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Ike glanced to Myra. She watched Beau and Bermuda with a smile on her face, but then she turned to Ike as if sensing his gaze. He wished he could sweep her up and kiss her too. The air in the room was stifling and uncomfortable.
They studied each other and then she said, “I need to call Charli.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He glanced around. Beau and Bermuda were blocking the doorway. But then Beau lifted Bermuda off her feet and carried her back into the room, sinking into a hard chair and proceeding to whisper to her and then kiss her and then whisper some more.
Ike and Myra edged out of the room.
Myra pulled her phone out and hit Charli’s number. She stepped away, but Ike could still hear her, and he could still hear Beau and Bermuda. He was happy for Beau—he really liked the guy—but he was miserable for himself.
It was for the best. When Aiden got done with his week of reality TV, Ike would tell him he would work for him. That would give Myra space and make his dad happy up in heaven or wherever a selfless warrior went. It’d be good to be close to Aiden.
It would be a million times better to be close to Myra, but he couldn’t change like she wanted him to. He couldn’t lie and say he wouldn’t step in front of her and protect her every time there was danger.
That would not only frustrate her but made working with her a liability. He’d explain to Charli and Fitz and turn in his resignation.
Charli must’ve said the job was over since it was a copycat Star Stabber and Donavon and Harrison were both arrested and they didn’t have another job waiting for Myra. He heard Myra say, “Okay, thank you. I’m going to Wyoming to see my family for a few days.”
Sheriff Tueller. Ike had wanted to meet Myra’s dad.
She hung up, slid the phone into her purse, and turned to him.
Ike looked her over, trying to memorize the lines of her face, the deep-brown beauty of her eyes. Sadly, those eyes were not sparkling at him now. How could he let her walk away? What if she did get killed on an op? Would a better option be stealthily shadowing her and never letting her know until he had to jump in and protect her? He almost smiled at how angry she’d be at him then and how miserable it would be to watch her and never touch her or be with her.
“I’m going to head home for a few days.”
“Okay. I’ll make sure Beau and Bermuda get home safe if you want to take off.”
“Thanks.” She paused as if he’d say they could work this out or there was hope for them, but he didn’t have any clue how to promise something like that. “Will I see you around?” she asked, a hitch in her voice that dug at him.
“I’m going to work with Aiden,” he said before he could second-guess the decision.
Her eyes widened. Somehow, she knew what that meant. That Ike was admitting his dad was right and a relationship for a warrior would never work, only cause pain. He was causing himself pain right now. Was he hurting Myra? He prayed not but probably was.
She didn’t cry or ask him to reconsider or throw herself into his arms and kiss him or punch him. He would’ve preferred any of those reactions.
Instead she tilted her head, straightened her shoulders, and said, “Goodbye, Ike.”
He stared at her, his jaw slack, his gut churning.
She whirled and strode down the hall. He watched her go. He couldn’t say goodbye, but he couldn’t chase her either.
This hurt as bad as losing his mom or Sadie. But maybe in the long run it would minimize more pain for both of them.
“Dude!” Beau exclaimed from behind him. “Where’s Myra stomping off to?”
Ike pivoted to see Beau staring at him with Bermuda tucked against his side. The famous actress looked a mess, her hair all over the place, her lipstick gone. But her expression was radiant.
He tried for a smile, but admitted, “I messed it up, buddy.”
“Go after her,” Beau demanded.
Ike heard the door to the stairs slam closed. Myra was gone. “Not right now.”
“You’re going to regret it.” Beau gazed down at Bermuda. “I’ll never regret making a fool of myself to be with Bee.”
“Ah … I love you,” Bermuda said. “I’m a Beau-liever again.”
