Page 72 of Jesse and the Ice Princess
Every single person in the room cheered.
He looked to his daughter. "Charlie, you're playing on the right side of the first line with Jesse and Roman. I know you've had a long day, so we'll go easy on your minutes."
"I can do this... Coach." She smiled on the last word.
He laughed. "I'm sure you can. All right, team! Let's get out there!"
Jesse smiled as each guy on the team patted Charlotte on the back and either called her Charlie or Morrison, showing her she was one of them.
"Jesse," Coach called. "Just a moment."
Charlotte sent a panicked look as she left without him.
"Yeah, Coach?"
"Take care of her out there."
He knew what his coach meant. Charlotte may have the kind of skill no one else on the team possessed, but she'd never been crunched into the boards before. Part of him wanted to say she could take care of herself—because she totally could—but this was different.
He nodded. "I'll take care of her." Did the coach hear the double meaning he hadn't meant to put in his words?
If he did, he let it slide. Instead, he knocked Jesse on the side of the helmet. "Bring us home a win."
This all started because Jesse wanted a win—just one. He knew his team needed to feel that kind of joy, that kind of pride. But as he stepped out onto the ice, he wondered if they'd already felt it.
They were more a team than they'd ever been.
20
Charlotte
"Charlie Morrison."
Charlotte's head jerked up as she heard the announcer call her name. Damien gave her a push. "Go, that's you!"
Yep, she was now a starter for the Gulf City Hurricanes. If she didn't trip over her own feet. Roman and Jesse already stood at center ice preparing for the anthem. She stopped to the right of Jesse as they called out the defenseman and goalie.
Her hand flexed around her stick and sweat soaked the inside of her gloves as she gripped the edge of her jersey. Her jersey. The one that said Morrison on the back. The one her father had made for her last minute. She'd wanted to cry when he gave it to her before the game, but there were no tears in hockey.
Well, there were probably a lot of tears, they just didn't admit it.
Her lips twitched up as she lifted her eyes to the cheering crowd. Her helmet slid back, but she fixed it, securing it tighter around her face. Could they tell she was a girl through the metal cage each player on both teams wore?
She'd twisted her hair up into the helmet to keep it out of the way, but she was smaller than any of the other guys. Her gaze slid along the opposing team, the guys who'd come for her as soon as they dropped the puck.
The anthem finished, and Jesse lifted his chin in question.
She nodded in response. She was ready. So ready.
Jesse won the face-off, sliding the puck back to a defender. As a unit, they moved up the ice. The first time the puck hit her stick, she grinned, knowing this was exactly where she was meant to be.
* * *
Charlotte had never been sotired in her life. All the training, the years of skating, couldn't have prepared her to play a full hockey game only hours after a figure skating competition.
But she wouldn't let it stop her.
She sat on the bench breathing heavily as the third line lost the puck. Again.
