when my eyes meet his again, he’s sporting a wide grin before pointing to the sleeve with his number.

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