stopped to ask about his kilt.
As if guessing her intent, Pierce shook his head and grabbed her around the waist, steering her to their booth.
Madison frowned at him, her mood sinking again as she slid into the seat with the wall at her back. She glanced toward the entrance, reassuring herself that Damon wasnât standing there. She had no reason to believe heâd followed her today, but if an FBI agent had followed without her knowing, anything was possible.
Instead of sitting on the other side of the table, Pierce slid in next to her. Since he didnât seem to be watching the door like her, she assumed he just wanted to be able to discuss Damon without anyone overhearing them. She also noticed he sat with his injured ribs facing away from her as if he still didnât trust her. She blew out a frustrated breath.
Her mood soured even further, until she began to notice how warm and cozy it was sitting close to him. This wasnât the first time theyâd sat beside each other in a booth. When theyâd gone out to restaurants together in the past, theyâd often sit next to each other instead of across from each other, so they could hold hands beneath the table, or exchange a more intimate touchâa kiss on the nape of her neck, the brush of his breath against her ear, her hand on his thigh.
She shivered at the memory. Pierce glanced at her in question, and she looked away.
The waitress arrived and took their drink orders. They sat in silence until their drinks arrived, along with an order of potato scones the waitress had recommended.
Madison took a bite of one of the scones, but she barely tasted the almonds and raspberry preserves. She kept trying to close her mind to the memories that swirled around her, so she could focus on whatever questions he might ask her, but sitting this close to him was playing havoc with her concentration.
It was all she could do not to bury her nose in his shoulder and breathe in that intoxicating blend of soap and cologne that she always associated with him. She didnât realize how much sheâd missed him, or how much she cared about him until sheâd seen him jump in front of a bullet for her.
She drew a shaky breath.
In spite of his earlier quip about getting a beer, Pierce had ordered water. He took a sip and turned slightly toward her as if he were about to ask her something.
Madison took another bite.
âYou can stall all you want,â he said. âIâm not going anywhere until we talk.â
The scone sat like sand in her throat. She chased it down with a generous sip of Diet Coke and shoved the plate away. âThereâs really no need for another inquisition. As you can see, no one took any shots at me today. No one followed me.â
He raised an eyebrow.
âOkay, except for the FBI. Other than that, no one followed me.â She couldnât help glancing at the door again. But she realized that was a mistake when he looked toward the door too. The frown on his face when he looked back at her told her he knew exactly why sheâd looked toward the entrance.
âIâm still a little jittery from yesterday,â she said in explanation. âAnd tired. But other than that, Iâm fine. You have no further obligations to my brother. You can go back to Tammy and forget all about me.â
He sighed heavily. â Tessa . Her name is Tessa. And we shared that house for undercover work.â
Jealousy slammed into her so hard her eyesight blurred. âHow much undercover work did you two do?â
He rolled his eyes and ignored her question. âSpeaking of houses, itâs too dangerous for you to stay in yours. Until we know whether the gunman is coming back or not, you need to stay somewhere else.â
She clutched the edge of the table so hard she was surprised the wood didnât crack. She wasnât about to let another man order her around. She rested her hand on Pierceâs thigh beneath