Catching Ember (Buckle Up Series Book 1)

by Beverly Preston

  “What? No…I wasn’t trying to tackle you.”

  He flashed her an honest to goodness smile, filled with playful teasing.

  God, she wanted to touch him, cup his handsome face in her hands and kiss him. What are you thinking? Salvaging a miniscule of composure, she twisted her neck, so their lips weren’t in quite such close proximity.

  Peering upward, she cleared her throat, simmering, “I was beginning to wonder if you had any teeth behind those lips.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You’re smiling.”

  His throaty laugher echoed through the expansive room.

  Not trusting her lack of self-control, she moved sideways casually inspecting his apartment…or at least pretending to. The furniture was built on a largescale and appeared to be designed with comfort in mind. Sunlight streamed through the wraparound windows showcasing the rich, earth-tone colors bringing warmth to the modern elements of steel and wood.

  Tugging the rubber band from her hair, she casually dragged her fingers through the tussled mass. Ember could feel the heat of his gaze fixed upon her every move as she refastened the pony.

  Big windows, big view, big ego. No doubt it was a dose of urban living at its finest and way out of her league. Not that I want to be in his league.

  “Nice place. I thought you lived next door to me.”

  “I grew up there, so it’s still home to me. I’ve been staying there, helping out, since my dad’s knee replacement.” Nash strode into the kitchen, removing his tie and unfastening the top two buttons of his shirt. Gesturing toward a waxy, raspberry-colored smear located about six buttons down, he mused, “What is it with you and your lip gloss?”

  “I can have it cleaned.”

  “Na, it’s okay. Maybe next time you can aim for my skin instead of my shirt.”

  Ember wasn’t sure which skin he referred to, but she decided it was probably best not to ask. That’d be like stepping on a mound of fire ants expecting not to get stung.

  Nash retrieved two glasses and a bottle of single barrel whiskey from the bar cabinet. Ember shook her head slightly, declining the offer.

  “Wine?”

  “No thanks.”

  “You don’t want to have a drink with me?”

  Is this a trick question?

  “Not sure that’d be a good idea.”

  His brow perked at the hint of indecision lurking in her answer.

  “You just took on a boardroom full of seven of the biggest names this side of the Mississippi. I’m sure you could manage a drink with just one.”

  “You’re probably the most ruthless out of all of them.”

  “If you define ruthless as determined ambition then you’re probably not too far off.”

  The silkiness in his deep tone drew her in. Ember faced him head on, questioning in a soft voice, “Why didn’t you tell me you were trying to buy Walker Ranch?”

  Ring. Ring. Ring.

  Ember searched for her purse which had landed by the door when she tripped. Seeing her mother’s image on the screen, she held up her pointer finger. “Excuse me a sec. Hey, Mom. I’m in the middle of a meeting. Can I call you later?”

  “Is everything okay?” June fought to control the apprehension from heightening her voice.

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Ember moseyed toward the window, watching the sun sink southward, beginning its nightly departure.

  “Okay. Are you sure? I saw glass and you falling and—”

  “Honest, everything is fine. I tripped and my meeting is in a skyscraper downtown. I promise, I’m all in one piece. I’ll call you later.”

  “All right, sweetie.” She released a deep exhale. “Good luck at your meeting. Love you.”

  “Thanks. Love you too.”

  A glass half full of whiskey dangled from his long fingers. “This situation must be hard for your mom. Watching you take on all the responsibilities of the ranch. Having you be away from home.”

  Ember turned to peer at his eyes. Intuition burned in her tummy.

  He didn’t so much as budge.

  Not even a blink.

  “This isn’t the first time I’ve been away from home, Nash. I’ve been on my own since I was nineteen.” Her gaze narrowed. “But somehow I get the feeling you already know that.”

  He made zero attempt to deny the claim, instead he merely raised the glass to his full lips and took a long draw of the umber-colored liquid.

  “Your mom…she clairvoyant or something?”

  “Something like that.” Ember folded her arms across her chest. “Are you going to answer my question?”

  “It’s a difficult question.”

  “Not really.”

  “Let’s just say I wasn’t expecting you,” he paused, “to show up.”

  Alarm bells rattled her bones.

  “That all you got to say?”

  The air shimmering around them grew taut. All the warm and fuzzy feelings that had been gathering force fell away, dissipating into the fog now clouding her brain. Something was there, hidden beneath the fine exterior of the man at her side. She knew he was either lying, hiding, or cheating.

  None of which were acceptable.

  An indignant scoff erupted in her chest. Ember’s arms felt heavy and encumbered as they fell to her sides. “Yeah, well, I’m here. Guess you better get used to it.”

  Turning on a heel, she picked up her purse and walked toward the door.

  “You’re leaving?” A puzzled frown weaved between his dark brows.

  “I don’t like to be lied to or fucked with. You seem like a smart man, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” she said flatly.

  He reached up, flattening the palm of his hand to the door, hindering her escape.

  “Not even a little fucked with?”

  She stood there, breathless, staring at his shirt front. The drift of his warm breath floated over the top of her head. Without moving, she peered upward sliding him a dark glance. “Not even the tiniest fuck.”

  Wicked playfulness gleamed in his eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to help you out with a tiny fuck.”

  Fire erupted inside, sparks of awareness pushing through her veins. Thoughts fractured, unraveling her composure to bits. If she didn’t leave in the next few seconds she’d either cry or kiss him.

  Neither would be good.

  Ember tried to speak, but nothing came out. She licked her lips, forced a swallow, and tried again. “I’d expect nothing less. I’m sure you’re a real big prick.”

  He turned the knob and opened the door. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve thoroughly enjoyed our talk.”

  “Fuck you, Nash.”

  His blue eyes danced with amusement. “Maybe next time, Ember.”

  As furious as she was, Ember couldn’t stop the idiotic grin from seeping into the apples of her cheeks as she strutted across the hall to the elevator and pushed the button. As she waited for the elevator, the burn of his stare penetrated her backside, causing her to squirm.

  The doors opened. Ember stepped inside, turned, and popped one leg to the side as if she were showing off a designer gown at the Oscars. As the doors began to close, she flipped him the bird, presenting him one final fuck off.

  Savoring the solitude of the small confines, she caught a glimpse of her flustered image in the mirrored doors. Ember murmured in disgust, “Nice, real nice. Why am I letting him get to me?” Fury and disappointment meshed. Casting an index finger at her reflection, she concluded, “Because you’re the fucking yo-yo.”

  Chapter 9

  Nash

  A jolt of sensual energy crashed into him nearly dropping him to his knees.

  Nash’s heart pounded, gawking at her perfect ass and tiny waist as she marched toward the elevator. He couldn’t pin down what part of her he found more attractive, the grit she possessed, her playful banter, or the way her dark eyes ignited when she looked up at him.

  After the dose of high-octane flirting, he had to restrain himself from g
oing after her. He wanted to spread his fingers over the curve of her hips, to unfasten the zipper running down the length of her skirt, to expose the perfection hidden beneath.

  He wanted to see her. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to fuck her until his name spilled from her gorgeous raspberry lips.

  The thick rope of chestnut hair cascading between her shoulder blades swished with each step, practically calling out his name, begging to be tugged.

  Just a little.

  Or a lot.

  Fuck, he’d give it to her however she wanted it.

  When the elevator opened, she marched inside and spun to face him. Nash smoothed the rising hunger from the notch between his brows, showering her with a haughty grin.

  Ember crossed her arms over her breasts, nailing him with a piercing stare and flipping him the bird right before the doors closed.

  Laughter rolled up his throat.

  Staring at the closed doors he was hit with a tremor of desire coiling through his gut like a rattler ready to strike. He drew in a deep breath. The soft, pretty scent of her traveled along every nerve ending he possessed leaving him feeling bereft.

  Releasing the doorjamb from the solid grip of his fingers, Nash adjusted his hard on with the heel of his hand.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he grumbled to himself, treading inside his apartment.

  A brief mental tug-o-war ensued, an incessant round of pulling and tugging, pitting shrewdness and logic against the stiffness of his dick and the strange ache in his chest. Neither side of his conscience willing to budge an inch.

  Stripping his jacket from his shoulders, he retrieved his cell phone from the inside pocket, and dialed Randy’s number.

  “Are you still at the Tower Building?”

  “Yeah. I’m getting ready to take off in about fifteen.”

  “I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Sure thing, boss. What do ya need?”

  “I need you to go to the boardroom on the thirtieth floor.”

  Chapter 10

  Ember

  A daughter is a mother’s treasure and a father’s pride and joy.

  Ember tossed and turned all night. Morning still held onto the edges of darkness when she and Mr. Montgomery left the house. He assured her that she handled the meeting perfectly, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of defeat.

  The round of verbal sparring with Nash left her with the heady feeling of inevitability that grew like an orgasm to a crescendo just before she reached the point of no return. The push and pull of their combative, yet spirited, chemistry felt like nonstop foreplay. Previously, she’d endured being left high-and-dry by her last boyfriend on far too many occasions and the stinging reminder left her agitated and moody.

  “Are all of these statistics and data written down somewhere, so I can read over them and study the information?” she asked Mr. Montgomery. She’d been listening to the drone of his voice for nearly three hours, rattling off fact after fact about cattle, horses, and ranching as a whole. “I’m never going to retain everything you’re telling me.”

  His frown dipped so low she could actually see his bottom lip protrude past his mustache.

  “It’s not that I’m ignorant.” Frustration and grumpiness saturated her tone. “My brain simply doesn’t work like that. I retain information much better when I have a visual document to study from.”

  He waved a hand at their surroundings. “I suggest you try and think of the lay of the land as your visual document. You want me to get you a topographical map?”

  Ember merely shook her head. Feelings of inadequacy deflated the small strides of accomplishment she’d made previously. It was a growing battle she feared she’d never conquer.

  After fifteen minutes of riding in silence, her mood settled into a sedated state of exhaustion. Moderate tree cover protected them from the day’s climbing heat as they road across the flat land, winding through oak and pine. They stopped along the riverbank allowing the horses to drink. Storm’s black mane shined like course silk in the bright sunshine, his beautiful steel gray coat an even mixture of white and dark hairs.

  Gazing across the rushing water, she couldn’t help but think of Nash. She considered asking Mr. Montgomery about him, but he never questioned her about what happened when she stayed after the meeting or how she knew Nash, so she figured it’d be best to keep it to herself.

  “If you had to name one thing, what would you consider the most difficult thing about ranching?” she questioned earnestly.

  His response was instant and matter-of-fact. “The hardest part of the ranching business is Mother Nature. She’s either working for you or against you, and she seems to work against you more times than not.”

  “I always think of Mother Nature as more of the divine goddess of fertility.”

  “Well, that may work just fine when you work inside a warm, dry climate adjusted by the mere touch of a thermostat, but when you’re working outside under the harshest of elements, that woman can be a real bitch.”

  Ember couldn’t help but laugh. Growing up in Austin, she’d met her fair share of unique individuals, hippies, hipsters, musicians, and actors, but none of them measured up to the man riding beside her. She wondered how much he was like her father, if they shared similarities in their views and personalities.

  A sting of emotions tickled her nose. Tears welled behind her sunglasses. “Mr. Montgomery, do you think he…my father would’ve liked me?”

  His body stiffened in the saddle and a deep frown furrowed between his brows. “Of course. He loved you.”

  “No, I mean, do you think he would’ve liked me? You know, as a person?”

  He rode up beside her and stared her in the eye. Warding off any oncoming emotions, he gave a grim twist of the mouth and a spat to the ground.

  “I reckon he would’ve liked you. You’re a smart young woman with a lot of gusto and he would’ve accepted nothing less had he raised you himself. He was not an easy man. I’m certain he would’ve been a bit tough on you…when he wasn’t wrapped around your little finger.” A smile lifted behind his gray whiskers. “I’m sure he crowed in heaven yesterday when you left your DNA sample on the rim of that glass.”

  “In a good way?”

  “Yes, ma’am. You made him proud.” He pinched the brim of his hat between his finger and thumb, giving her a nod. “You would’ve been his sunshine and his stars.” His face reddened. “Now, that’s all I’ve got to say about that.”

  Overwhelmed by the excessive amount of ranch-al-a-overload, Ember began to feel beaten and overpowered by the impossible task laid at her feet. It wasn’t as if she had one new job to conquer, she had dozens. And not one of them was easy or simple or remotely familiar.

  The easiest decision of her life would be to walk away from the ranch and move on a wealthy woman. Selling the estate would afford luxuries she’d never imagined and the ability to make every dream she’d ever dreamed come true. Opportunities of travel, opening her own yoga studio, owning a home, the prospects were endless. Ambitions that had always been out of reach now hovered over the palm of her hand.

  It seemed so simple.

  All she had to do was sign on the dotted line.

  Yet, when she gazed out over the expansive property, the characterization of her dreams began to bleed around the edges like the colors of a Texas sunrise. The future was anything but clear. Her inner dialogue stuck in a tug-of-war between steadfast determination and self-criticism. No amount of mediation quieted the tiny voice in the back of her mind.

  Days began to run together, the difference between Mondays and Saturdays, undistinguishable. A text from JC, inviting her to a Friday night backyard bonfire, a clear indication that the weekend was quickly approaching.

  And it couldn’t get there fast enough.

  After making the forty-five-minute drive to JC and Reed’s, she parked her car alongside a dozen others. Ember opted to wear her hair long, letting the waves cascade down the middle of her back. Lace
trim around the neckline and hem added the perfect mix of femininity and comfort, along with the jewel embellished straps on her sandals. It felt good to put on a little makeup and slip into something other than jeans and boots. The fact that she didn’t smell like animals or manure was an added perk.

  The hem of her teal dress brushed against her thighs as she strolled toward the house. A chuckle of frustration shook her chest, reading a note taped to the door. Come around to the back.

  “God, what I wouldn’t do for some of that,” she mused under her breath, making her way through the house to the backyard.

  Ember moseyed beyond the patio and gated pool surrounded by pristine landscape of greenery and boulders, following the music toward the glow of the fire in the distance.

  What she expected to be an intimate gathering of JC and Reed’s friends turned out to be more of a party. Thirty or so people gathered around a teardrop aluminum camper that had been renovated into a mobile mini bar, complete with bartender, and a large fire pit surrounded by log benches and lawn chairs.

  She spotted Chloe playing with a handful of kids, each straddling a different colored stick horse, galloping in the grass.

  “Ember!” she squealed with delight, trotting toward her.

  “Hey! Nice job, sweetie! You said my name perfectly!” She offered a high five before placing a kiss to the top of her curly dark locks. Chloe beamed in response. “What’s your horse’s name?”

  The little girl curled an arm around Ember’s leg, giving it a long squeeze. “This is Beauty. Isn’t she pretty?” she asked, stroking its dark brown head with her little fingers.

  “I’d say you gave her the perfect name. She’s beautiful. Did you know that I have a real horsey now?” The little girl’s eyes popped wide showering her with a beam of excitement that only a three-year-old could exude. “Yep, I have a real horse now and its name is Storm.”