Chapter 1 #2
Did he have a problem with her hair? She’d chopped it to let go of the emotional baggage it had represented and his open perusal plucked at her insecurity. After the impromptu track meet, the spikey style was stuck to her forehead and neck.
“Did you touch my ’Stangs?” he growled.
She gulped. Not from fear, unfortunately. His voice rumbled like the smooth engine of a Shelby GT, all low vibration and masculinity.
Somehow his baseball cap had stayed on, but she briefly fantasized about running her hands through his shaggy black hair to see if it was as smooth as new paint on a fresh sand job. One of her favorite textures. Thanks to her dad’s legally dubious hobby, she got to have the experience often.
“My ’Stangs.” His expression was urgent, and while she understood his obsession, it’s not like she could’ve snuck out with one tucked into a pocket.
“I touched them all over,” she shot back.
His brow furrowed. “Why?”
Seriously? “I was being sarcastic, jackass. Now let me go.”
A flash of frustration was quickly covered with anger. “Why were you in there?”
“In where?”
Another scowl. “My barn.”
Sweat dripped into her hair. “I wasn’t in your barn. I was out enjoying the nice day and out of nowhere, you tackled me.”
“You were in my shop.”
“I thought you said it was a barn.”
“It is.”
Okay… Was he playing some obtuse game with her? “Let me go.”
“No.”
He wrapped a massive hand around her wrists as he reached into his back pocket.
She tugged against him, but she of all people knew how strong gearheads could be.
Only this guy’s muscles weren’t just for show.
But she wasn’t scared. Thanks to her brother, she knew of the Walkers—and their reputation was disgustingly good.
She hadn’t heard much about Brock Walker. From his set-up in the barn he had yet to prove she was in, he was as serious about cars as she was. They weren’t an image thing, or a key to bragging rights; they were pieces of history that needed to be appreciated and preserved.
“Yeah, Max?” he spoke into the phone. “I need you to come out here. I caught someone in my shop.”
He paused and she strained to hear the other end of the conversation but failed.
“Dunno… Yeah… Yeah… Trees just north of my house… ’Kay.”
Man of many words.
He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and craned his neck to stare down the road.
Like the police she was sure he’d called would suddenly appear.
Her stomach fluttered. The cops were getting involved and Brock held all the cards in the small town.
She was an outsider. But—he had to prove she was in his barn.
Her story might be a little outrageous, but the countryside was beautiful enough to inspire an impromptu walk.
“Who’s Max?” she asked, more to break the silence and take her mind off the fact that she wasn’t bothered by a strange man parked on top of her.
He didn’t turn to look at her. “He’s a deputy.”
Perfect. “You need to get off me.”
“No. You might run again.”
“If I run, I’ll look guilty of something and I’m not. Unless you plan on accosting me.”
“I’m not.”
He still wasn’t looking at her. She studied his hard profile. Calmness. The girl he ran down admitted she was afraid he might attack her, and while her tone hadn’t been quivering in fear, he didn’t twitch?
Why the nonreaction?
She’d half expected him to strong arm the answers he wanted out of her, or attempt to seduce the truth from her.
He had the looks and body to be successful.
The muscles of his biceps and shoulders were outlined for ultimate temptation by the black T-shirt he wore.
His grease-stained jeans were like Josie kryptonite.
And he’d find out soon enough why she was in Moore.
Her brother’s court date was approaching and she planned to be there for support.
As long as they didn’t find out who she was until the cops were done with her, she had a chance of walking away without a legal trail following her.
From the way Brock tensed and lifted his chin to see farther down the road, she gathered Max was on the way. She couldn’t hear anything while pressed into the weeds, but the lovely smell of prairie flowers took the bite out of the itchy foliage.
Faint gravel crunching must be the deputy parking. She didn’t bother lifting her head; she wouldn’t be able to see above the weeds anyway. They weren’t even fifty yards off the road and within minutes, another male’s voice reached her.
“Brock, what the hell?”
Brock opened his mouth, but she shouted over him. “Officer, help! This guy won’t let me go.”
That earned her a startled look from the man holding her down.
He might know the whole town, have a solid reputation, but she was still little ol’ her being restrained by a big guy and he was surprised she’d accuse him of wrongdoing. Brock Walker was a bit of a conundrum.
“Brock get off her.” The deputy approached, his gaze wary. He wasn’t twitching to put his hand on his gun, but from his expression she and Brock added a haven’t seen this before event to his career.
Brock scowled at Deputy Max but rose. As soon as the gearhead’s hot gaze left her, she wanted it back.
Ugh, the nerve she had. As if her bad taste in men hadn’t proved itself in the last few months, she was lusting after a Walker. The family had thrown her brother in jail and wouldn’t hesitate to do the same with her. She couldn’t fantasize about one of them.
But, dude, his cars were sick .
What’d a girl have to do to get into the shop he kept locked up solid? She’d wager he stored his completely refurbished Mustangs in the less dusty metal building. Her gaze swept his body, afraid she’d be willing to search him from head to toe looking for the key.
Deputy Max waited for her to stand before he spoke. “What’s going on?”
“I came home to find her running out of my barn.”
“That where you work on your cars?” When Brock nodded, Max eyed her. “What were you doing in his barn?”
“I wasn’t in there.” Josie worked to keep her voice steady, nerves suddenly vibrating with anxiety now that she was facing law enforcement.
What if he didn’t believe her? Because she’d totally been in Brock’s barn.
“I was driving through and wanted to stretch my legs. This is such picturesque country and I drove until I found a spot I could park and take a nature walk.”
“She was in my barn.” Brock said it like there was no reason to lie.
And, well, he was telling the truth…
“I wasn’t. I cut through his lawn, thinking no one was home.” She gestured to the cornfield behind his property. “Easier than cutting through that stuff.”
“No, it’s not.” Brock pointed to the trees they’d crashed through. “You wouldn’t have had to go through any trees, and there’s a nice gap between each row of corn. It’s not six feet high yet; you could see where you were going.”
How annoyingly factual. She smiled sweetly and crossed her arms over her chest. A movement that usually drew a man’s attention to her boobs.
He stayed focused on the cornfields.
“It might be common sense to you, but I’m from the city.” These small-town guys bought the city girl line every time. At least she hoped they did. It was her first time using it. Minneapolis wasn’t far away from her hometown. St. Cloud a little closer.
Deputy Max raised his brown hat off his head and wiped sweat off his brow before resettling it. “Ma’am, I need to see some ID.”
“It’s in my car.” She knew better than to just walk off from the police. Too bad much of her family didn’t have the same common sense when it came to lawfulness.
“G’on.” He motioned for her to lead the way. “I’ll go with you.”
They stepped through the evergreens and it was much easier when not at a dead run.
She reached into her embarrassingly plain car for her wallet. She located her license and handed it to Max with complete confidence. She didn’t share her brother’s last name.
He inspected her. “Waite Park. That’s outside of St. Cloud, right?”
She nodded. “As far as worst places to live in Minnesota, it only ranks at number ten.”
Max chuckled. “You wait right here while I go run this.”
Her tension drained away. He wasn’t acting like she might be a hardcore criminal. Why was she the only one getting questioned? Brock was pinning her to the ground when he’d arrived.
“Aren’t you going to run his, too?” She kept her voice more innocent than obnoxious; she still had to walk out of here without them learning who she was.
Besides, Max taking Brock’s word on what happened—even if it was factual—smacked too much like how her dad had hung on her ex’s every word. “He attacked me.”
“I’m sorry, Ms.…” he glanced back at her license, “Alvarez. You are on private property. It’s posted.”
She squinted to where he indicated a square, white sign. One she’d never stopped to read.
“She said she touched my cars all over.”
Josie rolled her eyes at Brock. “And I said I was joking. What’s your hang-up with the cars?” She wouldn’t think of hurting one of them.
Max shot a pitying look toward Brock.
She sighed. Brock Walker was off his rocker and the whole town knew it.
But he was hot.
And she was warming to the man of few words. He’d outright caught her trespassing, but he wasn’t in a rage, didn’t demand they trade favors , and he wasn’t using every opportunity to feel her up.
Brock Walker was odd, but he was a gentleman.
As they waited for Max to pick his way back to his car and run her information, Brock shoved his hands in his jeans. She picked at debris stuck to her shirt and checked her reflection in the window.
Ack. Dust stuck to her cheeks and forehead. Her styled hair was now in a whirlwind around her face—what wasn’t plastered on her forehead.
She pushed her hair back, then changed her mind and used it shade her face, which wasn’t the best idea. Black hair acted like a solar panel soaking up all the sun’s heat and passing it on to her.
Time crawled by. Brock said nothing. Hardly moved.
She took the opportunity to study him.
Bad idea.
He was even more gorgeous than she’d thought.
His eyes shimmered like the surface of a lake in high summer.
She knew, the sort of city girl that she was, because she’d crept around the Walker Five property enough and felt not one moment of guilt.
The times she came to visit her brother, there’d been nothing to do beyond their hour to visitation.
The Walkers had the most breathtaking body of water she’d ever seen not even a mile from where she stood now.
She might not be a rural girl, but Minnesota had a boatload of lakes.
She snorted at her bad pun.
Brock glanced toward her and she gazed back innocently.
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. I wasn’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.”