Page 14 of Mustang Summer

“Um, they’re nice cars.”Her tone was odd, but he couldn’t identify it.

“That’s why you were in my barn.”

“I thought it was your shop.”

“It is.”

She stared at him and like always, he couldn’t figure out what he’d said wrong.

“How can it be your barn and your shop at the same time?”Who’d want to work in a barn?

“It was a barn first, and part of it still is, but it functions mostly as a shop.”

“What about the large shop you have all locked up?”

That wasn’t a shop, it was his long garage.Something in her words stalled him.“How’d you know it was locked?”

Her eyes briefly widened, then she turned a stunning smile back on him.“Because you would’ve been worried about it the day you tackled me in the field.How is Deputy Max, by the way?”

“Dunno.Were you really in my barn to look at my Mustangs?”

She leaned out.“I’m just a little girl, why would I have a thing for Mustangs?”

“Being a girl doesn’t matter for whether you like cars or not.”

“Tell that to my dad and my ex,” she muttered as she turned back to look out the windshield.She pushed in the clutch and wiggled the gearshift, but didn’t put it into gear.“I hate to cut our chit chat short, but I gotta go sweet talk this guy.”

A dull ache settled in Brock’s chest.His dad rarely came back to Moore, but Brock had hoped he’d come back and help him work on the ’68.

“Later, Brock Walker.”Her purr was smoother than the engine as she threw it in gear and took off.

He was left with a mouthful of dust and the strangest sense of loss.Over the car or the girl?

Chapter4

“Yer late.”

Josie crawled out of her ride and wiped her sweaty palms down her shorts.Brock with his standard black Ford ball cap and tight fitting T-shirt was enough to make a girl quiver for hours—and he’d done nothing more than sit in his truck.

Her second encounter with him and again she’d felt more at ease around him than around anyone at home.Like she didn’t have to put on a show or defend herself.He took her as she was.How liberating.He didn’t even seem upset about her in his barn, other than that she’d lied about it.He was almost more interested in her love for the cars.

Too bad her journey would bring her smack dab into his family drama and announce how off limits she was.

She flashed Mr.Blackwood her most winning smile.Charming stubborn men was second nature, a way of life.“I stopped to talk to an old friend at the corner.He must’ve just been here.Brock Walker?”

Mr.Blackwood grunted.“That boy had dollar signs in his eyes.”

Brock?Her farm boy had the clear blue sky in his guileless eyes.She had to resist telling Mr.Blackwood that Brock was the least greedy man she’d ever met.He drove a nice truck, an expensive one, but after seeing the Walker Five operation, even the city girl in her knew he needed it for work.His barn was tidy and kept up, but not fancy.His real shop was probably high-end, but like his other possessions, she was sure it was useful and well cared for.

Then there was his house.Well-maintained, but older than her and on the small side.She doubted it was worth much more than the car Mr.Blackwood was so picky about selling.

“I don’t know him that well,” she admitted more because she needed every advantage and couldn’t have Brock dragging her down in Mr.Blackwood’s opinion.What had Brock done to wedge himself under Mr.Blackwood’s skin?

The old man harrumphed and led her to the porch.She made sure to sit without being overtly sexy, not an easy thing with her curves.

“What do you know about the ’68 Shelby GT500?”

She raked a hand through her hair.“Well, it’s fifty years older than mine.As far as the engines go, they both demand r-e-s-p-e-c-t.Damn fine horses under the hood.”

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