Catching Ember (Buckle Up Series Book 1)

by Beverly Preston

  For a quick second, she was confused about his unexpected departure, but the distress in Bee’s eyes made his reaction crystal clear. The possibility of losing the ranch, a place he’d called home for decades, especially after losing a man who was as much a best friend as a boss, was too much to bear.

  Ember called out to him sticking her head out the door, “Mr. Montgomery!”

  He stopped in his tracks but refused to turn. She suspected his emotions got the best of him and Texas men weren’t known for their tears. Especially, a man like Mr. Montgomery. He was tough as nails and forged from iron.

  “I’m not much for diamonds,” she assured. He bowed his head, relief easing the tension from his squished shoulders. She entered the hall and stood at his side, looping an arm through his. Sentiments rimmed her lashes. “Why would I want a pony when I already have Storm and I don’t even know how to shoot a gun.”

  Laughter wobbled in his throat. He slipped her a sidelong glance. “I guess we need to fix that, don’t we?”

  “Yes, sir. I think it’s a must.”

  Chapter 6

  Ember

  If you stumble, make it part of the dance.

  In typical Texas style, the parking lot at The Garage was littered with everything from luxurious sports cars to classic trucks covered in a layer of dirt. Loud music spilled out the door as she entered the trendy honky tonk.

  Ember pushed through the crowd. The smell of stale cigarettes and countless spilled beers inundated her senses. Dark wood and neon signs covered the walls, and rows of low tables surrounding the dance floor were topped with longneck bottles and plates of barbeque. This was the kind of place that people who did real cowboy things for a living came to play.

  Peering through a sea of hats, she spotted Reed’s dark hair and wide shoulders at the bar. JC sat beside him, swaying to an old George Jones melody.

  “Hey,” Ember shouted over the music, greeting JC and Reed with open arms. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  “We’re glad you could make it,” JC and Reed replied simultaneously. They showered each other with wide smiles laughing at their own expense.

  Reed wrapped an arm around his wife pulling her beneath his wing, affectionately kissing the top of her head. “It’s nice to have a night out.”

  Ember couldn’t wipe the silly grin from her face, watching as his hand dropped back and grabbed a handful of his wife’s ass, causing her to blush. JC and Reed oozed love and lust and everything in between. Their bond as a couple and family was unbreakable. There wasn’t anything they couldn’t tackle. She found the good energy they emitted to be nothing short of contagious. It could make any sensibly single person yearn for a love like theirs.

  A stocky man grasped Reed roughly by the shoulder giving him a wobbly shake, orneriness shined brightly in his boyish smirk. His deep voice boomed, “Hey, now. Don’t be starting that lovey-dovey stuff already.”

  “Jealous? You want me to squeeze your butt too?” Reed teased, gripping the man’s hand with a hard shake.

  “Behave yourselves, you two,” JC advised playfully, exchanging hugs with the man and the petite blond woman at his side. They huddled together, heads bent, talking over the music. She turned, extending an arm toward Ember. “Sam and Jenny, I want you to meet a good friend of ours, Ember Thompson. Ember, this is Sam and Jenny Harris.”

  Ember immediately recognized the name Harris.

  Sam straightened to his full height. His eyes widened before narrowing into a smile. A web of lines pleated outward from the corners of his eyes raking a lazy inspection over her features.

  “Well of course you are.” He reached for her hand, clasping it between both of his. “My goodness. You look a lot like your daddy.”

  A strange sense of pride flushed her face. “I guess I don’t really see the similarities yet. Are you his neighbor?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Or at least I used to be. My daddy owns a nice little patch of land that runs alongside yours.” His gaze remained fixed. “I hear you’re causing quite a stir around here.”

  Pleasantries drained from her features souring her smile. “I haven’t done anything but—”

  “No, no sweetheart, don’t take that the wrong way.” Sam’s loud laughter carried over all the white noise. “All the old timers, they thought they had things all figured out and then a young woman gets tossed into the mix. You’d think half of Fort Worth lost their damn minds.”

  The bartender appeared in a flash. “What’ll you have, Mr. Harris?”

  Ember could barely contain the list of questions sifting through her brain faster than the credits of a movie. She attempted to prioritize by importance, but it was impossible.

  Sam glanced down the bar at the drinks in front of his friends. He twirled his finger in a circle indicating another round before ordering a beer for himself, and a glass of cabernet for his wife. He turned to Ember and asked, “What are you drinking?”

  She drew a deep breath in through her nose calming the urgency growing inside. “I’ll have a Panty Dropper.”

  Sam tilted his head toward his wife, sliding her a sultry grin. He whispered something in her ear, turning Jenny’s face a nice shade of pink, before calling out to the bartender, “Make that two Panty Droppers.”

  JC raised her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Yes, please.”

  Ember rested her palm on his forearm. “Why do you say that? You know, the part about half of Fort Worth losing their minds.”

  “Sweetheart, you’re the one holding all the cards.” He leaned in closer. “Surely Monty has explained how special Walker Ranch is.”

  A cold unpleasant feeling of trepidation tumbled through her gut like a child rolling down a grassy hill on a summer’s day.

  Ember wanted to grab Sam by the arm, haul him outside, and ask a hundred questions. She struggled to swallow the angst clawing up her throat like a cat trying to get out of a well full of water.

  “Monty? You mean Mr. Montgomery?”

  He nodded. A hint of apprehension wedged between his brows.

  “There’s so much for me to learn. I’m sure he’s probably trying not to overwhelm me. Or maybe he already mentioned it and I just haven’t grasped the magnitude of the situation.”

  JC wagged a finger. “You’re here to go dancing and have some fun tonight.”

  Ember opened her mouth to disagree but paused watching Sam pull his business card from his wallet. “You can call me anytime. I’ll fill in any blanks I can. Monty’s a good man, but I’m sure he’s got a full plate, running the ranch and protecting you.”

  “Protecting me?” Her eyes widened.

  Sam tossed her a reassuring smile and patted her hand. “Didn’t mean to scare you. You’re not in any danger, but every rancher and driller within a two-thousand-mile radius is waiting on bated breath to see if you decide to call Walker Ranch home.”

  The bartender set three martini glasses on the bar. JC handed off the drinks to Ember and Jenny and raised her glass. “To a night of fun with good friends.”

  Desperately needing to take the edge off, Ember took a good, long sip of the pink concoction, hoping to calm her jumbled nerves.

  The song “Cowboy Casanova” rose above the low roar of voices. JC grabbed her by the hand, tugging her off the barstool. “No more ranch talk tonight. It’s time to dance.”

  Ember got in one more sip before JC and Jenny dragged her onto the crowded dance floor. The three women squeezed into the second row, jumping right into the steps.

  Grooving to the music lifted her mood, allowing her to get out of her head and abandon the stress she’d been under. After three songs, several bumped shoulders, and a couple of smashed toes, they made their way back to the bar.

  “You’re right! This is just what I needed,” Ember confessed happily.

  Weaving through the crowd, she recognized a set of wide shoulders, and a phenomenal ass that seemed to defy gravity, standing with Reed and Sam at the bar.

  The sight of him dressed in a pair
of tight jeans and a white shirt sent a sweet rush of delight through her center. The casual attire seemed more fitting for his rugged frame than the suit she’d seen him in previously.

  Picking up her pace, she turned back, telling JC, “That’s him!”

  JC cupped her ear. “What? I can’t hear you!”

  Ember halted amongst the crowd. A giddy smile spread across her face as she leaned in closer to JC’s ear, excitement rising in her voice, pointing toward the man standing beside Reed. “That’s him! That’s the guy…the cowboy in the suit.”

  “Hero?” JC wiggled her brow, voice bubbled with intrigue. She tilted her head to inspect the package, but as soon as she peeked, JC laughed out loud, exclaiming, “That’s Sam’s younger brother Nash!”

  Making her way back to her seat, Ember’s heart thumped in sync with the rhythmic music. He caught sight of her as she approached, a faint smile lifting into a sexy lopsided grin. His gaze swept down the length of her body, lingering over her tone legs sticking out from a pair of cut-off shorts, before landing on her face.

  Their eyes locked, releasing a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. The lazy inspection filled her with dangerous heat, sparking fire to her core. Warmth licked up her neck, setting the lobes of her ears on fire.

  “Hey,” she said awkwardly, her voice nothing more than a timid whisper. There was no way he heard her, but his eyes were glued to her lips. The blue so intense it reached inside and stole her breath. “I’m Ember Thompson.”

  After a beat, he extended a hand. “Nash Harris.”

  Gratitude too much to ignore, she couldn’t stop herself from bypassing his hand and wrapping her arms around his shoulders for a quick squeeze. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you.”

  Her stomach swooped noting the hard planes of his body. The same elusive scents of lemon and leather and a warm summer’s day engulfed her senses. She tasted it on her tongue.

  Nash returned the hug with a quick squeeze. Being smashed between couples as they were, when he dropped his arm to his side his palm accidently ghosted over her bottom sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

  They both fell silent, but the air around them snapped with chemistry.

  A host of sentiments layered her skin in colors, gratitude and appreciation collided with an intense presence of attraction.

  Hand still glued to his bicep, she reveled in the play of dense muscles beneath her fingers. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from the clean-shaven skin on his throat…the same spot her lips had brushed that morning at the coffee shop.

  “I think I’m your neighbor.”

  “If you’re old man Walker’s daughter then we are indeed neighbors.”

  Sam joined the conversation, drawing Ember out of her lust-filled stupor. “She’s got some similarities, don’t you think?”

  “If you say so. I hadn’t really noticed,” Nash said brusquely. His smile faded and he stepped closer to the bar to order a drink.

  She wasn’t sure who looked more surprised by his curtness, her or Sam. Ember stood there, fumbling for a reaction. Forcing an awkward smile, she recanted the entire story of the stampede to Sam, elaborating with wild hand gestures and flailing arms.

  Nash kept his back to her, never bothering to turn or interject. He simply stared at his drink in front of him. Sam slid a few glances toward his brother. The perplexed scowl, a clear indication he was surprised by his brother’s lack of manners.

  The longer she babbled on, the more his disregard jabbed at her pride. In fact, it pissed her off. What made it worse was she wasn’t sure who she was more irritated with; him for snubbing her or herself for giving two shits.

  You’re being ridiculous. You don’t even know the man.

  And he’s kind of an ass.

  But kind of not.

  Sexy for sure.

  JC nudged him with her elbow. “Hi Nash. I heard you met my good friend, Ember, the other day. Good thing you showed up when you did.”

  “Na, it was nothing,” he assured in a casual tone as if saving women from a stampede was an everyday occurrence.

  “Didn’t sound like nothing to me.”

  “H.O.L.Y.” by Florida Georgia Line started to play calling couples to the dance floor. Reed curled an arm around his wife’s waist.

  JC rested her palm on Nash’s bicep. “I’m glad you’re here. Ember’s here by herself too. You should ask her to dance.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Ember blurted, glaring at JC.

  JC’s only reply was a sly, exaggerated wink.

  “I’m afraid I’m out of commission.” Nash rubbed a hand over the denim covering his solid thigh. Looking at Ember, he rationed out an obligatory smile as if was the most unnatural attribute he possessed. “Twisted my knee a bit the other morning.”

  Reed whisked his wife to the dance floor, leaving Ember alone with Nash. She wanted to apologize for JC’s forwardness, but opted not to.

  “Sorry about your knee.” She pinched the stem of her glass to keep from straightening a stray lock of his hair poking out near the collar of his shirt.

  “Not your fault.”

  His austere posture was a clear indication he wasn’t in the mood for talking.

  Or maybe he simply didn’t want to talk to her.

  Either way, she ignored the incessant urge to strike up a friendly conversation and turned away from him watching the couples on the dance floor.

  I’ve got no room for negativity in my life. Why are you even remotely interested? Clearly, he’s not. Probably has a girlfriend.

  Ember nearly jumped out of her skin feeling a large hand brush along the small of her back.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Miss Thompson.” A deep voice rose above the music, capturing her attention…and Nash’s.

  Though he was missing a pair of chaps and a layer of dirt, Ember recognized the man from the day she watched the cowboys branding calves. He wedged his long, lean, muscular form between her and Nash.

  “Hello. It’s Travis, right?” Ember remembered his name, she also remembered Storm’s adverse reaction. The little knot gathering in her stomach cautioned her to steer clear.

  “Yes, ma’am. Travis White.” He smiled tucking a thumb into the waistband of his jeans, fingers splayed across a large silver buckle. “My goodness, you’re a sight for sore eyes. You look beautiful tonight.”

  “Thank you,” she replied in a level tone.

  “You gettin’ all settled in at the ranch?”

  “Starting to.” Needing to turn her attention elsewhere, she waved at the bartender attempting to get his attention.

  “Whatcha drinkin’?” Not waiting for her reply, Travis lifted a brawny arm and whistled at the man behind the bar.

  She cringed, offering a contrite smile to the bartender when he approached.

  “What’ll you have?” Travis asked again.

  Beyond the outline of Travis’s shoulder, she watched Nash’s long fingers curl into tight fists. Tension rippled through his heavily muscled forearms. Ember could feel the animosity rolling off him in turbulent waves.

  “That’s not necessary. We’ve got a tab open.” She had no idea if Sam had a tab, but it didn’t seem appropriate to let Travis buy her drink.

  The bartender asked, “Another Panty Dropper?”

  This sparked both men’s attention.

  Though she could only see his profile, Nash’s brow perked, and the corner of his lip quirked.

  “That’s sounds like a drink meant for a night of fun.” A sultry grin stretched across Travis’s wide mouth.

  Nash turned in his seat, glaring straight at her from over Travis’s shoulder. The muscles of his jaw clamped so tight he could’ve bit a stick in two. Her throat felt constricted and scratchy, like she had a mouth full of cotton. She couldn’t swallow.

  In a stupor, her eyes shifted to Travis. His lips were moving, but she had no idea what he was saying. The blood rush of her pulse pounded loudly in her ears drowning out his voice.

  K
eeping his gaze locked on her, Nash took a swig of his drink. Volatile blue heat pierced right through her chest. His full lips pressed blade thin. He looked like he wanted to commit murder.

  Squirming under his speculative gaze, she dropped her eyes to the floor. The feelings growing inside her were maddening. She didn’t even know him and she certainly didn’t deserve to be glared at…especially since he barely spoke to her earlier. Yet, his unsaid scrutiny twisted painfully in her gut.

  Ember couldn’t breathe.

  She needed to escape.

  “You wanna dance?” she heard Travis ask.

  Without answering, she merely gave a slight nod and headed for the dance floor.

  Travis led her around the crowded room. His rugged good looks drew attention from women around the dance floor and his skills were more than adequate, but Ember couldn’t relax. She felt clumsy and detached, rebuffing his attempts to hold her close, which made for awkward dancing.

  She refused to look toward the bar but could feel Nash’s stare sinking deep into her skin. She concentrated on the tiny white buttons of Travis’s shirtfront as he whirled her around the dance floor.

  After the second song ended, Nash appeared at her side. A chill rushed over her. He gave her a particular look, one that made her breath hitch and her legs wobble.

  “Can I cut in?” he asked, his deep, husky tone curt and to the point.

  “Hell, no. Go find—”

  “Sure.”

  Ember couldn’t release Travis’s hand fast enough, but it took a couple of heartbeats for him to remove his palm from her back.

  Nash grew impatient.

  Very impatient.

  “The lady said she’d like to dance with me.”

  The two men obviously knew each other…and they weren’t friends.

  “Thanks for the dance.” Ember forced a smile.