Jaguar Pride (3 page)

“If I can get Oliver to take off from work. He tends to be a workaholic. What about you?”

“Genista's on assignment in Panama at the moment. I had no idea how long this case would take, and she has no idea about hers either.”

“I thought Martin would have the two of you working together from time to time,” Melissa said.

“I was working with my brother on a case down here, and she didn't want to have to wait for me to return.” He hated how that sounded. The truth was that Genista had been like that ever since they'd started dating six months ago, jumping at the chance to go on a mission that wouldn't include him, being gone when he returned, or vice versa. In this business, it couldn't be helped sometimes. Unless they worked together. But every time he had brought it up, she'd gotten all negative on him.

“Oh,” Melissa said, as if she didn't know what else to say.

Huntley knew he and his girlfriend's relationship didn't sound like it was going anywhere. He'd known that for a long time, but he'd still been hopeful they could work things out.

He shrugged. “I'm going to miss your cooking.”

Melissa gave him a bright smile. “I'm glad you like all of this traditional fare. Oliver is strictly a meat-and-potatoes guy and doesn't like to try anything new.”

“Not me. I think that's part of the enjoyment of visiting other countries. Not eating at a hamburger joint or a fast-food fried-chicken place, but tasting the real local cuisine.”

“I agree.” She took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. “I sure wish we could have nabbed Jackson before he fled the scene of the crime.”

“Yeah, I hated losing the bastard. He might not end up back in the park, but I suspect he'll be back to poaching before we know it.” Huntley helped Melissa clean up the dishes. He would have done it all, but she always wanted to help.

Then they packed, went to bed and, early the next morning, took the bus ride to the airport. They were quiet, half dozing on the trip home, the knowledge that this was the start of their downtime kicking in. Since he had driven Melissa to the airport for the trip to Costa Rica, Huntley had to drop her off at her place, a neat little condo with a no-kids policy. Maybe she wasn't really interested in kids.

Before they arrived at the condo, he wondered how Oliver would act this time. When Huntley had brought Melissa home from the first mission they'd worked on, Oliver had been a real prick, acting irritated with both of them for some perceived slight. Last time Huntley was on a mission with her, the guy had been working late, and Melissa was visibly relieved. This time? Who knew.

After half an hour, they reached the two-story, redbrick condo in the Dallas suburbs. Oliver was watching out the window, dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt. No smile. No coming out to greet Melissa. Sour-faced and looking pissed, he had his arms folded across his chest. Maybe Melissa's relationship wasn't going anywhere either.

Huntley warned himself off thinking in such a way. Maybe Oliver was afraid of him. Huntley smiled a little at the notion and waved at the man anyway. Oliver didn't acknowledge the greeting.

That didn't bother Huntley, but what did was the icy reception Oliver was giving Melissa. She'd risked her life in the jungle, was tired, and needed a man in her life who would welcome her home with open arms, a loving embrace, and one hell of a scorching kiss. At least, if Huntley had been her boyfriend, that's how he would have handled the situation. He'd have shown her partner that he had what it took to be Melissa's boyfriend—and no other jaguar shifter need apply.

“Sorry, he must have had a rough day,” Melissa said, but she didn't sound like she really thought that was the problem. She sounded like she was curbing the urge to growl, ready to take Oliver to task for being so rude.

Huntley hoped so, and he hoped that would straighten the guy out. She certainly deserved better treatment.

After saying good-bye, Huntley drove home to his place in the Dallas suburbs ten miles away. He was ready to relax, watch a movie, kick back, and just become a mushroom for a couple of days. He called Martin to let him know that both he and Melissa had arrived safely as he unpacked his bag, dumping half his clothes in the washer.

“Good. Glad to hear you're both home all right.”

“Have you learned anything more about where Jackson went?”

“Nothing. I'll keep you posted.”

Martin was good about stuff like that. Even if Huntley never had a chance to take Jackson down, Martin would keep him informed about who did.

“Anything really hot going on?” Huntley asked, already feeling out of the loop.

“Nothing for you to do. Take it easy. Enjoy your break. You'll be at it again soon enough.”

“Thanks, Martin. I'm chilling.” At least Huntley was trying to. If Genista was here, it would be a different story. Then again, maybe not.

“Good. Talk to you later. Have an incoming call from your partner.”

Huntley smiled. He had beaten Melissa by a few seconds. “Talk later.”

He started his laundry and made up a batch of popcorn, already missing Melissa's cooking. He cooked, but somehow the way she fixed meals seemed so effortless, and they tasted a whole lot better than his attempts.

He plunked himself down on the couch to watch TV, but then gave Genista a call. “Hey, got home and wanted to check in with you.”

Silence.

He frowned. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah.”

“So, how are things going on your mission?”

“They're going, all right?”

He paused, considering her situation. “Can't talk right now?” He understood all too well how difficult it could be on a mission, but he'd just wanted to make a connection with her. Let her know he was fine and ensure she was also. “Are you okay?”

“I've got a job to do. All right?”

Okay, this wasn't what he had expected. “Yeah, I got it. Do you want me to ask Martin if he could cancel my leave and I can join you to help with your assignment?”

“No! Huntley, what you see in ‘us' is totally one-sided. I don't want anything more than…”

He waited, wondering why the hell he hadn't seen the signs that their relationship was this much in the toilet. Or maybe he had. He'd been working so hard, and she had also, that he'd thought the problem was just that. Hot under the collar now, he said, “Is there someone else?”

“No,” she said, her tone softening. “It's not like that. I just…I just don't want what you want. I don't want you to believe there's really any future in
us
.”

“
Oh…kay
. Well, where do we go from here?”

“I already moved out. I put in a change of address for my mail. I'll see you around the office. We can still work missions together, but that's it. Okay?”

He couldn't believe it without seeing it for himself. He immediately rose from the couch and headed for the closet and looked inside. Sure enough, all her clothes were gone.

“Sure.” But it wasn't okay. He'd met her on a mission, fell head over heels for her, and thought that what they had was something special. Except ever since she'd moved in with him three months ago, she'd been pulling back, finding excuses to be absent or on a mission. God, how could he have been so clueless? “All right. Well, I'll let you get back to your mission then.”

“I'm sorry that it didn't work out,” she said.

“Yeah, me too. But better that we learn about it sooner rather than carrying this too far. It just would have been nice if you'd let me know before you moved out on me.”

Silence.

“Okay, well, have a safe mission.” And he meant it with all his heart.

“Yeah, have a nice vacation.” And then she ended the call.

He felt numb. He called his triplet brother, Everett, but he was in Venezuela on a mission, and Huntley couldn't get hold of him. He might have been running as a jaguar. He tried calling his sister, Tammy, but all he got was her voice mail. She was probably working with her new mate, David, on training some shifter teens as future JAG agents.

Huntley decided he should just watch TV to get his mind off Genista and the last mission, and just, well, chill. He turned the TV on and flipped from one channel to another. Nothing appealed, not sports, or mystery, sci-fi, fantasy, police procedurals, nothing. He couldn't quit thinking about all the signs Genista had given him that she was interested in calling it quits…signs he hadn't paid any attention to.

It was seven o'clock. Screw this. He turned off the TV, left the partly eaten bowl of popcorn—now cold—on the table, and headed for the jaguar shifter club. Maybe he'd see one of the agents there, have a drink, and at least express his frustration about losing Jackson. Genista? He didn't want anyone to know he'd lost her this week as well.

Oliver totally fried her biscuits. Melissa was tired from the Costa Rican mission. Frustrated that Jackson had slipped out of their grasp. And she didn't need Oliver's attitude about now. Yet she realized she'd been bracing for this because as soon as she had returned from each of her last three missions, he'd been sullen, sulky, and then angry with her over absolutely nothing. Itching for a fight. Provoking one. She was sick of it. When she returned from a mission, she wanted romance, togetherness, peace, quiet, and recuperation.

“You could have been civil to Huntley Anderson. He was my partner on the mission, and he was trying to be friendly. You could have had the courtesy to come outside and greet us and at least say ‘hi' back to him,” she said, slamming the door after her as she hauled her bags inside without Oliver's help.

She had really never given it much thought before, because she always dragged her own bags into the condo after a mission and was perfectly capable of doing so. But she wondered now if it was his way of passively aggressively telling her he wouldn't aid her because the bags represented her time away from him. So fine. Act like he wanted her home and they'd work on things!

Ignoring her comment, Oliver began talking to her about all the sales he'd made while she was gone. She dropped her bags on the floor and headed for the kitchen for a glass of water, not interested in anything he had to say if it was all about his work.

Oliver followed her into the kitchen. His blue eyes were narrowed, and he was scowling at her. She knew that look. He was ready to create a scene. For not being a wild cat, he could sure get all growly with her.

“You don't care anything about what I do, do you?”

“I'm exhausted,” she said. “It was a long trip. Huntley and I had a rough time of it.”

Oliver looked even more pissed that she would mention Huntley in the conversation again.

“We lost one of the bad guys, and I need time to decompress,” she continued.

“Hell, Melissa. I see the way the two of you are all chummy.”

She scowled back at him. “Don't you start on me again about working with the men in the agency. They're professionals.” Though she'd known a couple who hadn't been, but Martin had fired their butts. “We work together to bring down the bad guys and rescue the cats. That's it. We've been through all this before.”

She knew then that it wouldn't work out with Oliver. The longer they'd been together, the more jealous he'd become of her partners. If she had a mission with another woman, he was fine with it. But as soon as she had an assignment with a male partner, Oliver was hell to live with for a week or more before and after the mission.

She realized she'd been avoiding having to deal with this. She just seemed to always be on a mission or trying to recuperate from the last one.

The condo was his, and she didn't have anywhere to crash while she looked for a place. She would start searching for an apartment first thing in the morning.

“You sleep with them! You can't tell me you're not interested in what they have to offer. They're wild cats like you, for one,” Oliver said.

“We sleep in separate bedrooms when we're in a jungle cabin or hut.” She didn't know why she was explaining this to him all over again. “Or as cats in a tree. And in a tent? Get real. It's damned hot and muggy down there, and sex is the furthest thing from our minds.”

“You're only human,” Oliver said, pacing. “You get naked in front of him 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.

“When 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.

“I 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.”

“What?”

“Then 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…”

“Wait,
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?

“The 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.

“Yeah. It's the only way it's going to work between us.”

“It 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.

“I 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 same about him and his insurance work.

“They're looking to fill that insurance position by the end of the week. I'll work with you to get you up to speed to take the test. I made an appointment for you to take it on Thursday, hoping you would be back before then so I could prep you. You're perfect for the job.”

She stared at him, not believing he thought he could just rearrange her life like this and she'd be happy with it.

“That's my ultimatum,” he said, folding his arms. “It's not going to work between us if we don't do this. I don't want you to go on one more mission away from home.”

She smiled, albeit a little evilly. “Okay, how about we do this instead. Since you want me working by your side, you can join the JAG agency.”

Not that Martin would take him into the agency as a field operative when Oliver was a city cat.

“I love what I do. And if I worked for your agency, Martin Sullivan wouldn't put me out in the field with you.”

Right, because Oliver would be a handicap and get them both killed.

“Not that I have any intention of changing jobs,” Oliver added.

“Ditto for me.”

“We wouldn't be together any more than we are now if I took a job like that,” Oliver said, frowning at her.

She sighed. “All right. True. I get your point. Really I do. You want more ‘us' time, and I understand. It's just not going to work out. I don't want to quit what I love doing.”

“Fine. Then pack up your stuff and leave.”

She couldn't believe he wanted this over between them so soon. “Okay. Glad we could work this out so well.”

He walked into the living room, sat down on the couch, turned on the TV, and acted as though she had already vacated his life for good.

“I'll have to come back for the rest of my things as soon as I have some boxes and a place I can stay.”

Oliver raised his brows. “Stay with what's his face.”

She ground her teeth. Oliver really believed she was going to move right in with Huntley? “He's got a girlfriend. I told you that already.” She just barely stifled the urge to add, “you jerk.”

“Boxes are out in the garage.”

Her jaw dropped a little. He had known all this time that she wouldn't go along with his ultimatum and had planned for her to leave? Even prepared for it.

“Huh? Thanks, I guess. But I still don't have a place.” And it was too late to do anything about that. “Unless you already thought of that and have one lined up for me. Just in case.”

He shook his head.

“Guess not, then. I'll be back tomorrow when you're at work and will pack up my stuff.”

Crap. Well, at least Martin had given her a week off, so she had time to look for a place. But she wasn't leaving until she had a shower and changed clothes.

After that, she grabbed her still-packed bags and was about to leave the condo when someone opened the door to the guest bedroom. She nearly had a heart attack, realizing someone else had been in the condo all this time while Oliver and she were talking. She was certain Oliver had a girlfriend now, and that all his talk had been—well, just that. Talk.

But when she saw their next-door neighbor, hot and sexy Chadwick Stephano, wearing only a pair of black boxers on his buff body, she just stared at him, openmouthed.

He smiled a little, then frowned at Oliver. “Why don't you just tell her the truth about us?”

“It just happened,” Oliver said, standing and looking sheepish. “Just today. We…we were talking about his organic garden, and…one thing led to another.”

Melissa was so stunned that she just stared at Oliver. Then finding her tongue, she said, “What about you wanting me to work with you?” Talk about doing a 360-degree turnaround. She was still unable to grasp all that had just been said and, well, all of this.

“Oliver thought that might make a difference between the two of you. If you were working together and you weren't off on wilderness trips all the time.” Chad walked over and squeezed Oliver's shoulder. “But he's known for a long time that this isn't working for him any longer.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “Okay.” She thought of herself as truly enlightened and mostly aware of what was going on around her. She'd seen Oliver talking with Chad before and knew they'd become great friends. But she hadn't expected
this
. “All right. Well, is it still okay if I come and get my things as soon as I get a place of my own?”

She asked Chad, because he seemed to be the one in charge.

He smiled sweetly at her, as if he appreciated that she'd asked him. Or maybe he was just amused.

“Yeah, sure, I said so,” Oliver said, giving Chad an annoyed look back.

“I'm all right with it,” she said to Oliver. “I just wish you'd told me sooner.”

“He wasn't ready to admit it…before,” Chad said. He shrugged. “It just sort of happened.”

“Okay, um… Well, let me get out of your hair,” she said. “I'll call you before I return for my stuff.” She hadn't thought she'd need to, if he hadn't been seeing anyone. She sure didn't want to walk into the place and find they were…busy.

“Yeah, sure,” Oliver said.

Still reeling with the news as she left the condo and tossed her bags into the car, she tried to tell herself she understood now why Oliver had been acting so strangely. She only wished she'd known before she moved in with him. Now she had to find a place of her own on such short notice.

Before she left Oliver's driveway, she called several people who might put her up for the night—but all of them were out of country on missions. Damn it. She knew one who wasn't. Huntley. And his girlfriend was away on a mission, but she wouldn't go there. Genista would smell Melissa's scent in their apartment, and then there'd be trouble between the two of them. And she certainly didn't want that to happen.

She'd even tried to get hold of Huntley's sister, Tammy, now married to another JAG agent. But Tammy and David were training four teens in nighttime operations and couldn't take any calls. She left a text message that she was looking for a place to crash for the night and decided to go to the jaguar club where she might run into some other agent who would be willing to allow her to stay the night. Otherwise, she was stuck getting a hotel, and she really didn't want to be alone tonight.

When she arrived at the club, the first vehicle that caught her eye was Huntley's. She shook her head. If nothing else, she could share a drink with him and see if he knew anyone else who was still in town that she could stay with for the night.