Finders Keepers (18 page)

“Hey, Black, why’d you pay to come to a drive-in if all you
were going to do was fuck your date?”

Josie froze as my eyes narrowed. “Watch your mouth, Mason,”
I ordered, peeking my head out from beneath the blankets just enough so he
could see my murderous expression without catching a glimpse of Josie. I didn’t
mind Colt finding out about Josie and me, but I wasn’t sure if she was ready
yet. Even if she was, that probably wasn’t the best time.

“What? It’s not like
fuck
isn’t your second language
and we all know that whoever that girl is beneath you is a far cry from a lady,
so don’t tell me to watch my mouth again, asshole.”

I was ready to jump out of the back of my truck to see if
Mason had such a loud mouth when I stood toe-to-toe with him, but Josie grabbed
my belt buckle and tugged me back down.

“Hey, sweetheart, you do realize you’re with Garth Black,
right? The guy who wouldn’t know commitment if it crawled up his ass and took
residence.”

Josie gave my belt buckle another tug, and I could almost
hear her thoughts—they were that strong.
Why would you want to go out there
with him when you can be in here with me?
Exactly. No reason I’d rather go
flick Colt’s hat off his head when Josie’s body was beneath mine and keeping it
warm. “At least that’s not what’s shoved up my ass most nights of the week.”

Colt raised his middle finger at me as he tapped my truck again.
“Way to go all out and get your truck washed for your date tonight. This thing
used to be black, right?”

If Colt thought he could teach me a thing or two about
trucks, he must have forgotten which state was listed on his birth certificate.
“I’ll get around to washing my truck, Mason. When it rains.” Josie was still
covered and quiet, but when Colt took a few steps closer, I shifted. In
addition to the blankets, I was blocking her from his view. “It’s a truck, god
dammit. You don’t have to wash it and wax it and tweak its headlights to get it
to perform.”

“Whatever you say, Black. Whatever you say.” Colt shook his
head and walked toward the concessions. “Enjoy your night.”

I watched him until he was out of sight before twisting
around and sliding the blankets back. “I really hate that guy.”

Josie wore an amused expression. “You don’t say.”

“Why in the hell did he have to be here tonight? My night
was about perfect until he showed up with that overly white smile and tanned
face.”

“I didn’t know he was coming, but he said a couple of his
brothers would be in town for the weekend. Given the limited choices for
entertainment, I suppose it’s not a huge surprise we’d all end up in the same
place.” Josie hadn’t let go of my belt buckle, but instead of tugging on it
forcefully, she was tugging on it playfully. “Do you want to talk about Colt
the rest of the night or would you like to get back to what we were doing?”

Damn, there was a special place in heaven for a girl who
could tell you what she wanted without a hint of shame. “Colt who?” My hands
found places on her as I shifted back on top.

Then she shoved my chest away and pivoted on top of me.
Josie’s eyes gleamed before she lowered her mouth to mine. “My turn.”

IF A MAN could die from making-out
exhaustion, I figured I was close. I didn’t know some of the things Josie had
taught me could be done with a mouth. I also didn’t realize that having a woman
basically hold me captive and have her way with me could be so freeing. With
the addition of a bit of boob fondling and a whole bit more of Josie rocking
her hips into mine, we’d had a successful, insanely-sexy-without-actual-sex
make-out session. Josie was showing me all sorts of things I could do that I
never would have thought possible.

The second movie had already been playing for a while when I
simply had to come up for air. Or hydration. Or sustenance. Something. “Are you
warm now?” I cupped her face with both hands. She certainly felt warmer.
Actually, she almost looked flushed.

Her lips moved to the corner of my mouth. “I’m definitely
something now.” Her lips moved to the other corner. “But I wouldn’t say warmer
is the first thing on my mind.” To prove her point, her hips slid down mine
again.

I wasn’t sure who, but one of us was close to giving in. An
intermission was in order. Plus, the clothed grinding was nice and all, but my
dick had to be close to being rubbed raw. I needed a few minutes to calm my
shit down, rehydrate, and tend to my wounds. “Come on. Break time.” I checked
to make sure Colt wasn’t in sight then grabbed Josie’s hands and pulled her up.

“I thought we had one of those when you took a breath ten
minutes ago.” She grinned at me as she finger-combed her hair and straightened
her dress.

After zipping my coat back up on her, I redid all of the
buttons she’d managed to get undone on my shirt and tucked it back into my
jeans before leaping over the side. “You’re right. I’m weak. You are the making
out champion.” Josie grabbed my hands to steady herself before jumping out of
the bed. “But whatever you just did to me in there, I flew past warm straight
into hot. I need one of those slushie things to cool down, and I need the sugar
before I go into hypoglycemic shock.” Making out with Josie burned a hell of a
lot of calories.

“You’d better get two so you’ll have reserves.” Josie
grabbed my hand as we headed for the concessions. Everyone else had gotten
their drinks and snacks during the real intermission, so it was mostly quiet
inside. That was part of my plan. I still didn’t know how Josie felt—well,
after that make-out session, I knew how she
felt
—but I wasn’t sure if
she was ready for us to be a public item yet. As much as I wanted the whole
damn town to know we were together, I also knew we would give the rumor mill
enough fodder to keep its channels busy into next year. The hometown sweetheart
hooks up with the trailer-trash bad boy. I didn’t want Josie at the center of a
bunch of malicious gossip, and the only way to protect her from that was to
keep us a secret.

I opened the glass door to the concessions and let her pass
through before following. “So? Since you seem to be the making out pro, how
would you rate my skills? On a scale of okay to mad.” I wrapped both arms
around her as we wound through the concession gates.

She tapped her chin and glanced back at me. “Let’s see. Your
lips are swollen. My lips are swollen. My hair’s a mess”—she lifted my hat for
a moment—“and your hair’s a huge mess.”

“It’s always a mess. Why do you think I rarely take that
thing off?” I mumbled as we continued weaving up to the cashier.

Josie laughed then unexpectedly arched her back so her
backside curved into my . . . “We stopped making out five minutes ago, and
you’re still . . .
excited
. And either I wet myself, or you made me just
as excited.”

My mouth dropped open. Josie slid her fingers beneath my
chin, pushed it closed, then planted a kiss full on my lips. The pubescent male
cashier looked like he was about to bust something. That made two of us.

“Damn, Josie. Saying stuff like that is not helping cool me
down.”

Since we’d finally made it up to the gaping cashier, Josie
lifted onto her tiptoes and moved her mouth to my ear. “I don’t want you cooled
down. I want you back in that truck and on top of me.”

A shudder ran down my back. Leaning into the counter, I locked
eyes with the cashier—whose eyes were locked on Josie. “Do you sell slushies by
the gallon?”

The cashier fumbled with a few cups. “This is the biggest
size we’ve got.”

“Perfect. I’ll take two.” One to drink and one to ice my
balls with. Josie giggled and went to grab a couple of licorice ropes. “What
are you so happy about?”

She was beaming. Her face was practically glowing, and I
wasn’t sure if she was walking or floating. “You. Tonight.” She motioned
between us. “This. Everything. There’s a lot to be happy about right now.”

Josie. My Josie. For the first time, I felt like she
actually wanted to be mine and, contrary to popular belief, I hadn’t done
anything to royally screw it up. I grinned back. “There’s a hell of a lot to be
happy about right now.”

The cashier cleared his throat. “That will be twelve-fifty.”

“Did you get the licorice ropes?” I asked the cashier. He
nodded. “I didn’t think you liked licorice, Joze.”

“I don’t,” she replied, winding one around my wrist.
“They’re not for eating.”

Holy shit. As if my dick needed to get any harder. The
cashier was back to gaping at Josie like he was close to throwing himself at
her feet and worshipping her. Get in line, jackass. The sooner I got the
Josie-worshipper paid, the sooner I could figure out what Josie had in mind for
us and those licorice ropes. Pulling out my wallet, I opened it and found. . .
nothing. “Shit.” I double-checked all of my pockets to make sure I hadn’t
misplaced the cash I’d gotten earlier.

“Double shit,” Josie said. “I left my purse in your truck.”

“I wouldn’t let you pay anyways. Besides, I had money
earlier . . . I just must have misplaced it.” I triple-checked my wallet. The
cashier shifted and gave me an impatient look when the concessions door opened
and someone else filed into line. Too bad. They’d have to wait because I needed
my slushies
and
licorice ropes.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m good,” Josie said, setting her hand on
my forearm.

“No, it’s not okay.” I almost threw my wallet on the ground
when it came up empty a third time. Where the hell had the cash gone?

“I got it.” A fifty-dollar bill slapped down on the counter
as Josie froze and my jaw set.

“I don’t think so.” Picking up the fifty, I held it in front
of Colt’s face and dropped it at his boots.

“Hey, no need to be ungrateful and throw money around. This
is a fifty-dollar bill.” Colt picked it up and spread it out in front of my
face. “I know the last time you saw one of these was when your mama was still
home and turning tricks to put beans and bread on the table.”

I shoved his hand and the money out of my face.

“Colt!” Josie hissed, shouldering up beside me. I was
keeping it in, holding myself back, but just barely.

“Josie, what the hell are you doing here with this piece of
trailer trash?” Colt crossed his arms and looked from me to her. “Oh, wait. I
forgot his trailer went up in flames. Let me rephrase. Josie, what the hell are
you doing here with this piece of trash?”

“Colt, so help me God . . .” Josie turned on her glare and
aimed it his way.

“Just answer the question, and I’ll leave you two alone.”
Colt took a couple of steps back as Josie glared at him.

“Answer the question? How’s this for answering the
question?” Stepping shoulder to shoulder with me, her hand slid inside of mine.

Colt studied our entwined hands, his face shadowing. “I
thought we had a good thing going.”

“It wasn’t a bad thing”—her voice was cool and removed—“but
we weren’t
going
anywhere.”

Colt shook his head and made his way back toward the door.
“And you think that wherever Garth Black’s going to take you will be so much
better and farther?”

“No, I don’t think that. I
know
that.” Josie flashed
him a big smile.

He paused with his hand on the door. “It’s too bad you’re
going to end up another knocked-up piece of trailer trash. I thought you’d be
different than the rest of these small-town girls.”

Josie didn’t flinch, but I sure as hell did. Leaping over
every rail Josie and I’d just wove through, I didn’t stop until I was a foot
from Colt’s face. The guy had the sense to look fearful for his life. “You’d better
shut that big mouth of yours, turn around, and leave now, because I am holding
on by a thread, Mason.” I was trembling, but I didn’t touch him. “A fucking
thread.”

Colt shoved the door open then glanced back at Josie. “When
you’re done with this guy, you know my number.”

Josie made her way to me as the door slammed in my face. I
glared at Colt’s back until he jumped into the bed of his fancy truck where a
few other guys were camped out.

“Garth?” Josie stepped in front of me with a concerned
expression. “How are you doing?”

I exhaled a heavy breath and forced my fists to unclench.
“I’ve been holding back so much tonight, I’m about to snap. That’s how I’m
doing.”

“Yeah, you look pretty close to snapping, too. Let’s get you
out of here.” She pushed open the door, waved a quick
sorry
at the
cashier, and we walked toward my truck. Josie slipped her hand in mine, and a
portion of the rage boiling just below the surface vanished. “Better?”

“Better,” I replied, watching Colt’s truck as we passed it.
He was with his brothers. From the way his hands were moving and his pissed off
expression, he was informing them of what had just happened. When a couple of
his brothers leapt up, looking outraged, I pulled Josie a little faster. I knew
what hot-headed guys like the Mason brothers would do because I was
hot-headeder than them all. They were going to come kick my ass for “stealing”
their brother’s girl.

That was fine. Whatever, they could kick my ass into the
next millennium. Big whoop. What I cared about was not Josie getting mixed up
in the middle of it. They wanted to teach me a lesson? Fine—they could do that
when Josie wasn’t anywhere around. I’d take a hell of a lot more than a serious
beating to get to be the one Josie crawled into bed with at night.

I opened the passenger’s side door for her and closed it
behind her. “Are you okay if we head out now?”

“Since a certain someone kind of put a damper on it, yeah,
let’s go.”

I crawled in beside her. From the rearview mirror, I saw
Colt and his brothers motioning at my truck. If Josie wasn’t with me, I would
have thrown open my door, marched toward them with my arms out, and shouted
some sort of challenge and profanity at them. But Josie was with me, and that
made all the difference. I fired up the engine and shifted into drive.

Josie’s hand rested above my knee as she scooted across the
bench toward me. “Thanks for the . . . movie.”

I waited for her to fasten her lap belt before moving. “That
was the best damn movie I’ve ever seen.” Checking my rearview to make sure the
Mason brothers weren’t tailing us, I headed for the exit.

Josie leaned her head on my shoulder. “You know what Colt
said back there was a bunch of bull, right? You’re not a piece of trash, and if
he says that to you again, it will be me shouting about hanging on by a
thread.”

I gripped the steering wheel harder, trying to vent some of
my pent-up anger on it. “I know what I am, and I’m okay with that. I know to
the Colt Masons of the world, I am a piece of trash. I give a shit what he
thinks about me. All I care about is that the Josie Gibsons don’t think I am.”
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her closer. “At least not
anymore.”

“I never thought you were trash. Never.” She shook her head
against me. “I might have thought I hated you for a while, but I never thought
that.”

If that was true, she was one of the only people who didn’t
associate the Blacks with trash. Poor, redneck trash that found all of life’s
answers at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. I kissed the top of her head
because that was the only response I was capable of.

“Do you remember that party we had at my place the summer
after sixth grade? The one where we played Spin the Bottle?”

My forehead lined. Going from me being or not being a piece
of trash to reminiscing about the summer we were twelve was a sudden topic
change. “Yeah. That was the night you dumped orange soda down my new white
shirt.”

“Spilt. I
spilt
it,” she clarified. “And I apologized
a thousand times. Are you wanting another one?”

“It was a nice shirt,” I said, faking insult.

“Fine. I’m sorry. For the one thousandth and first time.”

“And for the one thousandth and first time, you’re
forgiven.”

Josie laughed and played with one of the buttons on my
shirt. “It really was a nice shirt.”