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when you shift.”
    Wild cats did when they worked together like this. It was hard not to. Oliver never shifted, but that was his deal, not hers. They didn’t lust after other cats’ bodies. Well, maybe she did a little over Huntley’s, but she was totally hands off with him. Eyeing him a little was okay, as long as she didn’t touch the goods. Right? And that had her thinking about his goods all over again.
    â€œWhen you stay in the cabins, they are air-conditioned,” Oliver said, angry.
    Okay, now she was totally ticked off. “We do have some scruples,” she said, annoyed to the max. He acted as though she slept around with every male agent in the branch.
    She sipped her water and studied Oliver, his black hair slicked back, wet from recently showering, his posture rigid. Even when he was angry, he was beautiful in a movie star, heartthrob way—his body sculpted from workouts in the gym and his skin golden from swimming in the condo’s pool. But he looked like he wanted to hit something. Maybe even her. He’d better not try it. Despite his workouts, he’d be flat on his back in a nanosecond.
    Oliver turned to look out the kitchen window onto the backyard, then eyed her. “Okay, here’s the deal.”
    As soon as he spoke the words, she was ready to tell him where he could shove his deal—no matter what it entailed. She was through having these “discussions” when she returned from a mission.
    â€œI looked into how hard it would be for you to get a license to sell insurance. You should be able to do it,” he said. “My insurance company will sponsor you. You’ll have to take an exam and be fingerprinted, and that’s it.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThen you could work with me at the insurance agency. We have a new opening. We could take off at the same time and be together nights, and we could drive in the HOV lane, and…”
    â€œWait, what ? The HOV lane?” She couldn’t believe what he’d conjured up while she was away. How long had he been thinking of this?
    â€œThe high-occupancy vehicle lane—you know, for cars with more than one person riding in them during rush hour.”
    She was still staring at him like he’d gone insane. “You want me to quit my job so I can work at yours?” So they could drive to work in a faster lane on the highway? She was usually quick on her feet, but she hadn’t expected this.
    â€œYeah. It’s the only way it’s going to work between us.”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter that I love my job?” she asked, not that she meant for him to answer her. She didn’t give a damn what he thought. She wasn’t quitting her job. And certainly not to work at his agency. Selling stuff? She wasn’t a salesperson at heart. Sure, he was always telling her about the Texas codes concerning insurance, which she halfheartedly listened to, and that meant she didn’t know enough to pass any test. If she’d even wanted to do that, which she didn’t.
    She was a fighter, a rescuer—that’s how she lived. If she and her sister, Bonnie, hadn’t been rescued when they were young and that hadn’t made such an impression on her, maybe she wouldn’t be doing this today. She was a survivor. When he was just a JAG agent ten years earlier, Martin had led the team that had rescued her and her sister. From then on, both had wanted to be just like Martin. He finally had become the director of the branch, and when they were old enough, she and her sister had proudly applied to work there. She wasn’t ever quitting her work.
    â€œI don’t know why you’re so hung up on that job. It’s an addiction for you. That’s all you think about. All you want to talk about. After the mission. Before the mission. What went wrong, and what you have to do differently next time. I just don’t give a damn.”
    She could say the