“Fuck you.” The other man shrugged out of Owen’s grip, then pointed at Josh. “That was assault.”
“Don’t fucking trespass.” The words dripped ice. Josh wasn’t scared about the assault charge in the slightest.
Owen patted the guy heavily on the shoulder, ushering him out the door, and Josh followed.
When the brothers turned around and stepped inside, Monica sagged against the pillar.
“Was he a photographer?” she asked.
Josh shook his head. “Investigator. Low level. He texted someone that he’d located you, and that person asked for photographs of you and me together.”
She shivered. “Did the person have a name?”
“Not in his phone, but I texted myself the contact card.” He pulled out his own phone and handed it over. “Recognize this number?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Probably a burner.” He looped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her tightly into his side as he glanced at his brother. “Did you stop by for something other than catching a sneak with me?”
“I wanted to ask a brotherly favour, but it can wait.”
Monica shifted in Josh’s hold to look at Owen. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay. Ask whatever you need.”
Owen frowned for a second, and in that moment, the brother similarity was so strong. “It’s just that I forgot to sign up for the winter tire swap out calendar, and now it’s full online. Can I get our vehicles in at the start or end of one of the days?”
Josh nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Thanks.”
“Wednesday is better than later in the week.”
“Noted. Thanks.”
And then Owen was gone, and they were alone in the middle of the garage. Josh was still hugging her like he had no intention of letting her go.
She wrapped her arms around his middle and pressed her cheek against his body.
“That was hard,” he finally muttered. “I got a weird vibe off him right off the top. His resume was bullshit. I just wanted to tell him to get the fuck away from my wife, even before he tried to take your picture. And as soon as he lifted his phone, I knew I should have kicked him out sooner.”
Monica pulled back to look at his face. “Hey, it’s okay.”
He shook his head. “It’s not. It’s fucking not. I…” He puffed his cheeks out and exhaled. “Ah, fuck.”
“What?”
His arms softened around her, like he might let go, but then he didn’t.
Instead, he lowered his head and covered her mouth. It was a kiss, but it wasn’t. It was a pause. It was a need for a moment.
He didn’t take anything. Didn’t pull her tongue into his mouth, didn’t force his into hers. He just…connected them. She could feel his pulse through his lips, and then there was a slight tremor. So slight, if they were actually kissing in a more active way, she might not notice it.
“Josh,” she whispered.
He growled and sank his hand into her hair, fisting his fingers at the base of her skull. Holding her still.
Monica gasped, but not from fear. This was different. This was Josh showing her that he was hers and no one else's. That she mattered. She leaned into his embrace, deepening the connection between them.
His mouth finally, finally moved against hers, taking control but not in a forceful way. It was like he was trying to convey a message that words couldn't express. His tongue brushed across her bottom lip and the tremor in his body grew stronger.
