Page 26 of Mustang Summer

“Then we buy vegetables at the store.We can’t grow everything.”

She chuckled.He was so literal.

A brief tightening of his shoulders was the only sign she might’ve done something that bothered him, but it passed quickly.He didn’t ask any more questions.

“What’d I say?”She walked to stand next to him.“I feel like I did something wrong.”

“You didn’t.”

In front of him was a line-up of vehicle fluids.Anything a vehicle could need.Oil, antifreeze, window washer fluid—all organized neat and tidy, by fluid type.

“Well, if I did, I’m sorry.”So close to him, she was struck by the urge to touch him, to reach out and put her hand on top of his.Whatever would keep her in his warm shadow.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

“What do you mean?”

He pointed to his head.“I don’t always get people.”

“There’s nothing about me to get.”

He studied her, then looked away.Why was it when she had his full attention it was like someone turned on a sunlamp?And she wanted to bask in the glow for hours.

“Why do you say that?”Genuine curiosity was in his voice.

She sidled closer to him.“I’m pretty straightforward.”

“No, you’re not.”

“What?”

He pivoted his whole body until they were face to face.“You lied about being in the barn.”

“I thought it was your shop.”

“It is.”

She broke into a laugh and snaked her arms around his neck.Not usually the one to make the first move, she realized it was because it hadn’t been as important to her as now whether a guy kissed her or not.

His gaze fell to her lips, then rose back to her eyes.

She pulled his head toward her and he came willingly.Their lips touched.

He was warm and masculine.Increasing pressure, she pressed against him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Oh, man.This guy was something else.His hard body called to every feminine cell in her.Hell with the third date rule, which she’d always stretched to a month of dating; she’d jump into the closest backseat with Brock.

His hands splayed over her ass and she groaned.He encompassed her as she curled into him.Their tongues met and the kiss deepened.If he felt this divine in clothing, how would he feel with no shirt?

Was it too soon?Did she care?In his arms, she wasn’t worried about her dad’s failing business, or her brother’s legal troubles, or her own uncertain future.In Brock’s embrace, she found comfort, and his delectable body wasn’t the only reason.It was how he made her feel.

Like Josie.Not Jesse’s little sister.Not Bill’s little girl.

She fisted her hands in his shirt material and started pulling.

The sound of an engine broke into the quiet of the shop.She moaned in frustration and Brock pulled back, his attention focused on the door.

Unlike him, she needed time to recover from the power of their quick make-out session.But he still held her.Until he broke away to go to the door after what sounded like a massive engine parked outside.The way he walked, like he was slightly stiff and had a few too many, was exactly what she’d look like if she tried to move.Dazed and wanting to go back to what they’d been doing.Is that how he felt, what he wanted?