Street Game (GhostWalkers #8)(29)
Author: Christine Feehan

“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.

Her throat closed at the memory. She couldn’t think about her mother, and she didn’t want to think about that last parting with Mack. They were together now for a short time, not under the best of circumstances, but she was determined to have a good day with them.

Mack slipped his arm around her shoulders in a gesture of comfort and she allowed herself to be led from the restaurant, sandwiched between the two men. Once on the street, he dropped his arm, stepping to the side of her.

“Keep moving, honey,” he ordered. “We studied the route from here and we can walk on the same side of the street all the way down. Stay between us. You know the drill.”

“You look like overzealous bodyguards,” she complained. It seemed natural to have one on either side of her, a leftover habit from childhood.

“We’ve been guarding your body for as long as I can remember,” Mack said with a teasing grin.

They joined the throng moving busily from block to block. Somehow the crowds seemed to part, the two men never once allowing anyone to so much as casually brush against her. She moved forward, aware that Jacob and Ethan were behind her. Her mind just did that—expanded and positioned the people around her.

The weather was cool and a bit misty, the fog gray and gloomy, but already clearing with a promise of a nice afternoon. She enjoyed being able to move through a bustling, crowded street free of pain, taking in the sights and buildings without the mind-numbing information that always crowded into her head. Mack and Kane gave her that freedom. Most of the time she spent locked away from the world. It had taken months to find Joe, a man she could work with without the psychic backlash that was so debilitating with most people. There were a few rare people that had natural shields and she’d worked hard, interviewing nearly three hundred applicants before she’d found him.

Something odd fluttered into her mind, pushed aside the warm happiness, leaving a sudden cold fear. She snuck a long, slow look around her, making certain to stay in step. She kept her same facial expression, her body language the same.

“What is it?” Mack’s voice was low.

He’d always been so tuned to her. It was strange. When he appeared to be paying the least attention, he caught everything, the smallest nuance. When he appeared to be wholly focused on her, he was completely aware of his surroundings.

“I don’t know,” she said, and there was no keeping the uneasiness from her voice.

We go to red. Mack sent out the order without hesitation. “Let’s abort, Jaimie.”