Mustang Summer (The Walker Five Book 2)

by Marie Johnston

  Josie spun around, but stayed pressed close to Brock. “It’s over, Gage. Brock knows who stole his car. I’m going to tell the police everything. You and Bill are going to have to deal with your own mess. If you guys care so little about my welfare, I refuse to care about yours.” She turned back. “Can you get me out of here? I just need to grab a few things before we go get your car. I understand if you don’t want me staying with you, but I need to leave.”

  Brock’s brain reeled over the assault of information and the accusations being flung around.

  “Good luck finding it,” Gage scoffed. “Bill has the keys to my truck, so good luck taking it.”

  In Brock’s arms, Josie shook with rage. He glanced between her and the ex.

  Gage stalked toward them and Josie pressed into Brock like she was trying to get away from him.

  She was scared of this man. That thought ranked higher than any other in Brock’s mind. He settled Josie behind him and steadied his breathing. His cousins had run interference for him his entire life, but he was more than capable of taking care of himself. And thanks to his cousins and their childhood rowdiness, he knew how.

  Gage raised his fist to slam it into his face. Brock ducked and punched Gage in the stomach so hard the man’s breath whooshed out and he dropped to his knees. Brock nailed him in the face. Gage’s head flung backward and he tumbled to the floor, knocked out.

  “Holy shit,” Josie darted around Brock. “I’ve been dreaming of doing exactly that to the arrogant bastard.”

  She knelt down and rested her fingers against Gage’s neck. “Let me make sure he’ll live before I grab my things.” She paused with her head cocked like she could hear the blood pumping. “Yep, the idiot’s alive. Good enough. Be right back.” She sprinted out of the room.

  Silence descended but adrenaline still laced his veins. He adjusted his hat and paced the room. Gage groaned but he ignored him.

  Josie appeared with her duffel and computer bag. She rushed back to Gage and dug a phone out of his pocket. Brock waited as she scrolled through.

  “Camille. Of course.” She dropped the phone on Gage’s back and crossed to the cockeyed front door. “I don’t know where they hid they the trailer, but judging by his call log, I can guess who does. We have to hurry before Bill leaves with it.”

  Brock was right behind her. He’d come determined to get answers, and to make sure Josie was okay. She appeared unfazed, but he was as lost as ever. For now, all he could do was follow her lead.

  They got into his truck.

  She directed him to a newer section of Waite Park. In front of a small, tidy ranch house was a green truck with an attached covered trailer.

  Josie stabbed her fist in the air. “Yes! I knew it.”

  He hadn’t yet pulled to a stop before Josie slipped out, leaving the door open behind her. She ran to the hitch and unhooked it. Brock swung the pickup around and backed up alongside of the green pickup.

  Between both of them, they managed to push back the trailer enough to link it to Brock’s hitch. They hooked it up with few words between them.

  “What the fuck are you doing with Gage’s truck?” a shrill voice hollered.

  Brock’s head jerked up. A petite blonde stormed across the yard wearing athletic clothes that showed more than they covered.

  Josie straightened. Brock finished hooking up the electronics.

  “Camilla,” Josie’s words were steady, “the trailer belongs to the garage and the car inside doesn’t belong to Gage or Bill.” She jabbed her thumb toward him. “It’s his.”

  Brock finished his task and rose. His tipped his hat. “Ma’am.”

  The woman arched a brow and her gaze floated over him head to toe. She switched her focus to Josie. “And I’m supposed to believe you? Gage told me he bought a classic car to restore.”

  “Why don’t you go to my place and give Gage some TLC.” Josie tipped her head in Brock’s direction. “Brock gave him a helluva headache.”

  Camilla advanced, her features livid. “What’d you do? Is he okay?”

  “He’ll be fine. His head is hard. But I’m sure the cops will check him over after I call them and tell them all about the theft.”

  Josie caught his gaze and jerked her head toward his truck. She rushed to the passenger side of the pickup and he took the hint.

  They both hopped in with Camilla’s high-pitched shrieking echoing in the evening.

  Brock maneuvered his way out of town. He had no wish to stay and hated not hauling his own trailer.

  Could Josie’s dad accuse him of stealing the trailer?

  He dug out his phone.

  “What are you doing?” It the first Josie had spoken since they’d hit the road.

  “Calling Max.”

  When the deputy answered, Brock filled him in on the events of the night.

  “Holy shit, Walker,” Max breathed. “All right. I’ll…you say the trailer belongs to her father’s work place, which is also her place of work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then it’s a weak case and he’s in enough legal trouble as it is since your car’s inside of it. Just…shit…just have a safe trip back and call me when you get here.”

  Brock hung up and tucked his phone away. Out of the corner of his eye, Josie was staring at him, but he kept driving.

  “Are you going to talk to me?” she asked.

  “About what?” Emotions bubbled through him, zinging under his skin so fast he couldn’t identify them.

  He squeezed his hands around the wheel because they threatened to shake. His throat worked as he tried to swallow a perpetual lump.

  “Are you angry?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” His mouth was dry; he needed water.

  “Scared?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to talk.”

  “Okay,” she said in barely a whisper. “Thank you for rescuing me, though.”

  He stomped on the brake and jerked the wheel to the side of the highway. The trailer fishtailed slightly and he calmed himself enough to ease to a stop.

  He peeled his hands off the wheel to turn the hazards on. “Did you really need rescuing?”

  Because from what he witnessed…he didn’t know. She was in her house, with her ex-boyfriend, and they were arguing over answering the door.

  Had she been there all along? With Gage? Where had her father been? Why hadn’t she answered her phone?

  Josie folded her hands on her lap. “Gage saw me in Moore, with you, and told my dad. But only because it worked better for him. Then Bill would be forced to move quickly on the car and lose a lot of the profit. Or fail completely and have to sign over his business.”

  “You scoped out my Mustangs, manipulated Mr. Blackwell to sell to me, and then your dad and your ex took the Shelby.”

  Her eyes shined with unshed tears. “I know how it looks, Brock.”

  “It looked like you’d been hanging out with your ex-boyfriend for days and not answering your phone.”

  “They took it away from me. Bill paid for everything. He cut the internet and kept my phone and made Gage stay with me until he could sell your car.” Her voice cracked and a tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Why didn’t you just leave?” Brock wanted to believe her, but her actions pointed to deception, and Lord knows, he couldn’t untangle intrigue on a good day.

  “I knew what you’d think, what your whole family would think of me. If I rescued the car, maybe you’d believe me. Maybe your family wouldn’t hate me as much.”

  Brock clenched his jaw. It made sense when she said it, but…

  “You were only interested in my collection when we met. You could have set it up so that if your dad stole my car—during a time when you knew none of my family would be around—he wouldn’t have had to pay a dime on it.”

  She leaned over the console and her voice shook. “My interest in you had nothing to do with this.” She sliced her hand in the air like she was canceling out what she said. “
No, it has everything to do with it. I liked you. I wanted you to have the car. I wanted to be around you. I hated going home where I felt stifled and babied. With you, I feel like I have the freedom to be myself. You didn’t try to change me into anything, didn’t keep me from being anything other than Josie Alvarez.”

  Brock contemplated her words and evaluated her body language. Eyes wide, fingers digging into the edge of the console. One word of provocation and she might jump over the seat to grab him by the collar to make him listen.

  He ran through the signs of lying his therapist had taught him, then his mom had pounded in well. Josie met his gaze, didn’t fidget or glance away, and her words had been strong.

  He didn’t know what to say, but the sun would be setting in a couple of hours and he’d rather not be on the road hauling a trailer after dark. Putting the truck in gear, he eased back on the road.

  Josie slumped in her seat with her hand on her forehead.

  “Does your head hurt?” Always with the worrying about her. The defeated expression on her face and his upset stomach weren’t coincidences.

  “Yes. I’m hungry, too. I didn’t get groceries after I got home, then I was put under house arrest. Gage wouldn’t let me go out or order anything.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m so sick of him meddling in my family’s life. Did you know the garage should’ve been— Never mind.” Her gaze swung away from him to out the window.

  She must not want to tell him. And since she’d fallen quiet, he took the cue that she didn’t want to talk.

  ***

  Why wasn’t he talking to her?

  She spilled her heart and he threw the truck into and gear and eased back on the road.

  He either believed her or he didn’t. That was the way Brock worked.

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. For having sat around for three days, she was exhausted.

  Lush green dips and valleys cruised by, interspersed with golden fields of wheat and sunflowers. Broad, yellow heads followed the sun to the west. A soothing picture that quenched the worst of the turmoil in her head.

  She’d need a new job. A new place to live. Oh shit, would she need legal representation? Worst case scenario, Bill would go to jail and high-five Jesse in prison, and Josie would be on her own. The business would get sold. Hell, she’d give it away. Gage could have it and square all the debt with his uncle. The money owed was as much his fault as Bill’s.

  Her personal life had crumbled, too. The house was under Bill’s name; she was basically a roommate. At some point, she’d have to go back and gather the rest of her stuff and if she could, Jesse’s and what was left of her mother’s. What would Bill do if she left it? Give it all away or burn it?

  She didn’t even have a car to use to go back and collect anything.

  Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She wanted to scream at the unfairness, but it was all her own undoing. She’d let the people in her life back her into a corner. The only person who hadn’t wasn’t acting like he wanted her in his life.

  A sob caught in her throat and she couldn’t hold it back. She burst into tears and covered her face.

  Brock kept driving. She cried harder.

  A few minutes passed and she was dimly aware of the pickup slowing down, but she didn’t bother to look.

  She sobbed for herself, for her dad, and for her brother. And God, she missed her mom. Bless her soul. Gone less than a year and the rest of them had fallen apart.

  The vehicle stopped and a moment later, a warm hand stroked her back.

  Startled, she glanced up. Brock’s brows were pulled together and streetlights glowed in the fading light. He’d parked at a gas station.

  “Wait here.” He pulled his hand away and got out to jog into the store.

  She collapsed back into her arms, only her seatbelt held her up.

  She didn’t know how long Brock was gone, but he returned, filling the cab with his unique scent of soap, laundry detergent, and faint undertones of engine grease. A bag rustled and piqued her curiosity.

  He nudged her shoulder. A banana was shoved in her face.

  She stared at it blankly.

  “You said you were hungry,” he explained. “I thought this would make you feel better.” He rifled through the bag. “I also picked up some nuts and water. And chocolate. It always made my mom feel better.”

  A giggled escaped, followed by a hiccup. She hastily wiped her eyes and a smile tugged at her lips when a perplexed look crossed his handsome face.

  “Did you think I was crying because I was hungry?”

  He inclined his head and a muscle leapt in his jaw. “You said you hadn’t been eating well. I was wrong?”

  “No. Well, yes, but your heart was in the right place.” She sighed and sank back. “I’m crying because I’ve lost everything, including you.”

  “I’m right here.” He offered the banana again.

  She looked from him to the banana. Hope flickered, but she didn’t want to read too much into it. No, she wanted to read a ton into it, but Brock was very literal. Throughout the whole car ordeal, the most pressing fear, even more than her concern for Bill’s future, was that she and Brock were done. But he’d rammed the door down when he thought she was in danger. He’d followed her directions and hadn’t kicked her out, but was taking her home.

  He was right. He was here—with her.

  She accepted it with a small smile and tugged the peel down. She offered him half, but he selected a pack of seasoned almonds instead.

  They ate in the vehicle. It reminded her of the last time they’d shared a meal, before their relationship had started. They’d been through a lot in their short time together, and he was just as thoughtful as before.

  They ate in silence and in place of cleaning the dishes when they were done, he picked up all the wrappers and peels and empty bottles.

  “Feel better?” Brock wiped his hands off and set the bag of trash in the backseat.

  Her belly was full and her farm boy was next to her. “Yeah. I do.”

  “Do you?”

  She studied him. “You don’t believe me?” It wasn’t like Brock to question what she said.

  His gaze left hers to stare at the fence beside her window. “I wasn’t sure. I’m remembering what my mom taught me. I’ve really only been around my family most of my adult life and I’ve…gotten lazy.”

  “Brock, you’re anything but lazy. You don’t quit moving from sun up to sun down.”

  He tapped his temple. “My mind. I exercised it my whole life and then got lazy. I couldn’t read you and defaulted to just the facts, didn’t account for human nature. I’ve been hiding under my cars for too long.”

  “You’re not a robot.”

  He gave her a sad smile. “I told my family.”

  She gasped. “No way.” But when she stopped to think about it, she relaxed. “It didn’t matter, did it?”

  “No.” He inhaled, his expression introspective. “Yes. They’ll be more respectful toward my mom.” He lifted a shoulder. “They’ll still be overprotective bastards.”

  She touched a fingertip to the brim of his cap, wishing she could caress his face but it didn’t feel like the right time. “Why did you tell them?”

  His gaze left hers again. “Cash said something about my mom. None of them knew about all the therapy. Then he mentioned that the guys wouldn’t let you spend our money.” Hardness glinted in his eyes. “I won’t have my cousins talk about you like my aunts and uncles trashed my mom.”

  Pleasure curled its way into her with his words, but it was cut off by doubt. Did he want her around? Like long term?

  “Were you serious?” he asked suddenly. “You didn’t conspire to steal from me? Our relationship wasn’t fake?”

  “Absolutely real,” she whispered. She gave in and stroked his cheek. “Can I kiss you now?”

  A genuine smile stretched his lips and he leaned in. She brushed his hat to the side and pressed her lips against his.

  Parked in the
middle of a small-town gas station lot was no place to make out, no matter how badly she wanted to. And they had serious issues to deal with first.

  Reluctantly, she broke away from him. “Let’s go sort this mess out.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Josie crossed her legs to attempt a comfortable position, but it was a lost cause. Sitting on Brock’s lap would be the ideal spot, but since they were visiting Jesse, not a good idea. She and Brock sat side by side, but she’d scooted close enough to nestle into his side.

  A month had passed since the stolen Shelby debacle. Things were finally settling into a new normal, although Brock had been warning her about the upcoming harvest, when he would be out in the fields, manning the combines, and not around much.

  She updated Jesse and marveled over how his face had softened, his shoulders had relaxed, and he listened without interrupting—as much. His constant anger at the world had simmered with all the time he could do nothing but think. She’d expected him to rage about what Bill had done, how he’d chosen Gage over the boy he’d raised, but instead he shook his head.

  “So, that’s it. Gage gets the garage and pays off the old man’s debt, and Bill goes back to work for him?” He slanted his gaze at Brock, who sat next to her. “Thanks for dropping the charges against Bill.”

  “You’re welcome.” It was Brock’s automated response, but it was an honest one. She’d left it up to him about what to do. All he’d cared about was getting his car back, then he’d asked Max to break down how it’d affect Josie if he pressed charges.

  Josie hadn’t been sure what she wanted. Bill thought he’d been protecting her; his heart may have been in the right, stupid place, but his head careened into the pathological.

  The final decision was to drop the charges. Josie had officially quit her job and moved out. Brock had helped her haul her stuff and store her brother’s things and what little was left of her mom’s.

  “So where are my belongings now?” Jesse popped a brow.

  “In my long garage,” Brock answered. “You didn’t have much. We put in it a corner and tossed a tarp over it.”