Mustang Summer (The Walker Five Book 2)

by Marie Johnston

  A woman approached Brock. She wore hospital scrubs and still managed to show off curves galore.

  Josie snagged her bag of lotion and zeroed in on the woman flirtatiously tossing her messy ponytail around her boyfriend. Josie got close enough to make out what they were saying.

  “Wondering what you’re doing this weekend.” Ugh, even the woman’s voice was sexy.

  “Working.”

  “You’re always working. But you and I both know you take a night off once in a while.”

  Josie almost swallowed her tongue. These two had a history.

  How did she feel about that? Sure, she was a little raw from getting cheated on, but her and Gage were history and she still had to interact with him. But Brock didn’t know she worked with her ex. She slowed her steps, needed to see how this was going to play out.

  “So, whaddya say?” the woman continued “We grab a bite Friday night and hang out?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Josie suppressed a chortle. Only Brock would give a woman a simple turn down. She sidled around the scorned woman and twined her hand around Brock’s bicep.

  He filed his magazine back in place. “Nice to see you again,” he told the girl he’d just shut down and started for the door.

  The poor girl looked horribly embarrassed. Josie resisted a smug grin as Brock towed her out of the store. His replies had all sounded programmed and from what she knew of him, they probably were.

  They settled back into his truck and he took off back for his house.

  Josie stared out the window, but something about the whole drugstore scenario bothered her. Why? Brock had been asked out by a gorgeous woman, one he may have hooked up with before, and he’d said no.

  She mulled it over as they passed fields that were slowly turning golden brown and fields with giant sunflower heads swiveling to track the sun. Signs of the big storm showed in areas; trees were downed and sections of the crops were flattened, but overall, they looked healthy. Her talk with Brock earlier snaked through her thoughts.

  Ah, that was what bugged her. “Did you think of telling her you had a girlfriend?”

  “Why would I need to?” One arm was slung over the steering wheel, accentuating his broad shoulders. His black hair curled around the rim of his hat. Brock was hot and it wasn’t going to be the last time he was propositioned by someone.

  Why would I need to? Josie’s initial reaction was to be offended, but she had to get over that. He’d said no to Friday night with the sexy nurse because he wasn’t interested in her.

  “I’d feel better if women knew you were taken. So if any more try to ask you out…”

  He nodded in understanding. “Tell them I have a girlfriend.”

  “I know it’s not necessary, but it’d make me feel better.” Although…she thought of Camilla—it might make some girls try harder.

  But Brock wasn’t Gage.

  “I don’t know why she wanted a date.” Brock parked in front of his house. “She called me an insensitive prick who had no idea how to treat a woman before she broke up with me.”

  “Sounds like she was the insensitive prick.”

  Brock sighed and adjusted his hat. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore.”

  Josie smiled. Things were over between her and Gage, but she didn’t want to discuss him or how it ended. “I don’t, either. Open the windows to get a breeze through here and let’s make out.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Mr. Blackwell helped Brock load the Shelby onto the flatbed trailer hitched to Brock’s truck. Brock would’ve preferred to do it himself, but Respect your elders was another of his mom’s sayings. Follow their direction, don’t argue with them—yes, Brock, even if you’re right. Just remember, you might not be as right as you think.

  Mr. Blackwell knew his car, though. Brock appreciated the constant commentary of everything he’d done to the car over the years.

  He checked over all the fastenings, but as he got closer to the driver’s door, Josie stayed him with a hand on his arm.

  He was about to ask what was wrong, when she inclined her head toward Mr. Blackwell.

  The old man was staring at the Shelby mounted on the trailer. His eyes were shiny and he held his weathered hat over his heart.

  “Let’s give him a few moments before we take off,” Josie whispered.

  Brock was deciding between standing awkwardly by his door or backing away when Josie crossed to Mr. Blackwell and threw her arms around him. He muttered some gruff words in her ear. They broke apart and he shuffled toward the house. Josie wiped her cheeks.

  “Is that what it’s like to have grandparents?” she asked after they both climbed into the truck and drove away.

  Brock mulled over the question but couldn’t figure out what she was asking. “What do you mean?”

  “Kind people who say things that make you think they really care.” She wiggled in her seat until her legs were tucked under her as much as the seatbelt would allow. “My dad’s parents retired to Florida and I never see them. It would’ve been cool to get to know them. They immigrated here from Brazil, but moved as soon as my dad was old enough to be on his own. Hated Minnesota weather. My grandpa used to call me his little Mustang when he’d call.” She chuckled. “His filly that runs wild and free. My mom’s parents both passed when I was young. I hardly remember them.”

  Brock had a close-knit family and that included grandparents. “I don’t know how to answer your question.” Man, it was nice to just be able to say that without worrying about the following interrogation. “My Gram lives in the nursing home. We lost Gramps when I was in high school. My mom’s parents are snowbirds who stay in Arizona year ’round instead of just the winter.”

  “You had them all around growing up?”

  “Yes. Big family gatherings. We’ll still smuggle Gram out of the home for holiday gatherings and barbeques. We’re having one this weekend if you want to stay.”

  She didn’t answer. He glanced at her. Instead of being pleased at his invitation, her mouth was set and tears brimmed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She looked at him in surprise and blinked back the tears. “Is the big gathering because my brother’s getting sentenced?”

  “I don’t know. Probably.” He wasn’t clueless enough to miss the connection between her tears and their party because her brother was put away. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.” She focused out the passenger window as he turned onto the highway that’d take them back to Moore.

  “I don’t need to go. It’s at Travis’s place.” But his cousins had discussed having it on the cement pad that survived her brother’s arson. “We’ll have our own barbeque.”

  “That’s really sweet, but I shouldn’t keep you away from your—” She twisted in her seat, her mouth pulled down as she peered behind them.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I thought I saw a car that looked familiar, but I can’t see around the Shelby.”

  Brock let off the gas to slow down.

  “No,” she almost shouted. Then she flopped around to face forward. “Just keep driving.”

  Josie didn’t talk much the rest of the way home, and neither did he. She continued to monitor the rearview mirror with a line creasing her forehead.

  The turn for the road to his place approached. “Are we still being followed?”

  “No,” she said, her voice dull. “I must’ve been seeing things.”

  When they arrived at his place, he swung around to back the trailer into the barn where he’d made room especially for the Shelby. It wouldn’t take much work before he’d move it to the long garage, but he’d get the grunge out of it and outline was needed to be done.

  Josie followed his directions as they rolled the car off the trailer. Brock left her by the car to park the trailer and unhitch it. He left Josie unhooking the straps and parked his truck.

  Dillon rolled into the yard and aimed straight for the barn. Brock jogged to meet him. Di
llon might possess more manors than Cash, but Brock wasn’t going to leave Josie alone with him. It was Dillon who had the right to hold a grudge.

  Brock met him before he reached the barn.

  Dillon rolled down his window. “I saw you pass by when I was unhooking the sprayer.” He peered into the barn. “You got the Shelby.”

  “Josie just helped me off-load it.”

  Dillon got out, but didn’t make a move to go into the barn. “Things serious between you two?”

  How’d he answer? He wasn’t interested in anyone else. He dreamed of her. Her body soothed him like no candle, hammock, or melody ever could. “I like her.”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about.” Dillon dropped his tone. “I don’t trust her.”

  “I do. She’s my girlfriend.”

  Dillon’s eyebrow shot up.

  Light footsteps crunched in the barn and Josie emerged. Her expression fell when she saw Dillon standing next to him.

  She scooted to Brock’s side and twined her fingers through his. Dillon didn’t miss the action.

  “Here for your brother’s sentencing?” he asked.

  She nodded and squeezed his hand. “I am.”

  “He’s lucky to have such a loyal sister.” Dillon’s tone was even.

  “Well, his mom and dad are dead and his step-dad doesn’t give a shit.” Josie’s defensive tone was obvious, even to Brock. He squeezed her hand in return and she seemed to deflate. “He and I only ever had each other. I’m going to support him, no matter who I’m dating.”

  Dillon’s eyes narrowed on her, then on their clasped hands. “Who—why…why was he so bitter over land that hadn’t been in the family for sixty years?”

  Josie feathered her hair behind an ear. Brock hoped she answered, he was curious, too, but never thought of asking. What Jesse did was done.

  “His dad told his mom about what had happened to his uncle and I’m sure she mentioned it to Bill—my dad. When Bill cut Jesse off from his business, I could imagine him holding the lost family treasure over Jesse’s head.”

  “But he was a grown man.” Dillon’s words lacked bite, but he sounded like he didn’t understand as much as Brock didn’t.

  “A man who’d just lost his mom, never knew his own dad, and the man he considered his dad had just cast him off like he meant less than an employee. I was too devastated to see what Jesse was going through. I had my own drama, and like always, he protected me. Next thing I knew, he’d moved here saying he just had to get away. Then he was in jail.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about…”

  “I know,” Josie sighed. “Losing our mom was a terrible time for us. But it doesn’t condone what he did.”

  “I understand how hard it can be to lose a parent.” Dillon cleared his throat and started for the barn. “Hey, Brock, gonna show me the new car?”

  The tension in Brock eased. If Dillon could accept Josie, the rest would follow his lead. The mess with her brother had impacted her life enough, Brock didn’t want it to interfere any more than it had. He couldn’t understand why his cousins kept bringing up the trust issue. If Brock didn’t trust her, he wouldn’t be with her.

  ***

  The next morning, Josie woke to voices.

  A man whose voice she didn’t recognize spoke. “She’s nice, real nice.”

  Were they talking about her?

  “I thought you’d like to help me fix her up.”

  Ah, the car. The man must be Brock’s dad. She sat up and shoved her hair off her face. Had Brock expected them, or was it a surprise visit?

  The sickening pit in her gut was back. They probably came for the sentencing.

  “Have you got company, Brockie?” a woman asked.

  Josie’s mouth twitched. Brockie. That must be his mom.

  “Josie’s been staying with me for a few days until her brother’s hearing.”

  Well, that cat’s out of the bag.

  Voices lowered until Josie would have to spy on them to hear, but she didn’t think they were telling Brock anything his cousins hadn’t. You can’t trust her. She might be like her brother.

  Josie slipped out of bed and dressed as fast as she could. She shoved a comb through her hair. The choppy style was growing on her, but she missed being able to throw it up in a messy bun to get it out of her eyes.

  But now she knew that if she grew it out, it was because she wanted it long, not Gage. She couldn’t imagine Brock dictating her hairstyle. No, wait. She could imagine Brock saying the way he liked it and why, but not expect her to adhere to his wishes.

  She ducked into the bathroom before greeting Brock’s parents. A quick freshen up, then she strode into the kitchen with her shoulders back.

  Brock’s mom spotted her first and Josie read several emotions in the woman’s gaze. Speculation, delight, but more than a touch of suspicion. She was about Josie’s height with sharp blue eyes and rich brown hair. The man scowling at her was a little unexpected. He was an older version of Brock with brown hair graying at his temples.

  “Hi, Josie. I’m Nancy. And this is Greg.” She stretched out a hand for Josie. “I’m sorry we popped in unannounced. We didn’t expect Brock to have company, but I have to say, I’d love to hear the story of how you two met.”

  Josie laughed softly as she accepted the handshake. Nancy Walker was refreshingly blunt, but not obnoxious like his cousin Cash. “It’s not that interesting of a story. I just really loved his cars but was too afraid to ask to see them. You can understand why.”

  “Just Mustangs, or all cars?” Brock’s dad stood with his arms crossed, and while he was gruff, his expression showed genuine interest.

  Brock went back to washing dishes, leaving Josie pinned between his parents. She didn’t sense hostility from them, but Brock’s support would’ve been appreciated. At the same time, she interpreted his need to finish dishes as not only part of his routine, but his assumption that she could handle herself. And she liked that idea.

  “Mustangs rank pretty high, and Brock’s worked on some beauties. But I’ll admit, I’m partial to Chargers.”

  Brock paused in his task and twisted to look over his shoulder. “I didn’t know that.”

  She smiled. “You don’t have any Chargers for me to gush over.”

  “You drive a Mustang.” Greg pointed out.

  “My dad owns a car garage and it’d been totaled. He bought it for nothing and fixed it up.”

  Greg grunted. “I bet insurance wasn’t happy.”

  “It would’ve been sadder seeing it go to the scrapyard when it still had a lot of life, just needed someone who knew what they were doing.” Bill did know what he was doing—it was why he did everything that messed him up.

  “Doesn’t take much to total them nowadays.” Greg glanced at Brock to see if he was done with dishes, then nodded to her and his wife and went outside, presumably in search of the Shelby.

  Nancy had been watching them with a bemused expression, but she indicated the plate on the counter. “I think that’s for you.”

  Eggs and sausage. Brock’s breakfast du jour. Josie might do her own thing for food eventually, but having been in charge of meals since her mom died, she didn’t mind being served for once.

  Nancy rummaged through a cupboard and pulled out a small coffee maker.

  “I bought fresh coffee a couple of weeks ago,” Brock said while putting freshly dried dishes away.

  “That’s thoughtful, dear, thank you.”

  Thoughtful, or practical? In Brock’s case, his practicality was his form of thoughtfulness.

  Brock almost passed her before heading outside, but she snagged his arm. He gave her a questioning look before she pulled him in for a quick kiss.

  “I’d like a good-bye kiss before you leave,” she whispered.

  “I’m not leaving, just going outside.”

  “Then first thing in the morning.”

  He nodded and kissed her again before leaving.

  She turned back to her
food. Nancy’s gaze leaped between Josie and Brock’s departing form.

  What did she say? I know we’re all special, but your son is a different type of special.

  “You two seem to get along,” Nancy commented.

  “I like him.”

  “He likes you. He said so.”

  Josie smiled to herself. He’d told her, too. “Did he mention that my paternal grandparents aren’t the same as Jesse’s and I have no perceived claim to any land?”

  “Yes, but you have to understand why your relationship unsettles us.”

  Straightforward. “I understand, but I love my brother, flaws and all. I didn’t know what he was doing, but he told me about Brock’s wicked car collection. Or I thought it was a collection; I didn’t realize it was also a side business.”

  An honest one, too. Nancy got the coffee going. The smell swamped Josie in the feeling of home. Her mom had drunk coffee and had used the same beat-up coffee maker for years. Bill had tossed it when he’d finally gotten around to packing Mom’s things up after the funeral.

  Before Josie knew it, she was rattling on. “I used to work for Bill—my dad—but he cut me off the automotive side. Didn’t want me around all the guys.” Or accessible to Don Milton. “The closest I got after that was changing my own oil in the house garage, and doing the books. I even wanted to get an auto tech degree in college, but my parents insisted on a four-year business degree.”

  “It’s not unwise.”

  “No,” Josie sighed. “I saw where they were coming from and since they paid for college…” More than they’d done for Jesse. Her mom had tried, but instead Bill was content to leave Jesse saddled with student loans.

  “So do you do something you enjoy now?”

  Josie shrugged. “I don’t care for bookkeeping or taking care of Alvarez Automotive’s accounts, but there’s worse work. I just wish I could go out and tinker.”

  “Why don’t you?” Nancy raised her coffee cup to the window where the barn was across the gravel lot, as if to ask why Josie didn’t run out and dive in.

  “Think they’d mind?”

  “Greg won’t. He’ll want to see what you know. I don’t know about Brock. He can be…”