When Suzanne came back after work, a delicious fragrance filtered through her apartment. Tomato sauce, garlic, a hint of oregano. She found Josh propped on his crutches over the stove. He was bobbing his head in time to whatever was on his headphones. His t-shirt strained over his wide shoulders, and his cotton sweats clung to the muscles of his rear end. His shaggy blond hair swung down to his jaw, maybe even a little farther. He probably hadn’t cut it in a while. With a long wooden spoon, he stirred the sauce to the same rhythm that must be pumping through his headphones.
Honestly, she was surprised her panties didn’t just drop off her body at the mere sight of him. Whoever was in charge of handing out sexy had gone completely overboard when it came to Josh Marshall.
For a moment, she
