“You cry at a movie but not about your brother?”

“Got any brothers or sisters?”“No.”“Not a real chatty gal, are ya?”“Exactly how am I supposed to expand on not having siblings? Should I cry?”He smiled as he held up a bottle, “Wine?”

“My brother got shot three times two months ago, and he didn’t get the fever.” “I bet your family gets shot at a lot, huh?”

“Because isn’t that what the holidays are all about— letting your family make you wish you were an orphan?”

“Now y’all, cut it out. Brothers and sisters shouldn’t act like this.” Sissy stared at her brother’s mate. “Are you new to the neighborhood?”

“Wow,” the bobcat muttered from his desk. “Your sister’s right. Your legs really are skinny.”Toni briefly thought about swiping all the cat’s crap off his desk, but that wasn’t something she’d do to anyone who wasn’t one of her siblings. But that was the beauty of being one of the Jean-Louis Parker clan . . . sometimes you didn’t have to do anything at all, because there was a sibling there to take care of it for you.“It must be hard,” Kyle mused to the bobcat. “One of the superior cats. Revered and adored throughout history as far back as the ancient Egyptians. And yet here you sit. At a desk. A common drone. Taking orders from lowly canines and bears. Do your ancestors call to you from the great beyond, hissing their disappointment to you? Do they cry out in despair at where you’ve ended up despite such a lofty bloodline? Or does your hatred spring from the feline misery of always being alone? Skulking along, wishing you had a mate or a pack or pride to call your own? But all you have is you . . . and your pathetic job as a drone? Does it break your feline heart to be so . . . average? So common? So . . . human?”Toni cringed, which helped her not laugh.”

“Zach glanced out the window to what had to be the quietest town he’d ever been in. “Big gang problem around here? Lots of cow jacking?” “We have all sorts pass through our little town, thank you very much. Bikers. Cowboys. The always dangerous rodeo clowns.” “Rodeo clowns?” “Don’t ask.” Zach shrugged. “I don’t want to know.” “Any other condescending questions about my town?” “Oh, I’m not being condescending. I’m very interested in your tiny little town, with its tiny little people. I bet you guys even have a movie theater.” Sara barked out a laugh. “You certainly are a charmer.”