Chapter 18 #2
“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 had nothing to do with this.” She sliced her hand in the air like she was canceling out what she said.
“No, it has everything to 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’t he talking to her?
She spilled her heart and he threw the truck into and gear and eased back on the road.
He either believed her or he didn’t. That was the way Brock worked.
She pinched the bridge of her nose. For having sat around for three days, she was exhausted.
Lush green dips and valleys cruised by, interspersed with golden fields of wheat and sunflowers. Broad, yellow heads followed the sun to the west. A soothing picture that quenched the worst of the turmoil in her head.
She’d need a new job. A new place to live.
Oh shit, would she need legal representation?
Worst case scenario, Bill would go to jail and high-five Jesse in prison, and Josie would be on her own.
The business would get sold. Hell, she’d give it away.
Gage could have it and square all the debt with his uncle.
The money owed was as much his fault as Bill’s.
Her personal life had crumbled, too. The house was under Bill’s name; she was basically a roommate. At some point, she’d have to go back and gather the rest of her stuff and if she could, Jesse’s and what was left of her mother’s. What would Bill do if she left it? Give it all away or burn it?
She didn’t even have a car to use to go back and collect anything.
Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She wanted to scream at the unfairness, but it was all her own undoing. She’d let the people in her life back her into a corner. The only person who hadn’t wasn’t acting like he wanted her in his life.
A sob caught in her throat and she couldn’t hold it back. She burst into tears and covered her face.
Brock kept driving. She cried harder.
A few minutes passed and she was dimly aware of the pickup slowing down, but she didn’t bother to look.
She sobbed for herself, for her dad, and for her brother. And God, she missed her mom. Bless her soul. Gone less than a year and the rest of them had fallen apart.
The vehicle stopped and a moment later, a warm hand stroked her back.
Startled, she glanced up. Brock’s brows were pulled together and streetlights glowed in the fading light. He’d parked at a gas station.
“Wait here.” He pulled his hand away and got out to jog into the store.
She collapsed back into her arms, only her seatbelt held her up.
She didn’t know how long Brock was gone, but he returned, filling the cab with his unique scent of soap, laundry detergent, and faint undertones of engine grease. A bag rustled and piqued her curiosity.
He nudged her shoulder. A banana was shoved in her face.
She stared at it blankly.
“You said you were hungry,” he explained. “I thought this would make you feel better.” He rifled through the bag. “I also picked up some nuts and water. And chocolate. It always made my mom feel better.”
A giggled escaped, followed by a hiccup. She hastily wiped her eyes and a smile tugged at her lips when a perplexed look crossed his handsome face.
“Did you think I was crying because I was hungry?”
He inclined his head and a muscle leapt in his jaw. “You said you hadn’t been eating well. I was wrong?”
“No. Well, yes, but your heart was in the right place.” She sighed and sank back. “I’m crying because I’ve lost everything, including you.”
“I’m right here.” He offered the banana again.
She looked from him to the banana. Hope flickered, but she didn’t want to read too much into it.
No, she wanted to read a ton into it, but Brock was very literal.
Throughout the whole car ordeal, the most pressing fear, even more than her concern for Bill’s future, was that she and Brock were done.
But he’d rammed the door down when he thought she was in danger.
He’d followed her directions and hadn’t kicked her out, but was taking her home.
He was right. He was here—with her.
She accepted it with a small smile and tugged the peel down. She offered him half, but he selected a pack of seasoned almonds instead.
They ate in the vehicle. It reminded her of the last time they’d shared a meal, before their relationship had started. They’d been through a lot in their short time together, and he was just as thoughtful as before.
They ate in silence and in place of cleaning the dishes when they were done, he picked up all the wrappers and peels and empty bottles.
“Feel better?” Brock wiped his hands off and set the bag of trash in the backseat.
Her belly was full and her farm boy was next to her. “Yeah. I do.”
“Do you?”
She studied him. “You don’t believe me?” It wasn’t like Brock to question what she said.
His gaze left hers to stare at the fence beside her window. “I wasn’t sure. I’m remembering what my mom taught me. I’ve really only been around my family most of my adult life and I’ve…gotten lazy.”
“Brock, you’re anything but lazy. You don’t quit moving from sun up to sun down.”
He tapped his temple. “My mind. I exercised it my whole life and then got lazy. I couldn’t read you and defaulted to just the facts, didn’t account for human nature. I’ve been hiding under my cars for too long.”
“You’re not a robot.”
He gave her a sad smile. “I told my family.”
She gasped. “No way.” But when she stopped to think about it, she relaxed. “It didn’t matter, did it?”
“No.” He inhaled, his expression introspective. “Yes. They’ll be more respectful toward my mom.” He lifted a shoulder. “They’ll still be overprotective bastards.”
She touched a fingertip to the brim of his cap, wishing she could caress his face but it didn’t feel like the right time. “Why did you tell them?”
His gaze left hers again. “Cash said something about my mom. None of them knew about all the therapy. Then he mentioned that the guys wouldn’t let you spend our money.” Hardness glinted in his eyes. “I won’t have my cousins talk about you like my aunts and uncles trashed my mom.”
Pleasure curled its way into her with his words, but it was cut off by doubt. Did he want her around? Like long term?
“Were you serious?” he asked suddenly. “You didn’t conspire to steal from me? Our relationship wasn’t fake?”
“Absolutely real,” she whispered. She gave in and stroked his cheek. “Can I kiss you now?”
A genuine smile stretched his lips and he leaned in. She brushed his hat to the side and pressed her lips against his.
Parked in the middle of a small-town gas station lot was no place to make out, no matter how badly she wanted to. And they had serious issues to deal with first.
Reluctantly, she broke away from him. “Let’s go sort this mess out.”