Page 73 of Daddies on Ice
Watching Tish with her daughter never fails to do something to my chest.
The gentle way she wakes Becky up, how she helps her get dressed in a red sweater with a reindeer on it, the patient way she brushes the little girl’s hair.
There’s something so fundamentally right about seeing her in mom mode that it makes my heart ache.
The hotel’s childcare center is decorated like a winter wonderland, complete with paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling and a small Christmas tree surrounded by wrapped boxes that are probably empty but look magical to little eyes.
Becky runs off to join the other kids without a backward glance, already distracted by the toys and activities.
“She’ll be fine,” Tish murmurs, but there’s tension in her shoulders that wasn’t there yesterday.
The hotel cafeteria buzzes with the quiet chatter of early morning guests.
Christmas music plays softly in the background, and the smell of coffee mingles with cinnamon rolls and bacon.
We find a corner table away from the other patrons, and I wait until Tish has wrapped her hands around her coffee mug before pressing for answers.
“Okay, we’re alone now. Talk to me.”
She takes a shaky sip of her coffee, and when she looks up at me, those dark eyes are filled with something that makes my stomach drop. “Someone’s been watching us, Ash. Taking pictures.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. “What kind of pictures?”
“The kind that could ruin everything.” Her voice drops to barely above a whisper. “Someone put them in an envelope under my door this morning. Photos of us together—you and me, Jake and me. Intimate moments that were supposed to be private.”
Rage builds in my chest, hot and fierce. “Show me.”
She pulls out her phone with trembling fingers. “I didn’t want to bring the originals, but I took images of them.” She slides her phone across the table, and what I see makes my blood run cold.
The photos are grainy but clear enough. Tish and me kissing by the broken-down bus. Her and Jake laughing together at the club.
“Son of a bitch.” The words come out as a growl, and several nearby diners glance our way. I lower my voice but can’t contain the fury. “Who sent these?”
“Unknown number. But Ash, there’s more.” She swipes to the next image, and my heart stops. It’s a photo of her in her hotel room, taken through the window. She’s in pajamas, completely unaware she’s being watched.
The protective rage that floods through me is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Someone violated her privacy, made her feel unsafe, and every instinct I have screams for blood.
“This is connected to everything else that’s been happening,” I say, my mind racing. “The sabotage, the equipment going missing, the bus breaking down. Someone’s targeting the team, and now they’re targeting you.”
“But why me? I’m just the PR person.”
“Because you matter to us. To me, to Jake, to Carl. Whoever’s doing this knows that hurting you hurts us.” The admission slips out before I can stop it, and her eyes widen slightly.
She reaches across the table, her fingers brushing mine.
The contact sends electricity shooting up my arm. “What if it’s not about the team at all? What if it’s personal? Jake has a lot of…admirers. What if one of them thinks we’re really together and they’re jealous?”
The thought hadn’t occurred to me, but it makes sense.
Jake’s reputation with women is legendary, and not all of his past encounters have ended amicably. “It’s possible. But this feels bigger than a jealous ex-girlfriend.”
“There’s something else.” Her voice drops even lower, and she glances around the cafeteria nervously. “I think Trent is getting suspicious about us. About all of us.”
The bottom drops out of my stomach.
Trent—her brother, my best friend, the one person whose opinion matters more than anyone else’s. If he’s starting to piece things together, if he realizes how I feel about his sister…
“What makes you think that?”
