“Aren’t you going to run his, too?” She kept her voice more innocent than obnoxious; she still had to walk out of here without them learning who she was. Besides, Max taking Brock’s word on what happened—even if it was factual—smacked too much like how her dad had hung on her ex’s every word. “He attacked me.”
“I’m sorry, Ms.…” he glanced back at her license, “Alvarez. You are on private property. It’s posted.”
She squinted to where he indicated a square, white sign. One she’d never stopped to read.
“She said she touched my cars all over.”
Josie rolled her eyes at Brock. “And I said I was joking. What’s your hang-up with the cars?” She wouldn’t think of hurting one of them.
Max shot a pitying look toward Brock.
She sighed. Brock Walker was off his rocker and the whole town knew it.
But he was hot.
And she was warming to the man of few words. He’d outright caught her trespassing, but he wasn’t in a rage, didn’t demand they trade favors, and he wasn’t using every opportunity to feel her up.
Brock Walker was odd, but he was a gentleman.
As they waited for Max to pick his way back to his car and run her information, Brock shoved his hands in his jeans. She picked at debris stuck to her shirt and checked her reflection in the window.
Ack. Dust stuck to her cheeks and forehead. Her styled hair was now in a whirlwind around her face—what wasn’t plastered on her forehead.
She pushed her hair back, then changed her mind and used it shade her face, which wasn’t the best idea. Black hair acted like a solar panel soaking up all the sun’s heat and passing it on to her.
Time crawled by. Brock said nothing. Hardly moved.
She took the opportunity to study him.
Bad idea.
He was even more gorgeous than she’d thought. His eyes shimmered like the surface of a lake in high summer. She knew, the sort of city girl that she was, because she’d crept around the Walker Five property enough and felt not one moment of guilt. The times she came to visit her brother, there’d been nothing to do beyond their hour to visitation. The Walkers had the most breathtaking body of water she’d ever seen not even a mile from where she stood now. She might not be a rural girl, but Minnesota had a boatload of lakes.
She snorted at her bad pun.
Brock glanced toward her and she gazed back innocently.
Come on. She hadn’t taken anything. Drooling over a man’s cars shouldn’t be a crime. She cursed herself for getting caught this time. When her brother had first told her of Brock’s collection, she hadn’t been able to resist sneaking a peek.
Still, she was the most law-abiding one of her family now that her mom was gone.
The deputy was finally moseying his way back to them. For a man in his fifties, he seemed to maneuver the land well. It was probably in his blood, like the farm boy next to her.
“Miss Alvarez.” Max approached, hardly out of breath. Josie would give it to him, he busted her stereotype of small town law enforcement waddling through town and puffing up their chests. “You’re free to go.” He looked sternly between the two of them. “But…if you’re fitting to go tromping through some fields, do mind the posted signs.”
She smiled, hoping to look suitably innocent. “Will do. I can’t promise I won’t keep wanting to get an up-close view of our great state.
“But she was in my barn,” Brock argued. “She was trespassing.”
Deputy Max exhaled a suffering sigh. “Can you honestly tell me there’ll be any evidence?”
“She was in my barn.”
“Dude. I wasn’t.” Nothing she said would matter. He was like a dog with a bone, or in this case, a wrench.
His gaze landed on her. And why did her heart jump each time and hope for more?
“You were,” Brock said.
“Were not.”
“You were.”
“Not.”
“You were.”
She cocked her head at him. He wasn’t going to give up.
“All right.” Max broke in. “This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to do a walk-through of the barn. Miss Alvarez, would you be so kind as to accompany us?”
She smiled sweetly, understanding that Deputy Max did two things there. He couldn’t keep her here, so he’d asked nicely. And since he’d asked so nicely, she’d look guilty as fuck if she politely declined. As much as she wanted this over and done with, hanging around the mysterious Brock Walker wasn’t the most terrible way she’d spent an afternoon.
“Let’s go.”
Mustang Summer
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
About the Author
Conflict of Interest (The Walker Five Book 1) Page 22
