6. Aubrey

6

Aubrey

Wandering around this postcard-perfect ranch, I've got to admit, there's a charm to it that even my city-loving heart can't ignore. The rolling hills, the wide-open skies—it's like stepping into one of those feel-good movies where the protagonist finds herself, and maybe love, in the most unexpected place.

Despite the whirlwind of emotions, a tiny voice in my head whispers, "Not bad for a getaway, Aubrey."

Stumbling upon Emma and Luke with the cows turns out to be the highlight of my day. Luke's ecstatic, treating every moo like it's a personal shoutout, and honestly, it's the kind of pure joy that's infectious—even for a die-hard urbanite like me.

Emma catches my eye from across the field. "He's practically ready to move in with those girls," she jokes, watching Luke with a mix of delight and gentle concern.

"Yeah, I might have to update his resume: experienced cow whisperer at the tender age of two," I shoot back, unable to resist joining in on the fun. But as our smiles fade, Emma's keen gaze finds mine, and she offers a lifeline I didn't even realize I needed.

"If you want to steal a moment for yourself, I've got Luke covered. Consider it your ranch-style spa retreat," she suggests, her voice laced with warmth and an understanding that goes beyond words.

The offer is a balm to my frazzled nerves. "Emma, you might just be my favorite person right now," I say, my gratitude mingling with the relief of knowing Luke is in good hands. "A ranch-style spa retreat sounds like exactly what I need."

Leaving Luke in Emma's capable care, I take my leave, feeling lighter with every step.

Back in the sanctuary of my room at the Airbnb, I finally have a moment to myself—a moment to dive into the digital world and piece together the puzzle that is Sean Ice. With his real name now in my arsenal, the gates of information swing wide open, and what I find is a mix of the impressive, the tragic, and the downright scandalous.

First up, the shooting that cut his promising hockey career short. The articles paint a picture of a rising star, a talent unmatched on the ice, brought down in the blink of an eye. It's heart-wrenching, really, the kind of twist you'd expect in a sports drama, not real life. I can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him, for the dream derailed so violently.

But then, the narrative shifts. The next few years of Sean's life read like a tabloid's dream: nights out on the town, flings with models, and a reputation for partying that would make any rockstar proud. Sean Ice, the playboy of the post-hockey world. It's a far cry from the dedicated athlete who once graced the ice, and a stark contrast to the man who's just proposed a family unit out of the blue.

It’s not all bad. Turns out that his hockey career isn’t totally over. A year or so ago, he was signed by a minor-league team, the Milwaukee Mavericks. The Ice Ranch is situated about right between Chicago and Milwaukee, so the team seems a natural fit. Sure, it’s not the NHL, but at least he’s still in the game.

And finally, the pièce de résistance: the latest article, featuring a tell-all from the most recent girl caught in his charm offensive. It's like watching a car crash; you know you shouldn't stare, but you can't look away. This article, more than anything, solidifies his status as the man about town, leaving broken hearts in his wake.

Sitting back, I close my laptop, feeling more confused than ever. Who is Sean Ice, really? The dedicated athlete cut down in his prime, the relentless party-goer, or the man who dropped to one knee in the kitchen, proposing marriage and a family? And more importantly, what does this mean for Luke and me?

Digging deeper, my fingers fly over the keyboard, driven by a mix of curiosity and caution. What I uncover next adds layers to the enigma that is Sean Ice. Photos surface of him attending church, standing beside his dad, Jack Ice, embodying the image of a devoted son. The stark contrast to the playboy persona depicted in other tabs on my screen is jarring.

There's more. Articles and mentions of Sean volunteering at various charities, giving back to the community in ways that don't quite fit with the image of a man whose life revolves around nightlife and fleeting connections. It's as if for every story that paints him in the light of the tabloids' favorite bad boy, there's another that showcases a commitment to values and community.

"Who the hell is this guy?" I mutter to myself, staring at the screen. The question echoes in the room, unanswered. Sean Ice is a mosaic of contradictions—on one hand, the hockey player whose promising career was cruelly cut short, leading to years of what seemed like aimless wandering. On the other, a man who, despite his own struggles, hasn't turned his back on the upbringing and values instilled in him by his family.

Is he a good guy who lost his way in the aftermath of tragedy, or a bad guy who's mastered the art of public appearances? The more I learn, the more complex the picture becomes, leaving me unsure of where the truth lies.

As I lean back, my gaze drifting away from the computer, the weight of the decision before me settles heavy on my shoulders. Bringing Sean into Luke's life is a gamble, one with stakes higher than I've ever faced. The risk isn't just to my heart but to the well-being and stability of our son. Can I trust the Sean who knelt in the kitchen, proposing a family, or will the shadows of his past loom too large, threatening the safe, steady world I've built for Luke?

As the gears in my head click into place with a realization as bright as a neon sign, it dawns on me: it's time for a heart-to-heart with Mr. Ice, as soon as freaking possible. Lucky for me, destiny—or maybe just good timing—has him jogging back, looking every bit the athletic ad in motion. I lean out the window, hollering down like we're in some sort of rom-com, "Hey, Sean! Pow-wow time. You in?"

He glances up, and I swear the surprise on his face is almost comical, quickly swapped out for his signature grin. "Sure thing, but I'm warning you, I'm bringing the full post-run aroma with me. If you're brave enough, I'm all ears."

Cue my internal swoon as he strides in, all sweaty charm and rippling muscles that should come with a warning label. Running gear has never looked so good, and for a moment, I'm distracted by the whole 'hot athlete' vibe he's effortlessly throwing around. Get it together, Aubrey, this isn't about his biceps or how those muscles work with each step.

"Park it," I say, motioning to a seat, doing my best to sound like I'm all business and not at all thinking about those running shorts. The air's buzzing, like we're both aware we're skirting around a minefield of unspoken things and heavy looks.

"Alright, Sean," I launch in, trying to steady my voice against the tidal wave of his presence. "This isn't just about us. There's a little dude who kind of expects us to act like adults here."

He settles, and I catch a glimpse of something softer, more real behind those eyes of his. "Yeah, I get it. Let's talk.”

Switching gears like I’m behind the wheel of a Ferrari, I channel my inner professional—Aubrey Lane, marketing maven, at your service. “So, let me introduce you to my world a bit. There’s Savannah, my business partner and the yin to my yang. She’s a wizard at what we do, but there’s a tiny snag—she’s about as direct as a horoscope when it comes to telling clients they’re their own worst enemy.”

I lean forward, locking eyes with Sean, letting him know that the fun and games are taking a backseat. “Me? I don’t share that problem. I’m all about the straight talk, especially when it comes to self-sabotage. And buddy, you’re the poster child.”

I watch as Sean’s expression shifts from amused curiosity to a dawning realization that this conversation is taking a very different turn. “Let’s unpack the Sean Ice special, shall we? The excessive partying, the playboy rep, the tabloid target practice—you’ve got more issues than a magazine stand.”

He starts to interject, probably with a witty retort or a defense, but I’m on a roll now. “No, hear me out. This isn’t just about you anymore. There’s a little guy in the picture now, and the last thing he needs is to Google his dad only to find a highlight reel of not-so-great moments.”

Sean leans back, the grin finally wiped clean off his face, replaced by a look of someone who’s just been served a cold dose of reality. “Aubrey, I—"

I hold up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. “I’m not saying this to be harsh. I’m saying it because if we’re going to work together—professionally and personally—we need to start with a clean slate. And that means tackling the elephant in the room head-on.”

The tension’s thick, but so is the newfound understanding. I can see the wheels turning in Sean’s head, the realization that this isn’t just another flirty back-and-forth.

Sean gears up for a comeback, but let’s be honest, it’s about as convincing as a toddler denying they ate the cookie while covered in crumbs. “Aubrey, it’s not like—" he starts again, but I'm having none of it.

I cut him off with a wave of my hand. "Oh, please. Save it for the press, Ice. I've seen train wrecks cleaner than your recent history. And that's saying something."

He looks like he's about to dig his heels in, ready to launch into a full-on defense worthy of a courtroom drama.

"We're going to have to pull out all the stops, Sean. Your reputation needs a makeover worse than a 'before' picture in a home renovation show," I tell him, not mincing words. "I'm talking full-on reputation rehab. And trust me, it's going to be a workout."

For a moment, I see it—the stubborn set of his jaw, the flash in his eyes. Sean Ice is gearing up to be as stubborn about this as he's been about everything else. But just as we're bracing for round two, a distraction comes barreling into the room, and it's not one either of us can ignore.

Emma bursts in, concern etched all over her face, and right there with her is Luke, wailing like it's the end of the world.