Chapter 4 #2
“Ornery,” Aaron replied. “When we all took over the operation and our parents moved out, I didn’t expect me to be the one with the empty nest filling back up—with my damn parents.”
Travis paused in his work. “Think they’ll move back?”
Aaron shrugged. “Who knows. Mom’s not used to Dad being around all the time and Dad’s not used to time on his hands.” He went quiet for a moment. “I told them to move back home.”
“You’re never going to find someone to settle with when you still live with your parents.” Travis’s tone was dry.
“No shit. But I’d rather have my parents not trying to kill each other.”
Brock nodded, more to himself. They were all close to their parents. Their whole extended family was close. A divorce would send shock ripples through all of them.
“What do you think, Brock?” Travis asked. “Would you let Uncle Greg and Aunt Nancy move back?”
“They wouldn’t want to.” While it’d been hard for his mom to leave her broken baby alone in the world, Brock had still been well into his twenties, and she’d been wanting out of Moore since she was a teenager.
Travis chuckled. “My parents are loving life in Phoenix. They’re giving it this summer to decide if they’ll be more than winter birds.”
“They’re too young to be going south for the winter.” Aaron pulled into the courthouse parking lot. “But I guess, after Uncle Steve died all of our parents seem to be finding themselves.”
Brock nodded. The early death of Dillon’s dad had spurred the brothers to sell the farm and ranch business and allowed Brock to have a job he didn’t dread every day.
They all climbed out and stretched under the bright summer sun.
Dillon waited in front of the large, square, stone building.
He had an arm slung around Elle and was dressed just like them.
Plain white button-up shirt, clean jeans with no holes, and the nice boots that were worn for weddings, funerals, and anything else church-related.
Cash loitered on the other side of the entrance, staring off into the distance.
“We ready?” Dillon called as they approached.
“Now or never.” Aaron swaggered up the expansive stone steps. “How many more of these do we gotta go to?”
“If they find him guilty, which he is,” Dillon growled, “then we’ll probably have another court date for sentencing.”
“Long as this shit’s done before harvest.” Aaron held open the shiny glass door for them.
“And he stays behind bars,” Dillon agreed.
The temperature change into the air-conditioned building was a frigid drop. A few people in business wear strolled through the wide hallways, their heels clicking on the hard floor.
Dillon gestured to a set of stairs. “We’re on the second level. I have to meet with my lawyer. Head on up. You’ll see where we’re supposed to go.”
Brock jogged up the stairs with the others and found a place to sit. His family surrounded him as they took up most of one side of the courtroom.
It was smaller than he’d expected. Only three rows of benches behind the desks the lawyers would sit at. The jury area was stuffed into a corner where jurists wouldn’t have to directly face either the plaintiff or defendant. A raised wooden platform must be where the judge sits.
People were coming in and out of a small door across from the jury seats, readying the room for trial.
Brock glanced at the clock on the wall. Almost time.
“Whoa,” Aaron said under his breath.
“Wonder who she is,” Travis murmured.
“Dude,” Cash breathed. “I can find out.”
Brock glanced to where his cousins were looking and his eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”
His cousins all stared at him while the petite car lover dressed like a businessman’s wet dream smiled demurely as she sat across the aisle from him.
“I’m here to support my brother.” Josie crossed one leg over the other and her form-fitting maroon slacks hugged her hips, even sitting down. The V-neck, sleeveless top she wore was actually part of the outfit. Like a pantsuit. A sexy as hell pantsuit.
Her brother? “Jesse Rodriguez? You don’t have the same last name as him.”
Was she married? His world grew dimmer with the thought.
She shot him a look he struggled with. Impatience? Embarrassment? Tolerance? “Our mother remarried after he was born. My dad didn’t adopt him.”
Her statement made sense and he got hung up on the shock of finding her here. “Is that why you were snooping in my barn? Did your brother put you up to it?”
Her lips set and she feathered her spiky hair away from her eyes. “One, we established I wasn’t in your barn. You can ask Deputy Max, remember? And two, no one has to put me up to anything.”
He stared at her. She was fidgeting—with her hair, with her hands, readjusting her sitting position. She kept lying.
Cash nudged him, but Brock’s gaze stayed glued to the sexy brunette.
“Did you get the ’68 Shelby?”
She glanced to the front, then put her finger across her lips.
He scowled and Cash elbowed him again.
Brock ripped his gaze away to glare at Cash. “What?”
Cash rolled his eyes to the front where the lawyers were setting up.
Brock clamped his mouth shut, but his brain kept going. Had she gotten the car? Paying attention to the proceedings was impossible. A million questions zinged through his head about Josie every minute of each hour the trial lasted.
They were excused while the jury deliberated. Brock left his cousins to find her disappearing into the restroom.
When he turned back, Aaron, Travis, and Cash stood several feet away, watching him.
He almost walked past them to wait for Josie to exit the bathroom, but they sidestepped to block his path.
“Talk,” Aaron demanded.
“About what?”
Cash snorted. “Only you would be all ‘whaddya mean’ when the insanely hot sister of the man who burned down our property talks to you. You two know each other?”
Brock shoved his hands in his pockets. “A couple of weeks ago, I came home and someone ran out of the barn. I chased her down, but she told Max she was just out for a walk. I couldn’t prove it and nothing was missing or damaged.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Travis’s voice shook like he was trying not to yell. “She’s Jesse’s sister .”
“I didn’t know. Her last name is Alvarez. Then I went to go interview for a Mustang yesterday and she was there, too.”
They all eyed the rest room door suspiciously.
Cash spoke first. “The sister of the guy who torched Dillon’s shop suddenly takes an interest in Brock.”
“Not me.” Brock pushed past them when she breezed out of the ladies room. “It’s the cars.”
He tracked Josie across the expanse of the hallway.
Her heeled shoes gave her hips the most enticing sway.
She glanced over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes on him, then her gaze flitted from cousin to cousin.
Planting herself on a corner bench, she hugged her purse, or bag, or whatever it was called, to herself.
“Did Mr. Blackwood sell you the ’68?” Brock came to a stop in front of her.
She clutched her tote bag. “He hasn’t decided yet.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Are you going to report back to him that I’m going to be a naughty girl and not take care of his precious car?”
“No.”
She paused like she was waiting for him to say more, then looked over his shoulder. “Can I help you boys?”
Shit. His cousins were interfering. Brock didn’t turn around when Cash spoke. “We want to know what you were doing in Brock’s shop.”
Josie remained sitting, but crossed her arms defensively against the four of them. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’ve already been cleared.”
“Brock doesn’t lie,” Cash pressed.
Her cool brown gaze landed back on Brock. “Not even a tiny fib?”
“He was born without that gene.” Aaron said it sarcastically but Brock stiffened at the reminder that Aaron wasn’t wrong. “If he said you were in his barn, then you were.”
Josie loosened her grip from her bag and rose. Brock didn’t back up and it brought her close to him. He had to look down at least eight inches, even with her in heels.
“I don’t appreciate feeling like I’m being attacked at my brother’s trial. Have a little sympathy.”
Once she made the request, it clicked for Brock, as it often did when he was prodded, or remembered his mom’s advice. Her eyes were filled with worry and not because she was faced with four men who stood a head taller than her. It’d be like if any of his cousins were on trial.
And she was the only one here for Jesse. Brock didn’t like the man, despised what he’d done to their place, and how he added stress and remorse for Gram. But none of it was Josie’s fault. She might’ve been in his stuff, but she’d just said she was more interested in the cars.
“Where’s your family?” he asked.
Her eyes shimmered. “Our mom passed last year and Bill—my dad—couldn’t take off work to come here.”
“What does he do?” The rest of the world faded and it was him and Josie. His cousins didn’t move away, but didn’t break in.
“He’s a mechanic.”
“That’s why you like cars. Did you help him at all?”
She hastily wiped her eyes. “When I was younger. Now he has employees and thinks my place is somewhere else besides under a hood.”
“ Why? ”
She peered up at him, but didn’t answer. “You really surprise me sometimes.”
“Why?”
A chuckle escaped and he was grateful her tears were gone. “Because you interrogate me about a single subject then throw me for a loop by treating me like a real person.”
“You are.” He sensed he was getting into territory where he’d soon not understand what she was talking about. “I’d quit asking the questions if you answered. Truthfully.”
“And if I said I was lying and I was in your barn, would I end up in Jesse’s place?”
“Would you have destroyed my collection?”
Her mouth dropped open and her brows cinched—clearly horror. “Absolutely not. It’d be like burning history. Okay, say I was admiring your cars. Would you have a problem with that?”
“No. I’d say call first next time.”
“I don’t have your number.”
“Tell me yours and I’ll text you so you have it.”