Ghostwalker 08 - Street Game

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.”
    “It would make Mack feel better,” Kane substituted prudently.
    “Yeah, right. He’d just think Joe was out for an extramarital affair.”
    Kane laughed softly. “Most likely you’re right about that. He isn’t the most easygoing guy where you’re concerned.”
    “That’s putting it mildly and you’re almost as bad.” Jaimie opened the refrigerator and scowled at the contents. “Maybe we should go out for breakfast.”
    “What do you usually eat for breakfast?” Kane inquired.
    She slammed the door with unnecessary force. “Coffee. I’m usually too busy to eat.”
    “The Spaghetti guy arrives at ten and you don’t have the time to eat?” Kane’s eyebrow shot up. “Lazy little thing.”
    “I am not,” Jaimie denied indignantly. “I have all kinds of things to do. I’m usually up by seven. And don’t call Joe ‘the Spaghetti guy.’ Sometimes we have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, which is why there is meat in my refrigerator, smart one.”
    Kane groaned. “I suggest you keep good old Joe away from Mack. Don’t tell Mack you eat with this clown on a regular basis. And try not to say his name in that syrupy voice.”
    “I don’t say his name syrupy.”
    “Yes, you do. All soft and dreamy. And your voice changes when you talk to him.
    Mack is going to throw him out on his ass if you keep it up.”

    78

    “Mack will have to learn some manners.” Jaimie flounced across the room to the bed, Kane on her heels. “And Joe might not be so easy to throw out.”
    Kane straightened slowly from where he was bending to help her make her bed.
    “Jaimie . . .” he began. “You aren’t blind. He’s not going to let another man into your life.”
    “Joe is a friend. And it’s not Mack’s business anymore, now, is it, Kane?” Jaimie said, sticking her chin out. “He let me go. He doesn’t get to just walk back into my life and think things are going to be the same.”
    “Hey!” Mack emerged from the bathroom, towel-drying his hair, steam escaping all around him. His chest and feet were bare, creating a mood of intimacy. “You two all right? You look like you’re arguing.”
    “Don’t you ever wear a shirt?” Jaimie demanded.
    He smirked at her. “Bothers you, does it? Kind of takes your breath away?”
    Jaimie rolled her eyes. “You probably spent the last fifteen minutes staring at yourself in the mirror.” For a moment he actually had taken her breath away and she was certain Kane knew it. He’d been standing close enough to hear her swift indrawn breath and now he was grinning ear to ear. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t say a word.”
    Kane held up his hands in surrender, ruined it by winking, walked around her, slapped Mack on the back, and disappeared into the bathroom.
    Mack tossed his towel aside and took a step toward Jaimie. Her head came up, eyes suddenly wary. Mack smiled when she stepped backward. The bed caught the back of her knees and she sat down rather abruptly. The move brought her eye level with the undone top button of Mack’s jeans. She blushed for no reason at all, her eyes traveling up his narrow hips, the muscle-cut stomach, to his heavily developed chest.
    “This is silly, Mack. Get some clothes on.” Her mouth had gone so dry it was difficult to speak normally.
    “I have clothes on.” He stepped close enough for her to feel his body heat. He pulled the makeshift turban from her head and gently began to rub her hair with the towel.
    He was so close Jaimie was forced to close her eyes. It didn’t seem to matter, he filled her vision anyway. He smelled of spicy aftershave mingled with his clean, masculine scent. Beneath her long lashes she could glimpse every defined muscle of his