He tore his attention away and focused on the podium. Ivy was practically family, and he was a selfish son of a gun for wanting to touch her. Even if she’d turned into a ravishing woman, he had no right to view her the same way the other men did. He had to do a better job of controlling himself and couldn’t let loose the manly needs he’d kept locked away.

Sure, he’d met nice-looking ladies in Chicago over the past two years, especially after he’d gotten involved in the church he’d gone to as a child. But he made sure to keep his distance and did his best to discourage any interactions.

He’d told himself that’s just the way it needed to be. And he’d done fine at it. Until he’d seen Ivy.

He buried his face in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” She was slightly breathless, and the sound stirred warmth in his gut.

This was Ivy. He didn’t have to let himself get distracted by her. He just had to think of her the same way he always had—that she was too young for him. And too much like a sister.

She got riled up when he hinted at those things. But maybe it was better for her to be angry with him. It kept the barrier between them nice and high.

Her fingers grazed his shoulder.

The touch sent a hot jolt along his nerves. He jumped up, breaking the connection and getting a safe distance away from her. He reached the pulpit and braced his hands on the front edge.

“Something’s bothering you.” Her statement was firm, giving him little room to wiggle.

She was bothering him in ways he was too embarrassed to admit. So he pivoted and crossed his arms. “Don’t worry. Things will be just fine. We’re like family. And family looks after one another.”

Her lips stalled around a response, and her brows furrowed.

“I promised Dylan I’d keep an eye on you, and that’s what I’m planning to do.”

She watched him a moment longer before clamping her lips together and standing. The warmth in her expression dissipated as the ice blew in.

Inwardly he sighed. He didn’t like causing these kinds of rows, but he didn’t have any other defenses against her.

She lifted her chin. “I don’t need you looking after me. I never have, and I never will.” She rose and strode away, just as she had in Steele’s office, her back rigid and her steps angry.

As she exited, he sagged onto the nearest bench. She was mad at him again, but that was alright. Her frigidness would keep him cooled off, and that’s what he needed. That, and a good dose of prayer for resisting temptation.

He bowed his head and prayed hard.

Chapter
7