One Good Reason (Boston Love #3)(76)

“It’s strange,” he says conversationally. “I thought when we finally met, it would be under different circumstances. You know — me on one side of an interrogation room and you shackled to a stainless steel table... Clover.”

I tug my arm away and glare at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play me for a fool.” His eyes narrow. “I recognize your virus. Never seen anything else like it — no one at the Bureau has. Whether you want it or not, it’s your trademark.”

I bite down on my lip. “So, what, you’re going to arrest me?”

“No.” He rises to his feet. “Though I’d like to talk to you about a job.”

A laugh bursts from my lips. “You’re kidding.”

He shakes his head, deadly serious.

“You want to offer me a job? At the FBI?”

He nods slowly.

I throw my head back at laugh. And laugh. And then I laugh some more.

“This is not the reaction I was expecting,” he mutters lowly.

“I’m sorry,” I say, wiping the corner of my eye. “What were you expecting?”

“Maybe ‘Oh, thank you Conor, for agreeing not to arrest me and offering me a stable job with a 401k and benefits.’ Something along those lines.”

I try to contain my mirth, but it escapes again.

Nate’s voice interrupts. “Don’t tell me he’s trying to recruit you.”

Still giggling, I glance at him. “Totally.”

Nate grins at Conor. “Hate to break it to you, but if she’s working for anyone, it’s going to be me.”

My laughter dries up as I stare at him. “Wait… are you serious?”

Nate nods.

“You want me to work here?” I ask incredulously, glancing around the immaculate office. “At Knox Investigations?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Is this like… a pity thing?” I dart a glance at Parker, who I find is watching this entire exchange with alert eyes. “Did Phoebe or Parker force you to offer me a job?”

Nate’s already dark irises seem to get even darker. “Let’s get something straight. You’re trouble. Knew it the first time I saw you. And I don’t like trouble. Not around me, not around my best friend, not around the woman I love.”

“Gee, thanks,” I mutter.

“Turns out, doesn’t matter what I like,” he continues. “Phoebe and Parker both claimed you. They want you around. That means I’m claiming you, too.” His eyes narrow a fraction. “Sure as shit doesn’t mean I have to offer you a job, though, even if they begged me. This place, the work we do here – it’s not something I’d risk f*cking up for a friend who wanted a favor.”

I blink.

“So, no, Zoe – it’s not a pity thing. You’re better with computers than anyone on the East Coast. If you worked here, you’d be doing me a favor. Not the other way around.” His voice goes soft. “Why do you think Gallagher here is so eager to add you to the FBI ranks? The government doesn’t have half your skill – nor do they have the same employee benefits I can offer, for the record.”

Conor glares at Nate. “We have dental.”

Nate grins wider. “We have actual salaries.” His eyes cut to me. “Six figures, to start. Think about it.”

I swallow hard, all laughter replaced by shock, and force myself to nod. “I will definitely think about it.”

“Good.” Nate turns to Conor. “So, let’s talk logistics. I imagine you have an idea how you want this to go down.”

The agent nods. “Give me a few days. I’ll set things in motion on my end, then touch base. We don’t want to spook Lancaster or have him send more cronies to attack Zoe.” He looks at me with those piercing blue eyes and I see the hint of something almost warm in their depths, if only for a sliver of an instant. “Nice meeting you, Clover. You ever change your mind about that job, want to make an actual difference in the world… you give me a call.”

“I’d be more inclined to consider it if you’d stop calling me Clover in the official FBI database.”

His lips twitch. “You don’t like the nickname?”

“Something slightly more badass would be preferable.”

“Sorry.” Conor shrugs. “Too late to change it now. You’re already branded.”

“Don’t worry, darling.” Parker wraps an arm around my waist. “I’ll call you all the badass nicknames you want.” He pauses. “So long as the nickname you want to be called is snookums, of course.”

I elbow him in the side. “Ignore him,” I tell Conor a little desperately.

“Snookums?” Conor smirks. “Definitely badass.”

I glare up at Parker. “See what you did? You’re ruining my street cred.”

He leans down and kisses me. “Uh huh.”

“I’m serious, playboy.”

“I can see that, darling.”

I plant my hands on my hips and glare at every man in the room, my gaze sweeping from Parker to Conor to Nate to Luca to Owen to Theo. Infuriatingly, they’re all grinning at me.