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The parents rustled again.
Warmth rushed through Myra. He shouldn’t be causing a stir like this, and she shouldn’t be letting him step up and protect her. Everything should feel off as her roles were a muddle right now. For some reason, Ike made her feel comfortable and exhilarated.
“I like it.” Beau saluted him as well. “See why I keep my buddy Ike around? He takes care of me and my girl.” He gestured to Myra. “Come on, beautiful. At least I can tell you how hot you are without worrying about Ike removing my spleen.”
“Don’t count on it.”
Beau laughed at that, and the players and coaches laughed too, maybe a little uneasily.
Myra forced herself to descend the metal staircase away from Ike. She walked confidently to Beau’s side and smiled at the players gawking at her. They’d removed their helmets and their hair was plastered to their heads. They looked a little awestruck by her. That made her smile widen. They should be awestruck by Beau. They had been initially. Beau’s arrival had caused shouting, clapping, and hooting, some of the boys even jumping around in their excitement. Then there had been respectful silence as he started talking to them. But two hours of practicing and Beau teasing and encouraging all of them had helped them relax around him.
As soon as she reached him, Beau slid his arm around her waist. He was sweaty too. Myra had grown up with animals and brothers and fought and trained with sweaty men for years. She wasn’t bothered by perspiration, but it was a good excuse to not get too close to Beau.
“You’re all sweaty,” she said, still smiling so she hopefully didn’t look bratty.
“Ah, sorry, gorgeous. These boys made me work hard.” He winked at all of them and turned her to face the team and coaches. “This is my girlfriend, Myra. Hottest and luckiest woman on the planet.” His hand squeezed her hip. Myra only felt a hand, no tingles or connection like with Ike. She didn’t dare look at Ike. Would he be glowering at Beau?
“For sure,” several of the boys called.
“Yeah, man!”
“You’re cooking, Beau!” A boy held one arm in a circle as if it was a bowl and another stirring as if he were cooking a stew or something. Funny.
She heard one of the players mutter to the other, “Do you think Beau really cheated on Bermuda Gray?”
Beau stiffened against her.
Myra smiled at the boys. She thought she should say something. Maybe that would help Beau relax. Bermuda had dumped him. To date, she didn’t think that had happened before. She didn’t blame the gorgeous actress. Beau had never been faithful to anyone. It was intriguing the self-control and discipline he had with football and his fitness level but not with women or alcohol.
“You all played amazing,” she called out. “You’re going to kill it at your games this spring.”
Beau chuckled and some of the players pulled a face.
“No games until the fall, love.”
“Oh yeah.” Her cheeks burned.
“It’s all right, pretty girl.” Beau ran his hand along her side, and she fought not to squirm. He wouldn’t call her ‘pretty girl’ if she knocked him down right now. “Football isn’t your specialty. Fighting is, right?”
Myra looked to Ike. He was studying Beau as if wondering what he was thinking announcing that she could fight. His brow furrowed.
“Hey, guys. Do any of you like to fight?”
Most of them cheered. The coaches shook their heads.
“My sweetie could knock any of you on your butts. She knocked me flat on my back.” He leaned in, giving her a worshipful look and kissing her cheek, far too close to the side of her mouth. “So incredibly sexy.”
Myra tensed, from the kiss, from him announcing that she could fight, from him calling her ‘sexy’ as if she were some object. She knew she was, to him and to these boys, and she hated it.
How many parents or kids would take pictures or videos and post this? Yet if Charli and Fitz had assigned her to be Beau’s pretend girlfriend, they knew photos or videos would get posted of her by his side. It would limit her undercover jobs until the hype died down and Beau moved on. Thankfully both would take about ten minutes after the job was finished.
Her gaze flitted to Ike. His arms were folded across his chest and he didn’t look thrilled, but he wasn’t storming down here to tell Beau to knock it off either. He was discreetly scanning the crowd and then the entrances. She did the same but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“Who wants to fight my girl?” Beau called out, grinning at her and then turning to the football team.
The players and coaches exchanged looks.
“Um, sir,” a smaller kid said. “Our coaches and parents have taught us not to fight girls, and we actually got banned from fight night.”
