Page 6 of Mustang Summer

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.Iwasn’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.”

Chapter2

“Icame in here and set the filters down on the workbench,” Brock mimicked the movements and tried to ignore the bemused expressions on Max’s and Josie’s faces.He swallowed hard.

Josie.

When he looked at her, it was like his retinas malfunctioned.It hurt so good.

Black hair as glossy as the new paint job on the third generation Mustang he’d just restored for a guy in the next county.Golden eyes as bright and rich as the coat of his favorite cat, Mustang Sally.He’d bought a ’Stang to fix up and the kitten had come along for the ride.Brock had tried to give him back to the owner, but much like the ethereal beauty he’d run down, the owner had feigned ignorance.

Josie kept messing with her hair and touching her face.She was lying.And she’d been in here for a reason.

“Then I turned to open the garage door,” he continued, “because the cross wind helps make it bearable in here.I do the grunt work out here and move them into the shop for the fine detailing.Or I bring the parts into the shop where it’s more comfortable to work on them.”

He was rambling, but it was easier for him to talk about what he knew.Every nerve in his hand was alive with the feel of her.Soft, supple, yet strong.

His mom had told him that people with a brain like his could obsess over a few subjects.Thankfully for his dad, cars were one.Farming another.

Josie Alvarez could easily be a third.

But she’d been in his barn and was lying about it.

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