“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.
Keeping 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.
Travis’s lips lifted at the corners, erasing the groove dug between the pinch of his nose. “Maybe we’ll get another one in later.”
Instead of falling into Nash’s arms, she remained frozen, rubbing her hand over the goosebumps prickling her upper arm. His gaze slid up and down with every stroke of her hand, casually inspecting the tattoos coloring her skin.
As if reading her hesitation, he extended a hand and slipped the other around her waist. Ember placed her palm in his, her balance disintegrated, loosely easing into the rigid framework of his body.
He felt…so good.
Attempting to settle her angst, she pulled a deep breath through her nose, filling her lungs, before slowly pushing out a heavy exhale through pursed lips.
Nash held her secure, leading her through the narrow passages between other couples crowding the floor. Ember followed blindly. The uncomfortableness she felt a few minutes earlier cooled considerably. Their hips and thighs brushed against each other as they danced. Each point of physical connection became a comfort, but the silence oozing between them felt like thick mud after a spring Texas rainstorm.
Halfway through the song, he bent, lowering his mouth to her ear. The heat of his breath drew her closer as he asserted in an even tone, “He’s bad news, you know.”
Head sloping to the side in thought, she offered her own assessment, “He emanates heavy vibrations.”
“Then why are you dancing with him?”
“In case you haven’t noticed this is a dance hall. People come here to dance,” she pointed out. The atmosphere surrounding them arced with energy, passing between them on some invisible thread of wire. A constant push and pull of wariness versus want. “Thought you said you were out of commission?”
The warmth of his hand on her back sank through the thin cotton material of her shirt, sidetracking her thoughts. Once she noticed it, she couldn’t stop focusing on the heat seeping beneath her skin everywhere they touched.
“I’ll manage.” A small but genuine smile touched his full lips. Muted lighting played over the waves of thick hair. “What are you, some sort of psychic?”
Laughter shook her chest. She slipped her hand up over his shoulder to the nape of his neck. “No, just intuitive. I can usually a get a good read on someone the first time I meet them.”
“What’s your first impression of me?”
She considered stating the obvious, rich rancher’s son, but this man had as many layers as an onion.
Rocking back, she put a bit of space between them. Her head slanted, gaze falling to his hips. A severe blush seeped into the apples of her cheeks. Nice ass.
The fine lines near the corner of his eyes deepened, taking his own appraisal of her long legs.
At that moment, they were both psychic.
“You’re difficult for me to figure out.”
“I’m as easy as the day is long.” The teasing in his tone was full of allure. Sexy.
“Somehow that doesn’t shock me.”
Ember shivered as his soft laughter sifted through her long dark hair.
“Most people think they have me pegged within a matter of minutes.” He paused adding, “But they’re usually wrong.”
Filter lost to the distraction of his fingers toying with a strand of hair at the middle of her back, she answered honestly, “Other than saving my life, and a bit of charm that pops out occasionally, you’re kind of a jerk.”