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“There’s more,” Ike said, sounding even more reluctant.
“More? Charli and Fitz are asking a lot, eh?”
“Yes, they are.”
He went around several cars and didn’t tell her what the ‘more’ was. What could be worse than posing as Beau Alexander’s girlfriend?
“Ike?” she ventured.
“We’re to pose as a couple when we’re around Beau, his staff, or security guards.”
“A couple? You and I?” Her voice pitched up and her heart slammed against her chest. Pose as a couple? Hugging? Kissing? With Ike?
Yes! I love you, heaven!
No! She couldn’t pose as a couple. Not with him. Especially when they weren’t in public and any danger to Beau would be much less. She’d let down her guard, possibly reveal how intriguing Ike was to her, the connection she felt to him. She’d lose her drive, fall in love, let down her family and herself.
“Yeah, I’m sorry.” He pushed his free hand through his hair and then clenched it into a fist again.
“Sorry?”
“I don’t want you to be … uncomfortable.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve dated so many men it’s no big deal for me to pretend we’re dating. Honestly, you aren’t my type.”
She was such a liar. She’d dated but had never had time to develop a relationship, and most boys and men weren’t tough enough for her. Not just physically but emotionally. She refused to play to any man’s ego and act like the simpering girl, and they hated it when she could beat them up.
Throughout her police training and time as an officer, she’d made a rule not to date her fellow officers. It made everything easier from turning down date offers to earning their respect. It also dried up the dating pool to Death Valley standards.
She hadn’t dated ‘so many men,’ and no one close to the perfection and allure of this one. Not her type? Ike could be the poster on her wall for her exact type. He was definitely strong enough physically and emotionally to stand, or fight, by her side. Everything about him drew her in. Except the glaring fact that he didn’t seem to reciprocate her longing. She also couldn’t forget for one moment that she was a professional security operative, not a silly girl chasing the hot guy around.
Goodness, she was a mess.
Ike grunted in response to her lies. His hand tightened on the wheel again and his jaw clenched tight. Had she upset him? What did it matter? They were here to work together, not to worry about feelings.
“What is your type?” he asked.
Myra blinked at him. He cared what her type was? She wanted to yell you, but she bit her tongue. She leaned into the seat as if this were simply a normal conversation, but there was nothing normal about the conversation, the assignment, or this morning. Her mind spun from fake dating Beau Alexander in public to pretending Ike was her boyfriend in private. Add to that the Star Stabber? Usually Charli didn’t blindside her like this. ‘Unique assignment’ was an understatement.
“The charming, flirtatious, smooth and creamy like ranch dressing kind of guy.” She thought that was kind of funny and would help him not notice her obvious longing for him.
“Huh. Ranch dressing.” His voice sounded like he was rolling his eyes at her analogy. “So guys like Beau?”
Could there be a world where Ike was interested in her? Had a secret crush of his own? Ike didn’t waste time or do casual conversations. Maybe he was feeling her out to see if she was interested.
Myra’s heart slammed against her chest as she tried to think how to answer. She shouldn’t be playing with fire and wanting to flirt with Ike. She couldn’t let him see how alluring he was to her. That would be humiliating and make it awkward to work together. This was why she made firm rules and teased and fought like a man so they would treat her like an equal.
“Not quite as flamboyant as Beau,” she admitted. “I don’t want some famous guy, and I’m a Christian and believe in the sanctity of marriage. Beau obviously doesn’t.”
“True.”
Beau’s long string of famous girlfriends proved he was not the ‘waiting for marriage’ type. She wanted loyalty for life and beyond like her parents. If she ever settled down. Today wasn’t even close to that day.
“Why are we posing as a couple for no one but Beau, his house staff, and his security guards to see?” she asked. Her voice squeaked. She was nervous, and who could blame her? Pretending to be a couple with the likes of Ike Porter. She had no idea how to navigate the situation or the job. It was out of her frame of reference.
“Beau contacted Charli yesterday, after the judge and his head coach laid out what he needed to do, and coincidentally the Star Stabber left a note in his kitchen.”
“Too coincidental.” Could the football star be trying to deflect the bad press of an awful breakup with Bermuda Gray and the DUIs by faking a violent and famous stalker? “Did they see any evidence of the Star Stabber?”
