Page 83 of Mustang Summer

“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 hadnothingto do with this.”She sliced her hand in the air like she was canceling out what she said.“No, it haseverythingto 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’the talking to her?

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