Her hands fisted. Of course, he’d talked to Gage already. How much of the trouble they were in was Gage’s idea? “What’s the plan?”
Bill stood up, his wary gaze drifting in the direction Milton had left. “We’ve got it covered. Don’t worry about it.”
He adjusted the waistband of his ratty jeans and wobbled out of the kitchen. She abandoned her pancake batter to go after him.
“Don’t worry about it? The less I know, the easier it is for a guy like that to sneak up on me. Like he just did.”
He paused in his trajectory that led to his recliner. “That reminds me. You need to make sure you’re with me or Gage at all times. Don’t go around town by yourself until I pay back Don Milton.”
Her eyes bugged out. Did he seriously think she was going run to Gage for protection? What would she do when he banged Camilla, or what’s-her-name? Wait outside the door?
Arguing would be pointless. This was her teenage years all over again.
She rubbed her eyes, not because she was tired, but because guilt suddenly became an anvil hanging off her neck.
She hadn’t wanted to hurt an old man’s feelings and she’d sunk her dad because of it. No ’68 Shelby, no hundred thousand dollars. Teaching Bill a lesson had seemed so much clearer before she’d met Don Milton.
A shudder of horror shook her shoulders and she dropped her hands. She couldn’t believe what just happened. Bill settled into his chair for a long afternoon of watching golf and hiding from his self-inflicted problems.
Spend all her time with him or Gage, huh? The timing worked out well. She could let Brock know that she would go with him to pick up the Shelby. “I’ll be out of town next week for Jesse’s sentencing. I’ll take a few extra days, so you don’t have to worry about me.”
Bill paused with the remote aimed at the TV. Was he going to agree? “Yeah, that might be good. Stay out of town for a bit and with your brother’s legal troubles, Milton won’t go near Moore.”
Back in the kitchen, she started the griddle. She couldn’t bring herself to waste an entire batch of batter. Money was going to be tight for a while. While she cooked, she figured out ways to bring in extra money with her fledgling graphic design business. Accepting a paycheck from Alvarez Automotive meant she would be taking Don Milton’s strings-attached money.
She rolled her neck and sighed at the grease-stained ceiling. Those stains represented her mom’s years taking care of all of them. She hadn’t worked outside the home, but relied on Bill to bring in the dough while she made her own dough.
Josie thought back to what her dad had said about the first time he’d borrowed money. She hadn’t known they’d been in such trouble. Just like she hadn’t seen the signs of how sick her mom had been.
Figured. Her mom had carried her head high and her shoulders back even when Bill stayed out late and came home with his shirt tails hanging out and his fly half open. She’d brushed her tears away and chided Josie and Jesse to never mind.
So they hadn’t. She and her brother had gone on their merry way and look where the blinders had gotten them. Jesse in jail and Josie fearing for physical safety.
By the time breakfast was finished, she’d formulated her plan. She would work all weekend on her website and come up with a marketing plan and if Brock would let her stay for a few days, she could get some work done before they brought the Shelby home and she endured her brother’s sentencing.
Bill had told her not to worry about it, so fine, she wouldn’t. He’d do his thing and she’d do hers, and there’d be no trouble between them.
Chapter Eleven
Brock was under the hood of Dillon’s Chevy Silverado when the scuff of shoes on the floor distracted him. He pushed up to find Josie walking toward him.
The glossy black of her hair shone under his shop lights and her simple pink top complemented the natural flush in her cheeks. He hadn’t been imagining things. She was as stunning as he remembered.
“Hey,” he greeted and wiped his hands off.
She inclined her head toward the engine. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I hope. Just checking it over while the oil drains. Once I’m done, I’ll drive it back and trade it out for my pickup.”
Her smile broadened. “Will he be okay driving a Ford for a day?”
“He bitches about it every time.”
She pulled him down for a kiss. All thoughts of oil schedules faded when their lips met and his libido reminded him that it had been days since he’d held her.
He wanted to mold her into his body, but his hands weren’t clean, so he finished the kiss and went straight for the sink.
“I don’t want to ruin your clothes.”
“Maybe I should take them off. It’s better to let the oil drain for longer.”
He flipped off the water off and stalked back to her. Her hands were at her—what did women call those short pants? He didn’t care because her words had been serious.
Out of principle, he couldn’t take her in Dillon’s truck. The shop counter was grimy. His body was dying for her, but the house might as well be miles away. The Mustangs he was finishing in the garage didn’t belong to him.
She must’ve read into his body language and how his gaze touched every surface. “I have a blanket in my car. It’s a beautiful day out.”
He swallowed and nodded. It took a minute for her to retrieve the blanket and for him to find a shaded spot to spread it out. The secluded location would keep them protected from anyone who decided to stop by.
Josie didn’t waste time. She stripped down and the antsy feeling of the last several days left him in seconds. She was back. The days had seemed long and the nights empty with her gone. He’d climbed the fucking walls.
“I missed you,” he said as he freed himself.
She had to lift her attention off his manhood. “Really?”
“Really. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I just didn’t expect to hear it, but I missed you, too.” She helped him shed his shirt.
He had to take off his boots to get his pants off and he wanted to scream at the time it’d take. A naked Josie stood in front of him; he needed to be inside of her.
He reached for his wallet and— “Oh shit. I forgot to put in another condom.”
If the house seemed miles away before, it might as well be in another freaking county.
She worried her lower lip for a moment, then pulled him down to the blanket. “I have an idea.”
Brock found himself in the most erotic position he’d ever been in, and he never wanted to leave it. He was laying down, with his pants shoved as far down as they could go with his knees bent. Josie was draped over the top of him with her mouth wrapped around his bare cock. His face was buried in her folds and her scent enveloped him.
The suction she provided rocked his hips in response, but he held her still over his mouth; her wiggles interfered with his tasting.
The harder she sucked, the more his fingers curled into her butt cheeks. When she moaned over him, the sound reverberated up and down his shaft until his hips almost lifted off the ground.
Her swollen clit begged for his attention and he gave all of it. She bucked and writhed against his face, the actions turning him on more than he thought possible. Her juices flowed down his throat—if he could experience this every day of his life, it’d be a good one.
Her heat rivaled the outside temperatures. She grew wetter as her climax loomed. She bobbed her head faster and his own peak careened toward him.
Oh god. The ecstasy ripped through him. Her muffled moans and cries only fueled his orgasm. He didn’t stop licking her sweetness while he was coming and she didn’t let go of him, swallowing all of his release.
She rolled off of him and he went with her. They let go of each other and he helped her swivel around until her head was cradled in his shoulder.
“That was incredibly hot,” he growled. All the other times had blown his mind, but this position had been filed under “fanta
sy.” She was too good to be true.
“It was.” She lazily stroked his chest. “And it got me thinking. I’m sure we’re both clean and after we just did, well…I had a birth control device inserted a few years ago, so do we really need to keep using condoms?”
Fuck no. How good would it feel to slide into her heat with nothing between them? His well-satisfied manhood stirred.
“I’ve never not used one,” he admitted.
She propped herself up on an elbow. “You haven’t, either? I almost did, with an ex…” Her expression grew stormy. “But then I started to suspect him of cheating and I was right.”
“Asshole.”
“Pretty much.” She dropped a kiss on his shoulder. “Have you ever cheated on a girl?”
“No.”
She waited, but he didn’t know what else to say.
“Ever wanted to?”
“No. My relationships haven’t been long. They were always looking for something I couldn’t give them.”
“What was it?” She traced lines along his navel.
“Feelings.” What made him say that? But it was true. The girls had wanted him to go on and on about how he felt. “They couldn’t understand that I meant what I said and if I don’t say it…”
“You won’t tell a girl you love them if you don’t. You refused to play with their emotions. Or did you love them and didn’t tell them?”
He shrugged. The answer was yes and no. How would he know he loved them? And if he did, he wouldn’t tell them constantly. But he didn’t think he’d fallen hard for any of his past girlfriends. If he had, it would’ve bothered him more when they walked away.
“I don’t…I didn’t know…” Hell, how was he going to explain? This conversation was starting to resemble the ones that had ended his other short-lived relationships.
His stomach roiled and his chest tightened. Was Josie going to walk if he didn’t say the right things? Before, the breakups had left him saddened. He’d lose himself in work and move on. But if Josie ran out of his life like she’d charged out of the barn the day he tackled her… He swallowed hard.
She flattened her hand over his heart. “It’s okay, Brock.” Her lovely, chestnut eyes rose to meet his. “Are you autistic?”
She sucked in a breath like the question startled her as much as it did him.
Part of him wanted to sit up, shove himself back into his pants and avoid this inevitable conversation. The other part rejoiced that he could finally talk with someone that wasn’t his mother about it.
“They used to call it Asperger’s, but yeah, it’s still autism. High-functioning autism.”
She licked her lips and took her time forming her next question. “Is that why your basement is the way it is? The colors and the candles?”
He threw an arm behind his head and stared at the wispy, white clouds drifting by. “I went through a lot of therapy as a kid. I had—still have—sensory issues, but they’re not as bad.” Not after all that treatment. “I don’t need to go down there much to hang out, but I keep it that way—just in case.”
“I hope you don’t mind, I looked it up because I thought… You’re different, but not in a bad way. I just wanted to know.”
He frowned. “Wanted to know what?”
“About your routines. How you talk to me. How tense you got during the storm, stuff like that. I wanted to know you, but I was too afraid to ask. If we’re going to be, um, an us, then I think we should be open about it.” She hovered over him to block his view of the sky and force eye contact. “Are we a couple?”
He didn’t have to think about it. “I want to be.”
She smiled. “Me, too.”
Was this the revelation his mother had feared his whole life? Because it hadn’t been painful, and Josie wasn’t leaving yet.
“My family doesn’t know.”
Josie frowned. “They don’t? How could they not—you grew up with them?”
“My mom was afraid I’d get treated different, by my family and people in town. She was super protective and all our trips to Fargo were a contentious issue between her and my uncles.”
“Because they didn’t know it was for therapy?”
He nodded. “It cost money and took both of us away from work on the farm.”
“Why wouldn’t she just tell them? What are your aunts and uncles like?”
“Like my parents. There’s a mental health clinic in town and Mom assumed they’d demand she quit spending money on a Fargo therapist and go there. She said if we went there, it wouldn’t matter how confidential they kept things, our family business would become Moore’s business.”
Josie considered him so long he began to wonder what he’d said wrong.
“Hmm. Are you going to tell them?”
Brock sucked in a long breath and slowly released it. “No. She’s right. I don’t want to be treated different. Not by them.”
Josie cocked her head. “I can see why. But…I don’t think it’d matter.” The corner of her mouth tilted up. “You all seem pretty protective of each other.”
“We are. But I’m not telling them.”
She blinked and her smile dropped. “Okay.”
Damn. Had he gone and ruined the moment? Should he say something? Apologize for… He wasn’t sure, but he hadn’t wanted to hurt her feelings.
His worries were wiped out when she dropped her head for a kiss that went from sweet to smoking. His body had recovered from their encounter and blood rushed to his shaft.
She straddled him without breaking their kiss and the press of her naked body turned him hard as stone. Without delay, she slid down his length and rode him hard until he was barking out his second orgasm of the day.
***
Josie scratched her butt cheek and dug through the medicine closet in Brock’s bathroom. No calamine lotion.
Stupid mosquitoes. Can’t fuck her boyfriend under the clear blue sky without them feasting all over her bare ass.
“I can’t find any,” she called out to where he was washing their dinner dishes. It was his thing. He ate and then he did dishes. If she wasn’t done, he still ate, then did dishes. Nothing for her to get offended about because routine was important to him and while the therapy he mentioned must’ve helped him a ton, he still craved specific routines.
“The drugstore is open until seven. We can run to town.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t get bitten.” She peered at the red welts in the mirror. Three puffy, red mosquito bites. Waite Park sprayed every year, and maybe Moore did, too, just not out in the boondocks.
“They never bother me much and I’m usually covered.”
Yes, he was. Black cotton T-shirt and blue jeans, his daily uniform. She’d looked at all the tags in his laundry. One hundred percent cotton, every shirt.
And she was glad to hear he wasn’t often stripped down in the great outdoors with a girl. Still, bugs or no, she planned to have her way with her man out in the open again. The wind softly rustling through the trees, a gentle breeze to keep them cool, and vibrant nature all around—who knew she was such a country girl?
“Ready to go?” He was at the top of the stairs, holding a set of keys. “I can swap out trucks on our way.”
Her gut twisted. Would it be too much to ask that they get in and out without her having to endure another cousin? And Dillon of all people?
But she was serious about this thing with Brock, so she’d have to face his family, vandal brother or no.
They arrived at Dillon’s. His place was cute, except for the empty slab of cement where her brother had burned down his shop. The yard was neat and tidy like Brock’s and surrounded by three rows of various trees. That seemed to be the Walker thing—three rows of trees around the property. The house was newer and a ranch instead of a split level. A dog barked and ran parallel to them until Brock parked Dillon’s truck next to his F250.
Brock climbed out and ordered the dog to sit before rewarding her with some petting. The dog now pe
rfectly docile, Josie climbed out and startled when her gaze landed on Elle approaching them.
The woman’s expression was circumspect, but not hostile. Josie’s stomach churned. Jesse had told her how he’d hit on Dillon’s girlfriend. Not out of any real interest, but to get to Dillon. Elle, for her part, had never sat in court shooting daggers at Jesse or making a scene of any kind. She’d looked as thrilled to be there as Josie had felt.
“You just missed Dillon.” Elle gestured to Brock’s pickup. “But he took my car just in case you swung by to drop his off.” Her lips twitched. “I think he secretly likes to see what he can get the car to do.”
“Thank you, Elle.” Brock dutifully went to the passenger side of his truck and opened it for Josie.
Elle watched them with interest.
“Hey.” Josie wasn’t sure what else to say, but felt like it had to be something.
“Nice to see you under different circumstances.” Elle’s tone was neutral, careful.
Josie tried to smile in return, but it was a sad one. “Yeah. Hope you’re doing well.”
She scurried into the pickup, grateful for Brock’s lack of chatting ambition.
Brock passed Elle information about Dillon’s ride before he climbed in.
They drove to town in silence. Elle seemed nice and absolutely not the vindictive sort. Josie would like to get to know her, would like to be on good terms with all of them, but it was hard to get over the hump of feeling like a traitor to her closest relative.
The drugstore was a greeting card and pharmacy combo. She went in search of calamine while Brock paged through the magazine rack.
Josie found what she was looking for and went to pay. She could see him from the register and what a nice view. His muscles bunched as he turned the magazine page and his strong profile sent her heart racing.
She’d get to snuggle up against that again tonight, too.
What they’d done earlier… When had she gotten so bold? But she was comfortable around Brock. That was as good an explanation as any for why she sat on his face.
A blush heated her cheeks. She finished checking out, hoping the clerk didn’t think she had a fever.
Mustang Summer (The Walker Five Book 2) Page 13
