Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(21)

“It was the other way around. Without me, you two wouldn’t even know what civilization was all about,” Jaimie argued indignantly.

Mack took several silky strands of her hair in his mouth, tugged gently as he allowed them to slide off his tongue through his lips. He laughed softly when Jaimie took a poorly aimed swipe at him, missing by several inches. “This woman has such a temper, Kane.” Mack surrounded her arms with his own, crowding even closer, dwarfing her with his size. “So contrary.”

“I don’t think so,” Jaimie protested. She pressed her smiling mouth into the pillow. They’d always been like this. Talking back and forth and making her laugh when she didn’t want to.

“Fortunately we’ll have plenty of time to work on these little imperfections,” Kane said.

“I’ve got a great idea,” Jaimie ventured. “I’ll take the couch and you two jokers can share the bed.”

Mac’s arm muscles tightened perceptibly as he clamped her to him. “I’m not about to share this dinky little bed with that shaggy bear,” Mack objected. “He kicks like a mule.”

“He wakes up throwing punches.” Kane imparted the information with relish. “I refuse to be anywhere near him.”

“The arrangements are just fine.” Mack was emphatic.

His fingers brushed her breast and she wasn’t smiling anymore. Just like that her body flooded with heat. She was certain it was an accident, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t do this, slip back into the old patterns so easily, teasing each other and feeling the fire sweeping through her body, hot and wild and so tempting. She felt alive again and that scared her so much that for a terrible moment she couldn’t think or breathe. Her heart slamming hard in her chest, she leapt from the bed, right over the top of Mack, landing like a cat, crouched on the floor, and then scrambling backward, away from him.

“Jaimie?” Mack sounded troubled. “Are you all right? We were just teasing, honey.”

She forced words past the sudden lump clogging her throat. “I’m okay. I still get claustrophobia at times.” She was hyperventilating, just as she had all those nights for months when she woke up alone without Mack beside her. She could feel sweat beading on her forehead, dangerous now, because both Mack and Kane could smell fear. Cursing under her breath, she moved to the window, staring out over the water.

The sea always calmed her. That was a good part of the reason for her chosen location. She wasn’t an anchor and the chaos of people could cause severe damage. The sea helped block the waves of energy coming at her, or maybe it just drowned out the worst of it. Whatever. She didn’t want to think about what Whitney had done and what she’d become thanks to him. She couldn’t lose herself, not when it had taken her so long to build her self-esteem and courage. Mack couldn’t just come back and steal it all away. She wasn’t that same innocent girl.

When she was with Mack, he overshadowed her. She knew she was intelligent, more so than both Mack and Kane, yet she never felt strong around them. They had a different kind of strength and for some reason, she could never quite feel equal to them. She couldn’t blame Mack for treating her as someone he had to take care of when she didn’t act like a partner, but she had stood on her own and she liked herself. She didn’t want to go back.

A tingling awareness crept down the back of her neck and she took a breath. “Who do you have watching me, Mack?” There was accusation in her voice.

Mack glanced at his watch. “It’s Gideon’s shift. In another hour Jacob will take over on the roof. We’ve got a ship coming in around eleven and the boys will be coming off that and securing residences around the neighborhood. We made certain the rooms we wanted were open. You’ve got someone watching you across the way. He’s got to be a GhostWalker, or he’s a damn good terrorist. We didn’t even get close to him. He won’t go back to his room, so we’ve got people going through it. If he left anything behind, we’ll find it.”

“If he’s that good, there won’t be anything,” she said with a sigh as she swung around and leaned one hip against the windowsill. If Mack was right, her warning system had definitely failed. She shook her head. Everything had been right. Good. And now, in one moment, she was back into something she couldn’t handle. Mack and Kane had turned her life upside down just like they always did.

Jaimie turned back to the window and stared down at the water, her fingers twisting together, betraying her agitation. “Maybe you’d answer a question for me, Kane.”

“Does it have to be tonight?” Kane asked easily. “Or rather this morning?”

Mack sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Both Jaimie and Kane sounded tense in spite of their deliberately casual tones. He knew them both too well. The muscles in his belly knotted uncomfortably.

Jaimie didn’t turn, but stood unnaturally stiff, hands linked behind her back like a soldier—waiting for bad news. “Now would be a good time.”

“So shoot.”

“What do you think the odds are on you and Mack chasing a shipment of explosives halfway around the world and ending up in San Francisco at the wrong warehouse?”

“Jaimie, I told you.” Mack stood up and padded across the room on silent feet to stand behind her. “Do you think I would lie about this? Lie to you?”