Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(34)

She jerked her hand away, uncaring that he knew just how he affected her. “You have sex on the brain, Mack. Get your runaway hormones under control.” Jaimie said it looking as schoolmarmish as possible.

Kane choked on a mouthful of orange juice, turned slightly red, and looked surreptitiously around. “Jaimie!” He sounded shocked and lowered his voice, nearly whispering. “I can’t believe you said ‘sex’ or ‘hormones’ in public.”

She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t blast him for trying to eat my hand in front of everyone.” Her gaze swept the restaurant. Several of the men were snickering between bites of food. “Why didn’t you just invite them all to sit with us? Maybe we could walk down the street like a solid wall of testosterone.”

Kane choked again, spewing food into his napkin. “If I don’t want you to say S-E-X, I certainly don’t think you should be saying that. Sheesh, woman. You’ve lost all sense of decorum since you’ve been on your own.”

Jaimie laughed. “You’re such a prude, Kane. I can say ‘prude,’ can’t I?”

“I’m not a prude,” he objected. “It’s just that there some things you don’t go talking about in public.”

Mack burst out laughing. “I tried to tell you she was out of control. We’re going to have to take her in hand.” He shamelessly leered at her.

“Tell Mack there are things you don’t go doing in public,” she replied hotly.

“I didn’t see a thing,” Kane defended piously.

Jaimie shrugged her slender shoulders nonchalantly. “Just for that, you two can fight over the check. Come on, I’m finished.” She tossed her napkin on the table and stood up.

“Jaimie.” Mack groaned. “Have a heart. We’re not finished.”

“I can’t help it if you’re slow eaters and fast talkers,” she replied sternly.

“You had a blueberry muffin,” Kane pointed out. “We had man-sized meals.”

“ ‘Had’ is the operative word here. It’s indecent and very bad manners to lick your plate.” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll meet you at the furniture shop.” She half turned.

Mack’s hand snaked out with the speed of a striking cobra, and shackled her fragile wrist, preventing movement. “We’re finished, honey, don’t be in such a hurry.” His thumb feathered across the sensitive skin of her inner wrist, sending little fingers of flames licking up her arm.

He was looking at her. She could clearly see that, focusing on her the way that always made her feel special, yet he gave an almost imperceptible nod and Brian and Jacob immediately rose and walked to the counter to pay their tab. They exited the restaurant without even glancing her way.

Jaimie felt the punch in the region of her belly. “You know, Mack,” she hissed softly between clenched teeth as she twisted her wrist, tried to pull free. “You don’t need to flirt with me to do the job. I’m smart enough to know what needs to be done.”

Mack tightened his grip, his thumb stilling over the pulse beating so frantically there. He got to his feet slowly, lazily, his arm sliding around her waist, drawing her to his side. “You aren’t going anywhere without me.” As an afterthought Mack added, “Without us.”

Jaimie set her jaw, but stopped struggling. It was useless drawing attention to them. It wouldn’t make Mack stop. “I wasn’t really going without you. I’m well aware you’re worried about someone coming after me. You don’t know me anymore, Mack. Don’t treat me like the child you used to know.”

Mack crowded her body just a little with his own. “I know you better than you know yourself. I know you better than your own mother did.”

“That’s not hard. Poor Mama didn’t know a thing about me except that I was too smart for my own good.” Jaimie briefly closed her eyes, thinking of her mother. Unwed pregnant teenager, boyfriend and family deserting her. The doctors, excited about her exceptional year-old child. Stacy Fielding had adored her baby girl, wanted something better than a life of waiting tables, and she’d struggled hard to give her a different life. Jaimie always wished she’d been one of those girls that had been ultrafeminine and giggly, instead of the serious, studious child she’d been. Her mother deserved that.

“You miss her, don’t you?” Mack dropped money on the table for the tip while Kane made his way up to the counter to pay the check.

“Of course I miss her. She had such a tragic life.”

She turned away from his comfort, that part of her that was still a child mourning her mother’s death unable to accept solace from him. Every morning she’d woken up and known she was facing another day without Mack. Now he was there and she felt more alone than ever. There had been Mack and Kane and her mother before Mack had brought her home to his mother and introduced her into his circle of friends. The boys had accepted her because Mack and Kane had. Now either everyone was gone or she’d lost that closeness with them.

After leaving Mack, she had learned to cope on her own. She didn’t want Mack coming back into her life with false promises and letting her lean on him. The memories of her childhood, good and bad, came flooding back with him. And the year she’d spent believing he loved her and wanted her for his wife, for the mother of his children. She’d lost her mother in the worst, most horrific way, and he knew she craved stability. But, when she’d gone to him and pleaded with him to give her what she needed, he’d been arrogant and aloof, pointing out her failings as a GhostWalker. Telling her he was committed to the program and wouldn’t have time or energy right then for a family.