don’t need a pep talk,” Ben said after they’d been walking for a few minutes. “I called my sister last night, and she gave me one. This is all just…so different.”
“Second career?” Oliver guessed.
“I was in HR before. Got laid off.”
Oliver almost exclaimed his disbelief—with a body like that, he was in HR?—but restrained himself. “Going from HR to FUC…that’s a big leap.”
“So I’m discovering.” Ben shot Oliver a quick grin. “But I really do like it. I think I can make a difference with FUC, you know? It’s just tough, coming up against obstacles I didn’t anticipate.”
“No pun intended.”
Ben laughed, and Oliver’s stomach sank. Oh no. Ben had an awesome laugh—low and deep and rumbly, as though he was letting out emotions he felt in the core of his being. It tugged at Oliver, wanting him to give in, to smile or laugh in return, and that was just bad.
He cleared his throat. “So, uh, the other courses?”
“Are they giving me trouble? No. Actually, I think I’m doing really well in all of them. And never in a million years did I think that physical fitness would be the skill set giving me issues.” He cast Oliver a sidelong glance, opened his mouth, closed it, and finally burst out, “How the hell are you so flexible?”
“You sound like you’re accusing me of something.”
“I—I’m not. It’s just…how?”
“I’m a whooping crane.”
“A what?”
“A whooping crane. It’s a bird.”
“I know a crane is a bird, but the only whooping I know is whooping cough.”
Oliver squinted. “Funny. I’ve never heard that before.”
Ben had the grace to look embarrassed. “Sorry.”
Oliver sighed and peeled off his shirt. “Here. Hold this.”
“I—what the—” Ben sputtered but let Oliver drape his shirt over his outstretched hand. His eyes widened as Oliver stripped off his pants next. “Uh, seriously, you don’t have to—”
Oliver tossed his underwear at Ben, and shifted.
It felt good to be in his feathers again. Despite working for FUC, he didn’t get enough chances to stretch his wings. They wanted him for his human knowledge and flexibility, after all. He used his long, sharp beak to reposition a couple of his flight feathers, surreptitiously looking at Ben to gauge his reaction.
“You’re…tall.” Ben blinked. “Like, really tall.”
If Oliver had his human lips, he’d tell Ben that whooping cranes were the tallest birds in North America, thank you very much. He arched his neck and let out a bugle.
Ben winced. “Holy shit, and loud.”
Oliver fluffed up his feathers with pride. Yes, yes he was. He shifted back to his human form and grinned as Ben shoved his clothes at him. “So there. Now you know what a whooping crane is. Don’t forget.”
“Right. Okay, sure. I won’t. Uh…yeah.” He coughed. “So, my classes.”
Oliver chuckled softly to himself as he pulled on his pants. Typically in a shifter show-and-tell, there was some reciprocation…but asking Ben to shift might make the poor guy even redder in the face than he currently was. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”
“Yeah. Thanks. I think I’m enjoying the investigative skills one the most. It’s analytical thinking—which I did all the time in my HR role. Trying to determine why a specific department was seeing turnover, trying out methods to retain employees, and so on. Now it’s taking those problem-solving skills and putting them up against new puzzles. It’s awesome.”
Awesome. Right. Just like finding out that despite his brawn, Ben was nothing like the assholes Oliver had been attracted to in the past.
Wait. No. That wasn’t awesome. That was scary.
Ben was still looking away from Oliver, even though Oliver had finished dressing. “I’m especially looking forward to the undercover training. Nervous about it, but looking forward to it. That will be completely new, pretending to be someone else, but I think I can do it. I feel like I can.” Ben broke off, his cheeks still pink but not as fluorescently so as they’d been a few moments before. “And, uh, how about you?”
“My favorite class is yoga.”
Ben laughed and finally looked back at Oliver, and this time Oliver couldn’t resist smiling. Finding ways to make that happy sound burst out of Ben could be a fun pastime.
Oh boy, he was in trouble.
“No, I mean, did you always want to work for FUC?”
“Honestly, it had never occurred to me until about a year or so ago. This is my second career choice too.”
“Really? I mean—no offense—but you can’t be older than twenty-five.”
Oliver shot him a brilliant grin. “I’m twenty-eight, actually, so thank you.”
Ben blushed some more, and Oliver