Page 11

11

Jake

The smell of fresh coffee, sizzling bacon, and something sweet—probably cinnamon rolls—fills the kitchen as I step inside. The morning light streams through the wide windows of the ranch house, casting long golden streaks across the worn wooden floors. The Ice family breakfast table is already full, the usual chaos in full swing.

I roll my shoulders, still tight from last night’s festival brawl, but the sight in front of me is enough to pull a smirk from my lips.

Sean is wrangling Luke into his chair, the four-year-old bouncing with the kind of energy only a kid who just inhaled orange juice and a sugar-coated donut could manage. Blaze is flicking sugar packets at Blake, who dodges them while attempting to pour coffee. Savannah is curled up against Blaze’s side, looking entirely too amused with the scene, and Aubrey is already playing referee.

Dad, as always, sits at the head of the table, a newspaper in one hand, his coffee in the other. But his eyes are twinkling over the rim of his mug as he takes it all in, enjoying every second of the morning madness.

Then there’s Emma, sitting between Pokey and India, rubbing sleep from her eyes while balancing a fork in one hand and her phone in the other. She’s typing something—probably an email or a message to one of her professors.

“About time you got here,” Blake says, shoving a plate in my direction. “Figured you were nursing your bruised ego after getting bought like livestock last night.”

I take the plate and drop into my seat, smirking. “Jealous I went for a thousand bucks, brother?”

He snorts. “Jealous? Hell no. Just impressed you got Piper Reed to fork over that kind of cash. I didn’t think she liked you enough to spend ten bucks on a burger with you, let alone a grand.”

“She doesn’t like me,” I say, stretching out my legs under the table. “That’s what makes it fun.”

Savannah shakes her head, laughing. “You two are such children.”

Sean reaches for the coffee pot. “Speaking of the auction, I’d like it noted for the record that I did my duty by marrying Aubrey, thus eliminating myself from this public humiliation.”

Aubrey pats his arm. “And I’m very proud of you, honey.”

“Well, since we're creating a record,” Blake says, raising his mug in mock seriousness, “I’d like noted that I would have gone for twice what Jake went for—had the only woman in town with deep enough pockets and questionable enough taste to want me actually shown up.”

“Oh, God,” Blaze groans. “Mrs. Cunningham?”

Blake grins. “She’s had a thing for me since I was nineteen.”

“She’s like fifty-five,” Emma says, wrinkling her nose. “That’s older than Dad.”

Dad sets down his paper and lifts an eyebrow. “And?”

Emma huffs. “Gross.”

“Disrespectful,” Dad mutters, flipping a page.

Blaze chuckles. “At least she’s loaded, Blake. Maybe she’ll buy you a new truck.”

“I don’t need a truck,” Blake says, winking at Savannah. “I need therapy after last year’s dance floor incident.”

Aubrey groans. “Oh no. I forgot about that.”

Emma smirks. “She groped his ass in front of half the town.”

“Full-handed, no hesitation,” Blake confirms. “Like she was checking for ripeness.”

The entire table erupts into laughter while Blake glares at all of us. Savannah wipes a tear from her eye. “I swear, if that woman brings wine to the next bake sale, we’re leaving town.”

“Next year she’s bidding on you,” Blaze says, grinning. “You know it.”

Blake sighs, rubbing his temples. “I accept my fate.”

Dad shakes his head. “At least it’s just a harmless old lady flirting with you. You don’t have to worry about some psycho trying to take over your land.”

Silence settles over the table for half a second before Sean, ever the responsible one, clears his throat. “So, Davidson showed up last night.”

Dad’s face darkens, but he keeps his tone even. “Yeah, I heard.”

Blake leans back, shaking his head. “Not just him. Carter was there too.”

I don’t miss the way Emma stiffens slightly, though she doesn’t look up from her phone.

Sean scoffs. “Kid’s got it bad for Em.”

“Not happening,” Blaze says flatly.

“Not a chance,” I add.

Emma groans, dropping her phone. “You guys are being ridiculous.”

Blake leans forward, eyes narrowing. “Tell me he’s not trying to get close to you.”

She sighs. “We go to the same college. We’ve worked on some projects together. That’s it.”

Sean doesn’t look convinced. “Davidson’s kid or not, we all know his dad is a snake.”

Emma shrugs. “Maybe Carter isn’t.”

Blake scoffs. “Doubtful.”

“Even if he is, it doesn’t matter,” I say. “He’s still a Davidson.”

Emma crosses her arms. “And I’m an Ice. That doesn’t mean I’m some hockey-obsessed lunatic.”

Blaze lifts a brow. “Em, our last name is Ice. Hockey’s not just a sport—it’s a personality trait.”

“Shut up.”

I shake my head, but the thought lingers. Carter looking at Emma like that? Not happening.

I push away from the table, grabbing my coffee as I head outside. The morning noise fades behind me—plates clinking, silverware scraping, someone arguing about syrup. It’s loud in there, and most days I like it. But not today.

Today, I need a second to breathe.

Out on the porch, Aubrey is already on the swing, a mug of tea in hand. She doesn’t say anything at first, just nods in greeting as she watches Luke and Violet playing near the fence. The sun catches Violet’s curls—red-gold and wild like always—and she shrieks with laughter as Pokey chases her in loose circles.

“She’s growing up too fast,” Aubrey says, glancing at me.

I sigh, rubbing my jaw. “Tell me about it.”

There’s a long beat of quiet between us before she speaks again, her voice gentler now.

“Have you heard from… her?”

I don’t have to ask who she means. My stomach tightens, but I shake my head. “No.”

She frowns. “Not even a single message?”

“Nope.”

Aubrey exhales, shaking her head. “I just don’t understand how someone could do that. Just disappear.”

I grit my teeth. Neither do I.

“Marnie was never going to be a mother,” I finally say. “I should’ve known that before Violet was even born.”

Aubrey’s eyes soften. “It’s a shame.”

I take another sip of coffee, watching Violet dance barefoot in the grass like it’s her kingdom.

She’s nearly two now—toddler wobbles mostly gone, curls bouncing as she runs, that purple dress with the crooked hem flaring out like a tutu every time she twirls. She tosses handfuls of grass into the air like it’s stardust, squealing when it catches the sunlight. Like it’s magic.

Marnie’s missed every bit of this.

Violet’s first smile. Her first laugh. Her first tooth. The night she took her first steps across this very yard—right into my arms, giggling like she’d won the lottery. The world stopped that night. And Marnie wasn’t there.

She never was.

She didn’t even hold her at the hospital. Just stared at the ceiling, blank-faced, while the nurse handed Violet to me.

Two days later, she packed one bag, dropped out of college, and disappeared.

No visits. No calls. Not even a text on Violet’s first birthday.

“She needed space to find herself,” she said, like motherhood was something she could shake off with a breakup speech.

And yeah, maybe I should’ve seen it coming.

“Yeah, it is a shame, indeed,” I say quietly. “But Violet doesn’t need her. She’s got everything she needs right here.”

Aubrey nods. “She really does.”

I drain the rest of my coffee and exhale, the silence between us settling deep.

A car pulls into the driveway, and Emma comes outside, waving. “Piper and Madison are here!”

Violet looks up at the sound of the car doors slamming shut. Pokey, in his usual excited state, bounds toward them—only to nudge Violet in the process.

She stumbles, and before I can move, Piper is already there.

She scoops Violet up effortlessly, swinging her in the air, making silly noises to keep her from crying.

I freeze.

Violet doesn't like strangers. She screams whenever someone unfamiliar picks her up.

My pulse kicks up. But now? She’s not crying.

Piper adjusts her on her hip, brushing hair from Violet’s face. “You okay, sweetheart?”

Violet nods. She’s giggling—full, bubbly laughter that melts something in my chest.

I don’t know how Piper did it. But in five seconds flat, she just did what no one else has.

I step forward, lifting Violet from her arms. She lets out a small whimper but doesn’t fight me.

As I take Violet, Piper's scent hits me—something warm and sweet, like vanilla mixed with sunshine. My fingers brush against hers in the handoff, and for a split second, I notice how her shirt clings to her curves, how a strand of hair falls across her cheek. She tucks it behind her ear, and the simple gesture sends an unwelcome surge of heat through me. Damn it. This woman just connected with my daughter in a way no one else has, and all I can think about is how her lips felt against mine at the auction. How her body would feel pressed against mine again.

For half a second, I wonder what it would feel like to have her looking at me the way she's looking at Violet.

Not helpful.

I force my gaze away, focusing on my baby. This isn't about attraction. This is about my daughter.

Piper watches, eyes curious. “She’s yours?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

She looks surprised. “I didn’t—”

Aubrey steps in smoothly. “We should head inside. Breakfast is still warm.”

Piper’s still close, chatting with Madison as we all head toward the house. I glance at Emma, lowering my voice. “Hey, can you watch Violet tonight? I’ve got that… date to take care of.”

Emma smirks. “Oh, you mean your thousand-dollar date?”

I roll my eyes. “Just say yes.”

She laughs. “Fine. But I expect payment in the form of kettle corn.”

“Done.”

We all walk toward the house together. Piper lingers near Madison, chatting quietly, until we step into the warm buzz of the kitchen.

“Hi, everyone,” she says, offering a polite wave. “Thanks for having us.”

Dad lowers his newspaper just enough to peer over the rim. “You girls driving back and forth every day for the festival?”

Piper shakes her head . “Our place’s not really that far. We live at Madison’s parents’ house—it’s their old place near campus.”

Dad sets down his coffee. “You know this place isn’t just a ranch, right?”

Piper tilts her head. “No?”

“We run a small resort here too—cabins, horseback tours, that kind of thing.”

Madison perks up. “Is that what the big building near the barn is?”

Dad nods. “That’s one of our Airbnbs. It’s usually packed for the festival, but one of the two-bedroom suites just opened up early.”

Piper exchanges a glance with Madison. “Seriously?”

“It’s quiet, has a view of the pool and the trails, and it’s a lot closer than commuting every day. You’re welcome to use it any night you want while you’re helping with the festival—or whenever you just need a break.”

Madison lights up. “That’d be amazing.”

Piper smiles. “Yeah. Thank you. That’s really generous.”

Dad folds his paper. “Happy to offer it.”

I watch her, still rattled by how easily she handled Violet.

This was just supposed to be a game. So why the hell does it feel like she’s starting to fit into my life in ways she shouldn’t?