Scoring with the Wrong Twin (Ice Chronicles Hockey #2)

19. Blaze

19

Blaze

I’m back at the barn the next morning and it’s quiet now, the tension from earlier somehow still lingering in the air.

My jaw aches from Blake’s punch, and my ribs feel bruised, but none of that matters. The fight was pointless. No punches thrown can settle what’s between us.

But Savannah? She’s not pointless. She’s the one thing worth fighting for, even if I’ve gone about it all wrong.

I lean against the stall door, staring at the open field bathed in moonlight. She’s fire and chaos, strength and vulnerability, all wrapped up in one maddeningly beautiful package. And for some insane reason, she makes me want to be better.

For her.

But how the hell do I fix this? She’s made it clear she doesn’t want anything to do with me or Blake until we figure our crap out. Problem is, I’m not willing to wait. Not when I might lose her.

I grab my phone, scrolling through the headlines Carl sent earlier. Blaze Ice: Hockey’s Reformed Bad Boy Finds Love? The media’s eating up the fake engagement, painting me as some kind of redemption story. It’s working for me—and for Savannah, too. If we end it now, the fallout would be brutal. For both of us.

An idea starts to form, and before I can talk myself out of it, I’m heading toward the guesthouse. I stop at the kitchen on the way, grabbing two mugs of coffee. It’s a peace offering, sure, but it’s also strategic. Savannah’s easier to deal with when she has caffeine.

When she opens the door, her eyes narrow, her arms crossed over her chest. “What do you want, Blaze?”

I hold up the coffee. “Truce?”

She eyes me suspiciously but steps aside to let me in. “You’ve got five minutes.”

I set the mugs on the small table and sit, motioning for her to do the same. She stays standing, her gaze sharp enough to cut steel.

“Savannah,” I start, trying to sound confident but not overbearing. “I’ve been thinking—”

“That’s new,” she cuts in, her tone dry.

I can’t help but grin. “Cute. But seriously. We need to talk about the engagement.”

Her expression darkens, and she folds her arms tighter. “I was hoping we’d be done with that.”

I shake my head. “We can’t. Not yet.”

“Why not?” she snaps. “Because it’s helping your career?”

“It’s not just about me,” I say, leaning forward. “This is about you, too. If we call it off now, the media will have a field day. They’ll dig into everything—why it ended, who you’re seeing next. And if that’s Blake…”

Her face tightens, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. I take a deep breath, softening my tone. “Look, I’ll respect whatever you want in the future. But for now, this is what’s best for both of us.”

She hesitates, chewing on her bottom lip. “And what exactly are you proposing?”

“We double down,” I say, my voice steady. “More public appearances. A charity event at the ranch. I haven't given up on that idea. We play the part until the festival ends, then figure out where to go from there.”

Her eyes narrow. “You make it sound so logical. Almost like you’re not trying to win me back.”

I freeze, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Is that what you think?”

She shrugs, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Well, for someone so confident on the ice, you’re really bad at hiding your intentions.”

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Fair. But I’m serious. This is about keeping things clean—for both of us.”

She studies me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she sighs and sinks into the chair across from me. “Fine. I’ll do it. But on one condition.”

“Name it,” I say, relief flooding through me.

“You keep your distance,” she says firmly. “Emotionally.”

The words sting, but I nod. “Deal.”

We sit in silence for a moment, the weight of the agreement settling between us. Just as I’m about to get up and leave, her phone buzzes. She glances at the screen, and her entire demeanor shifts. Her shoulders tense, her face going pale.

“Savannah?” I ask, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly, shoving the phone into her pocket.

“That didn’t look like nothing,” I say, my tone softening. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she snaps, standing abruptly.

I stand too, blocking her path. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to handle it alone.”

She glares at me, her fists clenched. “I said I don’t want to talk about it, Blaze.”

I don’t back down. Instead, I reach out and pull her into my arms. She stiffens, fighting me for a moment, but then something in her breaks. Her body relaxes, and she buries her face in my chest, her shoulders shaking.

“I’m so tired,” she whispers, her voice muffled.

“I know,” I say softly, resting my chin on top of her head. “I’ve got you.”

She doesn’t cry for long, but it feels like forever. When she finally pulls back, her eyes are red, but there’s a hint of fire in them again. “I’m fine,” she says, straightening her shoulders.

I nod, stepping back to give her space. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

She doesn’t respond, just brushes past me and heads for her room. The door clicks shut, leaving me alone in the silence.

As I walk back to the main house, I can’t stop replaying the moment in my head. The way she let herself lean on me, even for a second. The way she pulls herself back together, stronger than ever, even when the world is falling apart around her.

Savannah’s worth every risk, every complication.

And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to her. Even if it means playing the long game. Even if it means waiting.

***

The saddle creaks as I settle onto Wildfire, the horse’s muscles rippling beneath me. His energy matches mine today—pent-up, ready to bolt. The sun hangs low, casting long shadows over the ranch as I guide him toward the trails. The ride is meant to clear my head, but instead, it feels like the weight of everything—Savannah, Blake, the goddamn fake engagement—is pressing harder.

We hit the ridge overlooking the festival grounds when I spot a truck parked near the perimeter. It’s too far off the main road to be casual. My gut tightens. Only one man around here has the audacity to trespass on Ice Ranch property.

I nudge Wildfire forward, closing the distance. Sure enough, standing near the truck, inspecting the fence line, is James Davidson. His posture is casual, but there’s something about the way his hand lingers on the fence post—testing it, maybe—that screams bad intentions.

“Davidson!” I call out, my voice sharp as a whip. Wildfire shifts beneath me, sensing the tension.

James turns, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Blaze Ice. Should’ve known you’d come riding in like some cowboy hero.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” I keep my tone steady, but my hands clench the reins tighter.

“Just admiring the view,” James says, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “It’s a damn shame how much this place has gone downhill. Thought I’d see what all the fuss was about before the festival.”

“You mean before you try to sabotage it?” I dismount, striding toward him, every step deliberate. “Cut the crap, James. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but it ends here.”

James chuckles, leaning casually against the truck. “Always so dramatic. You think I’ve got nothing better to do than mess with your little carnival? Please.”

My jaw tightens. “If you touch so much as a blade of grass on this land, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

His grin doesn’t falter, but there’s a flicker of menace in his eyes. “Careful, boy. Threats like that can get you into trouble. And trouble’s something you’ve had plenty of, haven’t you?”

I take another step closer, closing the distance between us. “You want trouble? Keep pushing.”

The tension is the kind that could snap into violence with a single word. Before it can, the sound of hooves cuts through the air. I glance back to see Jake, Emma, and little Violet approaching on horseback.

“Blaze?” Emma’s voice is cautious as they slow their horses.

James’s eyes shift to them, his grin returning. “Well, well. The whole family’s here for a reunion.”

“Get out of here,” I growl, standing my ground.

He shrugs, heading for his truck. “Don’t worry, I’m leaving. Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.” As he climbs in, he leans out the window, smirking. “Be careful, Ice. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out here. And some dogs bite harder than others.”

The truck roars to life, kicking up dust as it speeds off. I watch him go, my hands still fisted at my sides.

“What was that about?” Jake asks, his brow furrowed.

“Nothing,” I mutter. “Just another bastard from that family.”

Emma pulls her horse up beside me, her eyes narrowing. “Not all of them are bad.”

I glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “You defending the Davidsons now?”

She doesn’t answer, but her look says plenty. Even Jake is giving me a sideways glance like I’ve said something out of line. I shake it off, turning my attention to Violet.

“Hey, kiddo,” I say, reaching up to ruffle her curls. She giggles, reaching her tiny hands toward me. “You want to ride with Uncle Blaze?”

“Ride!” she squeals, and I can’t help but smile.

Jake hands her down, and I swing her onto Wildfire in front of me, holding her steady as we trot a few steps. Her laughter is like a salve, easing the weight in my chest.

“You’ve got the magic touch,” Jake says, his voice light but tired. He looks at Violet like she’s his whole world, and I get it. That little girl is everything to him. I can’t imagine what it must be like to raise her alone.

Later, as the sun dips lower, I’m riding back alone, Violet’s laughter still echoing in my head. But the moment doesn’t last. The sound of hooves behind me pulls me back to reality.

Blake.

He catches up quickly, his horse snorting as he reins it in beside Wildfire. His expression is tight, his eyes sharp with accusation. “We need to talk.”

“Not in the mood, Blake,” I say, nudging Wildfire forward.

Blake keeps pace, his tone hardening. “I’ve seen all the articles.”

I stiffen but don’t respond. He presses on. “The engagement. You really think that’s going to work out? Or are you just letting Savannah play us both?”

I stop, turning to glare at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Blake’s jaw tightens. “She’s stringing us along, Blaze. First, she thinks she’s with me. Then it’s you. Now she’s all over the media with this fake engagement. You don’t think she’s using this for attention? Free publicity for her 'baby,' Pinnacle?”

“Watch your mouth,” I snap, my voice low and dangerous.

“She’s manipulating us, Blaze,” Blake says, leaning closer, his voice rising. “You don’t see it? She’s got you wrapped around her finger, playing the tortured bad boy while she keeps me on the back burner.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I growl, dismounting and stepping into his space. “Savannah’s not like that.”

Blake swings off his horse, closing the distance between us. “Then explain it! Why else would she go along with this circus? Why else would she pit us against each other?”

“Maybe because she’s stuck in the middle of our crap,” I snap. “This isn’t about her, Blake. This is about you and me.”

Blake’s eyes narrow, his voice dropping. “It’s always about you, isn’t it? Always about Blaze Ice, the one who screws up and drags everyone else down with him.”

I take a step closer, the air between us crackling. “You think this is easy for me? You think I like this rivalry you’ve been nursing for years? Get over it, Blake. Savannah’s not playing us. You’re just pissed because she chose me.”

The words hit their mark, and Blake’s jaw clenches. For a moment, I think he’s going to throw another punch. Instead, he takes a step back, his chest heaving. “You’re so damn blind, Blaze. You can’t even see when someone’s using you.”

He mounts his horse, his movements sharp, and glares down at me. “You better figure it out, brother. Before she tears us both apart.”

With that, he rides off, leaving me standing in the growing darkness, his words cutting deeper than I’d like to admit.