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“Yeah, it should be. I’ll be helping a lady win a million dollars for her charity with some kind of weeklong challenge that needs a retired special ops hero as fabulous as myself. Great exposure for me, right?”
Ike smiled. Most security ops in the world wanted anonymity, didn’t want their face to be known. Not Aiden. He wanted ‘good press,’ to ‘protect with style’ and to ‘be more famous than Sutton.’ Interestingly enough, Sutton was Aiden’s confidant and hero. Aiden had worked for him for two years as part of ‘the plan’ to learn from him and his incredible organization. Sutton wholeheartedly supported Aiden and his plans. He was the second-best man in the world in Aiden’s opinion, next to Ike. Their dad may have passed both Sutton and Ike up in Aiden’s mind, but he was no longer in the world.
“For sure,” Ike said.
“I’ll call when I’m done.” Aiden paused. “Be smart, bro.”
Be smart. Never—lead with your heart or listen for inspiration. No way. Those sentiments had died with his mom for Aiden and his dad.
“I’ll be praying for you,” Ike said.
“Okay.”
Aiden wasn’t antagonistic against God or religion, but he was too tough to need anybody else guiding his life. Their dad had done plenty in that sphere. Who needed the Holy Spirit in his head when he already had their dad telling him every step he should take?
Ike wished at some point they could have an open discussion about their dad controlling them from beyond the grave. The problem was, Ike didn’t know how to muddle out what was brilliant advice from their beloved father and what was unreasonable, so how could he talk to even Aiden about it?
“Take care,” Aiden said, ready to move on from the prayer comment.
“You too.” Ike slid the phone off and pocketed it.
Sadie had always thought it was heartbreaking that Aiden and Ike obviously loved each other and would do anything for the other, but they never said those three words.
On Sadie’s advice, Ike had tried it once at the end of a phone call. It was the most awkward silence he’d ever experienced in his life. With the person he was most comfortable around. Aiden had mumbled, ‘you too,’ and hung up. Neither of them had ever mentioned the slip-up.
Now he smiled thinking about how unemotional he and Aiden both were. They were both naturally alpha males, but in different ways. Ike like a too-serious Rambo and Aiden, of course, was similar to the charming James Bond.
Ike had select memories of his mom kissing him on the forehead and whispering she loved him. Then she’d died. He couldn’t remember if he’d even said it back. How unnatural was that? A little boy who adored his mom but didn’t say he loved her back? His dad had been loving and supportive with them, but he’d focused on praise for their skills, not saying I love you.
The memories continued as he stood on the veranda and searched the perimeter of the dance floor and the dancers, knowing exactly where Myra was at every given moment.
He’d told Sadie he loved her. When he’d asked her to marry him and twice after that when she had prompted him to. He’d whispered it against her cold, hard cheek as she lay in the casket not looking like his Sadie at all—too pale, too much makeup, no sweet smile. He’d kissed her cheek and said goodbye to innocent and sweet love, and any hopes of a relationship leading to marriage for him in this life. He could still hear her mom, sister, and aunts sobbing when they closed that casket. So final. So heartbreaking. He hadn’t cried. Even Sadie’s dad and brother-in-law had cried, albeit a lot more quietly than the women. The entire family had looked at him as if he didn’t have a heart. He hadn’t seen any of them since. They were probably right about his lack of a heart. A machine didn’t have a heart.
Pushing away all the unwanted, painful memories, he checked for anything out of place outside and then strode back into the clubhouse. Though his eyes were trained to see everything and everyone, he instantly pinpointed Beau and Myra. Still dancing. If he wasn’t so irritated by their dancing, he could admit they looked fabulous together. But he was far past irritated.
His gaze swept the room more carefully, keeping his face carefully neutral and not making the sweep obvious. No noticeable threats. All happy, smiling people. Except … his eyes returned to a stunning blonde. Someone else was watching Beau and Myra dance. Bermuda Gray. She hadn’t been at dinner.
Interesting. An idea percolated in his mind. A reckless idea and the exact opposite of what Aiden or their father would want him to do. He wasn’t progressing his relationship with Myra; that would be stupid. He was simply giving a fellow op a break. He couldn’t imagine how miserable tonight had been for Myra, having to pretend to be Beau’s girlfriend and let him touch her nonstop. If the guy kissed her on the lips, Ike would end his football career.
He took a deep breath. Again, the opposite of what he should be thinking after his conversation with Aiden and memories of Sadie and the fact Myra was Beau’s pretend girlfriend in public. Ike was too hardened for a relationship anyway. Any fool could see that.
But he could help Myra and maybe even help Beau. Rumor was Beau still loved Bermuda and claimed he’d never cheated on her, despite the obvious proof. The few comments Beau had made today backed up those rumors.
Before he could second-guess himself, Ike strode around the room and stopped in front of Bermuda. She looked him over quickly and gave him a welcoming smile. “Hello.”
“Hi. Would you like to dance?”
“I’d love to.”
Ike offered his hand and the famous actress placed hers in it. He wrapped his right hand around her lower back, forcing himself to act natural. It was a lot easier to be in combat than to calmly dance, but his dad had taught him both. Bermuda placed her manicured and jeweled hand on his shoulder, and he waltzed her into the throng of dancers.
“You’re here with Beau,” she said before Ike could offer his name. She didn’t care what his name was anyway. She was dancing with him because she’d seen him with Beau.
“Yes,” he admitted.
Beau and Myra were twenty feet to their right. He was covering ground a little bit faster than they were. He had to intercept at just the right moment and angle.
Look natural, but don’t miss the target.
