Gypsy Hearts by Lisa Mondello Page B

really embarrassing."
    Josie laughed and let the blanket slip off her shoulders. She dropped it on a dry area of sand a few yards
from where they were working and plopped her sneakers on top.
    "Even though the gulf water is warm, your feet are
going to get cold," he warned.
    "You've got to live dangerously once in a while," she
teased, watching him dig what looked like a trench
about twenty feet in diameter a few yards from the
water's edge.
    She propped her hands on her hips. "Do you have a
blueprint for this sandcastle? That looks awfully big."
    "Does it? I'm just winging it."
    She laughed. "You didn't say we were building the
Coliseum."
    "Ah, I could use a little help here," he teased, leaning
back on his heels in a crouched position.
    "What do you want me to do?"
    "Fill the bucket with wet sand. I guess we'll start
packing a foundation around the inside of the trench
and figure out the rest as we go along."
    They worked for an hour or so, piling sand and
smoothing the edges until the wall of the fortress was
formed.
    She'd been thinking about Brock all night, wanting
time with him alone. She'd wondered about todaywhere he'd been and, more importantly, who he'd
been with-when Will couldn't find him before the
performance.
    "Did you enjoy the afternoon?" she finally asked.

    He flashed her a smile. "I missed you. I came back to
the bus and you weren't there."
    "I was going to wait for you, but..."
    "You don't have to wait around for me, Josie. I don't
want you missing the sites just because Will's got me
tied up."
    Rolling her eyes she said, "Fine sites I saw today. I
did laundry."
    "Don't let the boys get wind of it. They'll hit you up
to do theirs."
    "They already did, but I told them they were on their
own."
    He laughed and dumped a pile of sand in the center. A warm gust of gulf breeze blew his hair all
around. He was so handsome, she had to pull her gaze
away.
    "You showed up just in the nick of time before the
show today. I thought Will was going to have a coronary."
    Brock packed the sand down with his hand while she
waited for him to answer. "The crowd was pretty thick
by the time I headed out to the stage. It took longer than
I expected."
    "Did you catch that reporter he was so anxious for
you to meet with before the show?"
    Brock looked at his work and seemed satisfied, then
stood. "Yeah, I met him." He strode back out toward the
tide and filled the bucket with more wet sand.
    Josie's heart pumped, unable to voice the questions
she so desperately wanted answered.
    She didn't say anything when he returned, just stared
at him.
    "He called me a clown," Brock said, shaking his head. The hurt in his voice was heart wrenching. It
wasn't at all what she'd expected.

    "A clown. What for?"
    "It's the darned clothes. I feel like a Vegas lounge
singer."
    Josie shook her head and chuckled softly, mostly to
rid herself of the tension plaguing her.
    "Brock, he wasn't calling you a clown, just the
clothes. And from what I understand, this reporter is
notorious for ripping performers apart. He has a wide
readership but everyone knows he goes for sensationalism in his column. You shouldn't let it bother you.
Regardless of what he said, the publicity is good."
    "He called me a clown, Josie." Brock wiped the sand
from his hands as if he were trying to get rid of his disgust over the whole thing. "He wasn't interested in anything about my music at all. Nothing about me or what
we were working for."
    "My point exactly." She softened her voice. "Look,
you have to put this into perspective. He was making a
comment about your clothes. So what? He wasn't calling Brock Gentry, the man, a clown."
    "He might as well have. And now all those fans who
were enjoying themselves today are going to read that
crap and-"
    "What, change their minds? I don't think so. If that
was the case, Grant Davies would still be flipping burgers at the Radio Grill."
    Brock shot a quick glance up at her with the mention