Street Game(31)

She laughed at him, her vivid blue eyes dancing. “You always did wake up crabby, Mack.”

“You take a shower first,” Kane insisted generously. “I suggest a cold one. It will work wonders.”

Behind Jaimie’s back, Mack gestured rudely. The two men burst out laughing simultaneously.

“Towels are on the sink,” Jaimie provided helpfully. She looked a bit smug, very happy and extremely kissable.

Mack reminded himself to quit staring at her mouth. It wasn’t helping to relax his body. “Thank you, honey.” Deliberately, his voice was low and silky and caressing.

The bastard Joe might be six feet tall, but he had nothing on Mack when it came to knowing what Jaimie liked best. He knew every hidden spot, every secret shadow.

She touched the tip of her tongue to her lip, eyes going wide and darkening to a royal blue. She suddenly found her coffee interesting. He managed to walk to the bathroom as if all parts of his body were cooperating.

Kane leaned his elbows on the counter across from Jaimie. “That floor is as hard as nails. I was serious about ordering a bed or two. Would you mind?”

Her small white teeth chewed nervously at her lower lip. Kane was grateful Mack was in the shower. This particular look would have him flinging himself right out the window. “How long do you think you’ll have to stay?”

Kane shrugged casually. “A couple of weeks, a month. The truth is, little Jaimie, we need a base anyway. Now that Mack knows you’ve permanently settled here, even when we clear up the trouble, he’s going to want to stay.”

“I’m not going back to that life, Kane.”

“I know that, honey. Mack knows it too. That doesn’t mean we aren’t family.”

A shadow crossed Jaimie’s delicate face, darkened her blue eyes. “I guess we can go shopping for furniture today, then, but if you’re sleeping in it, you pay for it. We’ll need food too. I guess you both expect to eat.”

“He’s had a rough time of it without you, Jaimie.” Kane poured himself another cup of coffee. “I have too.”

Her gaze met his. “I needed time to establish myself, to become my own person.”

She curled her fingers around the warmth of the mug. “I would have written if I had an address for you.”

They both knew she couldn’t just write to the military and find them.

GhostWalker missions were kept strictly secret, but she knew Sergeant Major Griffen, and could have gone to him to get word to them had she wanted. She hadn’t done it.

“We kept track of you,” Kane admitted.

“Obviously.” Jaimie smiled at one of the many pewter dragons standing on its back legs, claws extended, a fierce expression on its face. “I cried for two straight days when the first one arrived.”

“Mack always refers to you as a fire-breathing dragon. That’s where he got the idea.” He looked at her over the top of his coffee mug. “Mack went a little crazy when you moved again. We had no idea you were in San Francisco.”

“I had to find a place for my business and there’s work here. I wasn’t exactly hiding. In the end, you would have found me.”

Kane unexpectedly reached across the counter and flicked her chin. “Don’t ever disappear like that again, you hear me, Jaimie?”

She nodded solemnly. “I won’t. I have a business now. I’ll be easy to find.”

“Is this Spaghetti person . . .”

“Spagnola,” Jaimie corrected, trying to scowl.

“Whatever. Is he married?”

“Kane, really, does it matter?” When he was silent she shot him an exasperated glare and slid from the barstool. “No, Joe is not married. What difference would it make?”

“Probably the difference between life and death,” Kane muttered.

“Excuse me?” Jaimie said. “I didn’t hear you.”