Remember Jamie Baker (Jamie Baker #3)(49)

“There are still superthugs out there looking for her.”

“And they’ll be expecting her to be near the hospital with the ACEs. I’ll take her someplace quiet, away from everything, where they’ll never think to look for her.”

Major Wilks surprised me when he nodded without giving it much thought. “All right. Just check in periodically.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Hang on a second.” I stepped between the two men who’d just planned my evening without asking me. “Do I have a say in this? Who said I want to go on a date with him tonight?” I was only being stubborn now—arguing because Ryan ignited a sense of righteous indignation in me. I wouldn’t really say no to an evening alone with him. The thought of going on a date with him terrified me, but it thrilled me, too.

Ryan, Major Wilks, and even Carter stopped their conversations to look at me. The smirks on each of their faces only aggravated me more.

“Jamie.” That one word, when said the way Ryan said it, was shiver inducing. It should really be illegal for him to use that tone of voice. Especially when there was so much heat in his eyes. He gripped my elbows gently and reeled me in close. Then he trailed his fingers down the back of my arms and tangled them in mine. The confidence in his actions smothered any willpower I had in resisting him. “You’re wearing the sparkly skirt.”

Still reveling in the warm tingles his touch caused, I had to ask him what he was talking about, because I couldn’t think straight. “What?”

He grinned. “The skirt I told you I liked. You wore it for me.”

I scowled down at the skirt in question, suddenly annoyed that I had it on. It was no wonder the guy had such an ego with me; I kept playing right into his hands.

Ryan let go of me and hooked his fingers into the front pockets of my skirt. He wet his lips as he pulled me against him and slipped his arms around my waist. There was no holding back my chills this time. Ryan not only noticed when I shivered; he smiled as if he’d made it happen intentionally. “We both know you want to go out with me, Sunshine. So stop being stubborn and let me take you on a date.”

My answer came out breathless. “Okay.”

I had the feeling this was not the first time I’d given in to him, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.





The first thing Ryan did was take me to a small town in Middle-of-Nowhere, Illinois. It was a nice change from New York City. When we arrived, stopping on the main street of town, I took a moment to enjoy the peace and quiet. Ryan smiled as he watched me relax. “Better?”

“Much. Thank you.”

The town around us was nothing special—old and a little run down. Nothing stood out of the ordinary at all. It worked better for me than New York, but I had to wonder what we were doing here. “So…?”

Ryan laughed. “Take a deep breath.”

Trusting him, I inhaled and my mouth began to water. “What is that?”

“That would be Ricci’s Pizzeria.”

“It smells amazing.”

“I thought you might like it. Hungry?”

“I am now.”

Ryan led me around the corner to the source of the delicious, spicy Italian scent that had me salivating. The restaurant was just a tiny hole-in-the-wall place with only a handful of tables, but every seat was packed and there was a line at the walk-up counter.

Behind the counter there was a window that opened to the kitchen. A large man in a grease-stained white apron and big fluffy hat stood behind the window, tossing pizzas over his head like they do in the movies. I instantly loved the place.

“Something else you need to know about Jamie Baker,” Ryan said as we waited for our turn to order. “You love pizza.”

He smiled as if he’d just revealed the world’s biggest secret. It was sad that I had to burst his bubble. “I already know I like pizza.”

He shook his head. “No. You don’t just like pizza; you love it. You love it the way a man loves it. Fat, greasy, and loaded with toppings. If it’s the right pizza, you could eat it seven days a week and not get tired of it. And this place in particular was always your favorite.”

I was intrigued. I liked pizza well enough—Teddy loved it, so he constantly made the frozen kind—but I didn’t think I loved it the way Ryan believed I did. Then again, this place smelled nothing like the stuff Teddy had given me.

When we reached the cashier, I started to ask Ryan what I used to order, but before I could get the words out, the man behind the register looked at me and gasped. “Jamie? Is that you under all that green hair, sweetheart?”

It was startling to be recognized. “Um, yes?”

The man looked like a smaller version of the guy in the kitchen. They had to be brothers. A wide grin split his face as he shook his head in disbelief. “Yo, Leo!” he called in a thick Brooklyn accent. “You ain’t gonna believe this! Look who’s here!”

The chef glanced out at me through the kitchen window and dropped the pizza he’d been tossing. “You’re right, Marco! I don’t believe it!”

He burst through the kitchen door and, without warning, scooped me off my feet into a big bear hug, planting kisses on both of my cheeks. “My favorite customer is back! Where you been girl? You broke my heart disappearing for so long. I thought you found a new pizza place. I cried for months.”