Josephine might appear fragile, but something about her appealed to the rough crew who by nature of blood were like family to him. Blood or not, though, she is mine, and my brothers better have the sense to keep away. His beast stirred in his mind and growled in agreement.

Clint didn’t let go of her hand until he had closed the door to the upstairs office behind them. He no sooner ushered her into a chair than Brandon breezed in with a grin and perched himself on the edge of Clint’s desk.

Josephine huddled in the chair, her lip-biting trepidation back, but he also smelled the desire and was jolted to realize some of her shyness might stem from her reaction to them. She probably had a strong desire to touch them, an urge she assumably couldn’t understand. An overwhelming desire for contact that Clint-and, he’d bet, Brandon -fought. Even though he’d known vaguely what to expect when he met the one, there was no denying words couldn’t adequately describe it.

“So, when can you start?” Clint asked when the silence drew out.

Her brows creased in a frown. “Don’t you want to ask me some questions first?”

“Are you single?” blurted Brandon, which made Josephine’s eyes widen.

Clint bit back a curse, even as he wanted the answer. He hurried to cover his friend’s gaffe. “What he means to say is sometimes we need to work late, and that a significant other might object.”

His explanation eased some of the tension in her shoulders. “Oh. I don’t have anyone waiting for me at home except for my cat, so working late isn’t an issue.”

A cat? Clint’s beast snorted in disdain, and Clint fought not to smile. His wolf had little use or like for felines. I wonder how she feels about canines with great, big teeth. Clint proceeded to ask her proper interview questions, ignoring Brandon ’s puzzled glances. His best friend didn’t have a subtle bone in his body.