Page 39
Story: Scoring with My Dirty Dare (Ice Chronicles Hockey #3)
39
Jake
We were supposed to crash Davidson’s investor meeting. Three days from our last Ice Family Snake Oil war room. With hidden cameras, fake buyer aliases, and a bombshell property lie or two ready to detonate.
But he moved early.
Now we're all here—Dad at the head of the table, looking like he's aged ten years since breakfast; Sean and Blake flanking him like war generals; Emma and Blaze opposite each other, both uncharacteristically quiet. Even Sawyer's here, having shown up to drop off some paperwork for Dad right as the news broke. He's standing awkwardly by the window, caught in a family crisis that's not quite his but not quite not-his either.
This morning, while half of us were still editing our fake buyer personas and Blaze was testing a lapel mic on the chickens, Davidson hosted a private "preview" event for his top-tier backers.
No flyers. No county notice. No open invitation. Just a discreet little tour on the back pasture and a champagne toast at noon.
We found out from a screenshot.
Anonymous burner email. No message. Just a photo of Davidson standing on our land, toasting three men in suits with a white banner behind him that read: Welcome to WestView Estates.
Now the Ice family kitchen feels like a funeral.
Emma’s pacing with her laptop open. Blake’s on the phone with the zoning office. Sean’s muttering about real estate loopholes and filing dates. Dad hasn’t said a word in ten minutes.
And I’m trying not to break the coffee pot by accident.
“He wasn’t supposed to do this yet,” Blaze says, voice too loud. “The permits weren’t even approved. We were going to catch him in the act.”
“We were going to record the act,” Blake corrects. “Now the act’s over.”
Emma looks up. “The official event is still scheduled for tomorrow. But today was the real pitch. He already met with investors. That was the move. He’s baiting us with the decoy date.”
“Jesus,” Sean mutters. “He played us.”
Dad finally speaks. “He adjusted the timeline without any notice. Not even the commissioner knew. Which means either Davidson’s psychic—”
“Or someone told him we were coming,” Blake finishes, tight.
The room goes still.
No one says it. Not yet. But the implication thickens the air.
Blaze sinks into a chair. “We had a locked plan. Timing, names, even wardrobe. Only people in this house knew the details.”
Emma nods. “Including the exact investor meeting we planned to infiltrate.”
“And Davidson just happens to move it up one day?” Blake shakes his head. “That’s not luck. That’s intel.”
Sadie drifts into the room with an iced latte and perfect hair like she hasn’t heard a word. “So… what’s the panic? Did someone burn the ranch down?”
Blake doesn’t look at her. “Where were you this morning?”
She blinks. “Um… at the spa? Which I booked a week ago. Want the receipt?”
“Spas have Wi-Fi,” Emma says, soft but cutting. “So does your phone.”
Sadie raises a brow. “Are you accusing me of something?”
“You knew the plan. The date. The investor angle,” Blake says. “You were in the room.”
“I was barely listening,” she shoots back. “And even if I was , what would I gain?”
Evelyn appears next, sunglasses perched on her head like she just stepped out of a catalog, her presence as unexpected as it is unwelcome.
Blake frowns. "Aunt Evelyn. I didn't realize you were still here."
"Just passing through," she says, smiling too brightly. "Thought I'd check on everyone. You all look so... intense."
"What's going on?" she asks, too breezy.
“We had a plan,” Dad says. “Davidson beat us to it.”
Evelyn frowns. “Oh? That private meeting thing?”
Blake’s head snaps up. “You heard about that already?”
She freezes. “Well, it’s all over town, Jack.”
“No,” Emma says quietly. “It’s not.”
That shuts her up for a second too long.
Blaze folds his arms. “Funny. Because unless you’ve got a scanner in your purse, there’s no way you knew about the timing.”
Evelyn’s smile tightens. “I have friends at the club. People talk.”
“Like Davidson?” Blake presses.
“Excuse me?” Her voice sharpens.
“You’ve had lunch with him before.”
“Once. Two years ago. At a charity gala.”
“And again last month,” Emma adds. “At the Heritage Council mixer.”
“I was seated next to him. I didn’t choose the table.”
Sean leans forward. “Then how’d you know today was the real event?”
Evelyn’s gaze flickers. “I didn’t. I assumed it was all part of your little sting operation.”
“And yet, you knew it happened this morning ,” Blake says.
She turns to Dad. “Are you really letting your children interrogate me like this?”
Dad stays silent.
Sadie huffs. “This is ridiculous. Just because Davidson outmaneuvered you doesn’t mean someone here betrayed you.”
“Except it does,” Emma says. “Because no one else knew what we were planning.”
“And it’s not just Evelyn or Sadie,” Blake adds. “Piper knew some of the details too.”
I freeze.
My hands clench under the table, a cold sweat breaking across my back. The mere suggestion that Piper might be involved feels like a physical blow.
“She wasn’t in the meeting,” I say. “I told her after. Privately.”
Blake raises an eyebrow. “Then she still knew.”
Emma cuts in quickly. “Jake, no one’s accusing her. But if Evelyn or Sadie overheard something—or someone else passed it along—we have to consider every angle.”
Sadie glares. “So now I’m leaking to Davidson through my boyfriend’s ex-roommate’s cousin? Jesus.”
“No one’s saying that either,” Dad says, but his voice is strained.
Evelyn adjusts her blouse with exaggerated calm. “Well. Clearly, this conversation’s become unproductive. Sadie, darling, let’s go. Our lunch reservation’s in twenty.”
“Let me guess,” Blake says. “At the same country club where Davidson golfs?”
Sadie flips her hair. “You people need therapy.”
But neither of them denies it.
When they’re gone, the silence lingers.
I stare at the printout on the table—Davidson and his investors, raising their glasses where our cattle should be. It feels like a slap.
Dad finally moves, turning to us with steel in his eyes. “We lost this round. But the war’s just getting started. I want everything from that preview event—names, photos, license plates, social media posts. If someone so much as sneezed in a cowboy hat near that property, I want to know.”
Emma nods, already typing. “On it.”
Blake checks his notes. “We pivot. We hit the permit board directly. No more showboating. We go for the jugular on paper.”
Sean adds, “And I’ll call the commissioner. He’s going to want to know he got played too.”
Dad nods. “Good. Keep your heads down. No more leaks.”
But my head’s not in the room anymore.
Piper’s name flashes on my phone screen. Missed call.
I don’t even remember it ringing.
I step outside, heart racing, guilt crawling up my throat. Because this isn’t just a failed plan. It’s a breach. A leak. And if Evelyn or Sadie really are in Davidson’s ear… then anyone close to me could be in the blast zone.
Even Piper.
And if I told her something—anything—that helped blow this operation, I’ll never forgive myself.
I call her back immediately. Voicemail.
“Hey. Call me when you get this. Something’s going on… I just wanna make sure you’re good. Please.”
I hang up and stare at the land stretching out beyond the porch. The pastures. The house. The legacy.
I pace the porch, my mind flashing back to three nights ago—Piper in my arms, both of us breathless after making love. How she'd traced my tattoo with her fingertips, asking about the ranch, about my family's history here. How easily I'd told her everything, from Dad's expansion plans to Davidson's threats.
"You really love this place," she'd whispered.
"It's more than land," I'd said. "It's our legacy. Our future."
She'd gone quiet then, her eyes unreadable in the dim light. Had I said too much? Had she seemed distracted afterward? My memory feels suddenly unreliable, tainted by suspicion I don't want to feel.
I stare at Piper's contact photo, remembering how easily conversation flows between us, how much I've shared with her about the ranch, about my family. Not the specific plan, but enough context that someone clever could piece things together.
No. The thought of her betraying me makes my stomach turn. There has to be another explanation.
No. Not Piper. She wouldn't betray me like that.
Would she?
My chest tightens as I take it all in—the rolling hills, the fences my grandfather built, the barn where I taught Violet to feed the chickens. This land isn't just dirt and grass. It's memories. It's future. It's everything the Ice name stands for.
And someone just tried to take it.
Davidson thinks he can win with money and timing. With whispers and sabotage.
Fine.
He just declared war on the wrong family.
This isn’t over. Not even close.
It’s a long game now.
One where trust is a weapon, and loyalty gets tested every time someone knocks at the door.
And we’re not losing another inch.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39 (Reading here)
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55