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He was happy to make his contribution one job at a time and let people like Charli, Fitz, Sutton Smith, and his little brother work out the details.
Ike preferred to think of himself as the soldier, like he’d trained to be since a seven year old mourning his angelic mother. Twenty-three years of learning, developing, fighting, and executing. He should never have retired from the Rangers. He’d flourished there and never felt so accepted or at home. It had been a knee-jerk reaction to losing Sadie, just like his dad had retired when their mom had died. His dad had a lot better reason for early retirement—two boys at home who needed him. Eisenhower Porter III had taken that need, the respect Ike had for him, and the hero worship Aiden had, and turned his boys into automatons. His ‘bionic boys.’
Myra shifted in her seat, instantly snatching all his focus. This job of pretending to be dating didn’t sit right with him. He was going to be in close quarters with the most mesmerizing woman he’d ever encountered.
Sorry, Sadie, he muttered in his head. He’d loved Sadie. She’d been sweet, supportive, and loving. The perfect future military widow. Until she’d died, and he’d been the one who’d ended up permanently alone.
Even his fond memories of Sadie couldn’t hold a candle to the appealing woman seated next to him. The first time he’d shook Myra’s hand a year ago, he’d been startled, overwhelmed, and knew the only option for his sanity was to keep his distance.
Now this job would challenge his resolve. When the mesmerizing Myra Tueller had touched his arm, he’d almost lost control of the vehicle. From the simple pressure of warm, feminine fingers on his arm. Thankfully, he’d been trained from childhood to be more machine than man.
He’d somewhat let down his guard with Sadie. He’d enjoyed spending time with her, holding her, kissing her, but he’d never felt the draw, connection, and sparks with her that he’d felt around Myra with a few touches, banter, and the tantalizing draw of her deep-brown eyes.
Myra could change his entire world. He couldn’t let that happen. He had adjusted to civilian life, had a purpose and a great career. He had even somewhat come to terms with the well-intended yet not realistic visions and loss of his father, Sadie’s death, and the murder of his mom years ago.
Life was good. Settled. Myra would flip his world upside down. No matter how tough mentally and physically he thought he was, he doubted he’d survive a Myra shift in his life.
Myra had been graciously quiet the past twenty minutes as he’d let his mind wander and stewed about his past and his messed-up life.
Mind stewing wasn’t something he did often. He was always focused. Always ready for battle.
Myra’s silence was just another thing he appreciated about her. She knew when to tease but she could handle silence. She was a well-trained op and an impressive fighter with a police background. Add the beautiful brown eyes, great smile, and fit shape into the mix and he couldn’t imagine how she could be any more enticing to him. It was as if the extraordinary lady warrior had been designed to be his perfect match.
He should never have agreed to this job.
When Charli and Fitz approached him, a possessiveness had flared in him and he knew he had to keep Myra safe from the likes of the famous playboy Beau Alexander. He still couldn’t believe the punk had requested Myra for his ‘hot security girlfriend.’ Ike could’ve let any of the other male ops ‘pretend’ to be Myra’s boyfriend, but again that need to protect her and be the one there for her had burned inside him.
It had felt like a spiritual prompting, but he was betting it was actually a selfish reaction on his part. He should’ve slowed down and thought through the implications and job responsibilities. How would he keep his focus and stay detached? The job had sounded manageable until Myra walked out of the airport sliding glass doors and paused to close her eyes and take a deep inhale, looking like the angel he should focus the rest of eternity on.
He’d lied to himself earlier claiming this would be a simple job and he could stay in control and keep an emotional distance around this intriguing lady. Too intriguing. That was a huge problem. The job felt anything but simple.
What would his dad do in this situation?
Stop the car, call an Uber to send Myra back to the airport, and tell Fitz and Charli he would handle the job himself.
What would Aiden do?
Lock his heart, charm Myra and have her laughing and in the palm of his hand, accomplish the job precisely and with style, post about it on his social media and website, then walk away and never think about Myra again.
Neither option sounded good.
What would Jesus do?
Love her.
Shoot. He tried to follow his Savior and could never have survived the military, special ops, and the loneliness of his life now without Jesus’s help, but he couldn’t … love Myra. Okay. He could love her like the Savior did—pure, kind, unselfish—but he couldn’t love her like he wanted to.
He’d heard she turned down every date offer any of the male ops made. He’d watched her tease and laugh with the guys. She had a way of making them into her friends and co-workers, even though Ike knew many of them would fight for a shot at dating her.
“I have an idea,” she said into the silence.
Ike almost jumped out of his skin at her lyrical voice breaking into his thoughts about wanting to love her. What was wrong with him?
He simply lifted an eyebrow and kept his nonchalant grip on the steering wheel with his right hand, shoulders down and relaxed, unassuming expression and posture. He’d let her talk and share her idea, and he’d try to help her accomplish said idea. They were partners and he wanted her to feel valued. He’d also learned most people wanted to talk and be acknowledged, so he let them. He learned and observed a lot that way.
“We should practice being a couple.” Her voice quavered, but she turned to him with her shoulders straight and her head held high. There was obvious concern in her dark eyes. Was she concerned how he’d receive her ‘practice’ idea or stressed about how this convoluted op would go?
If only she’d put sunglasses on. He needed a shield from those enticing eyes of hers. He wanted to agree to every idea she had and stare into those eyes for a long time.
