Page 62 of The Catch

She glanced once more at her list to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, then headed to the checkout. Josh helped her load all of the items onto the counter and a perky redhead, whom he’d been having a friendly conversation with all the while, informed them that the total came to $38.16.

Josh reached for his wallet in his back pocket, his body squared off in front of the card reader.

Cat dug through her purse. “I’ve got it, Josh.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, retrieving his card from its sleeve. “You’re gonna do the cooking. I’ll get the ingredients.”

“You don’t have to do that. I volunteered to make something.”

He smiled at her, his lip twitching in amusement as he dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

“Babe…”

He ignored her and swiped his card.

“Josh!”

Everyone around them froze, staring at her—except the cashier who turned away and pretended to organize some pens. Her face heated. She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “I said, I can get it.”

Josh regarded her face as if he didn’t recognize it. He took a step back, putting his hands up in surrender, and went to help the grey-haired man at the end of the line put the bags into their cart.

After an uncomfortable walk to the parking lot, Josh loaded the groceries into the back seat of Cat’s car while she warmed the engine. He climbed in beside her, switching off the radio. “You wanna tell me what that was about?” he asked, calmly but oh so seriously.

Cat kept her eyes trained on the windshield, counting down from ten to let her anger ebb away. She’d over-reacted, she knew that, but that didn’t mean it shouldn’t be said.

“Josh, I have a good job that I work very hard at. I take care of myself all week when you aren’t here. You don’t have to pay for everything all the time.”

He was quiet, gazing out the side window with his cheeks sucked in and his thumb tapping on his knee. Cat’s skin prickled with discomfort. She’d hurt his feelings. Or maybe he was pissed, and they were about to have their first fight. She wished she hadn’t said anything.

That was a first.

After a few excruciating moments, Josh nodded his head in the dark, turning toward her seat to catch her eye in the light from the dashboard. “Okay,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it bothered you.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, her cheeks burned over her outburst. All she could manage was a quiet, “thank you.”

The rest of the ride was comfortable, status quo—flirty even. They rehashed their long workdays and joked about being late to Emma’s because the recipe Cat had chosen was going to take all day to make. Neither one of them was interested in letting that awkward blip interfere with the rest of their night.

After putting away all of the groceries, Cat offered him a shower while she changed out of her work clothes and picked a movie to put on.

Josh met her on the couch, not long after. His bare chest was still damp, and his hair was tousled from being towel dried. He wore his glasses and the same pajama pants she’d borrowed in his hotel room. He looked refreshed, even as he fell hard into the cushions with a sigh.

“What’s this?” he asked, gesturing to the television. He didn’t wait for an answer, though. He hooked her arm and pulled her onto his lap.

Cat laughed then pressed her nose into his neck, taking a deep pull. He smelled like the soap he’d started keeping in her shower. Plain. Not scented with any botanicals or musk or herbs like all of her products, just clean. It was the sexiest scent she’d ever inhaled, and she thought they should bottle him up and sell it to all those boys who liked to spray themselves with faux masculinity.

“I missed you,” she said, her words coming out a little bit strangled.

“I missed you too.”

“I know it’s late, and you’re exhausted, but I’m glad you didn’t wait until tomorrow to drive up.”

“That wasn’t even an option, Cat.” He slid his hands up her sides and underneath her shirt, looking pleasantly surprised that she’d already removed her bra when she’d changed out of her work clothes.

Cat tossed her head back, letting him re-acquaint himself with every part of her body, his familiar touch pulling a sigh from deep inside her chest. Sometimes, when she was without him with only his voice on the telephone and her own memories, she would try to recreate the feeling of him, but her body knew the difference.

Whatever television station she’d been stuck on suddenly switched to a commercial, and the volume change startled them both.

“Are you watching this?” he asked, his eyes glinting with building intent.

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