The private joke caused them both to laugh out loud.
After an hour of listening to the girl’s non-stop chatter, Ember decided she’d endured all the flashbacks from her high school years that she could bear. Rising from her chair, the 190-proof alcohol hit all her reflexes at once. Her legs felt numb and uncoordinated causing her to stagger.
She didn’t even see Nash get up, but he was at her side, cupping her by the elbow, steadying her wobbles.
“Whoa. That snuff is strong.” Her tongue felt thick and heavy. Ember tilted her chin upward, witnessing a blur of his white smile. She tried again, enunciating her words a bit slower, “That stuff is strong…not snuff. I said it wrong, didn’t’ I?”
“Yeah, it’s okay. You got it right the second time.”
Her eyes squinted gauging the distance from the fire pit to the house. The longer she contemplated putting one foot in front of the other, the more she swayed.
“You want me to walk with you to the house?”
“Na, I’m good. I got this.” She started to walk, but her impaired motor skills left her clumsy.
“I’m heading that direction anyway. I’ll walk with you. Maybe we can get JC to make some coffee.”
“Okay.” Looping her arm through his they trekked toward the house. Ember shoved the glass toward him. “Here, I shouldn’t drink anymore of this. Whew, man, I’m a little buzzed.”
“Ya think?”
“Coffee’s a brilliant idea, Nash. I definitely need some before I can drive home.” The surprise in her voice sounded as if it was the best idea she’d ever heard in her life. “You know, I don’t really drink very often.”
“I would’ve never guessed.”
“I know you’re teasing me.”
Keeping one arm behind her back, Nash stopped to open the sliding back door. Ember teetered and pitched forward, inadvertently shoving him back a step until his shoulder landed against the doorjamb. She didn’t move, merely snuggled up against the firm muscles of his chest.
“Sorry.” Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, she flashed him an apologetic smile. Shaky laughter jumped in her throat, bouncing up and down with each breath. “Kind of. Not really. Can we just stand here for a sec. You feel so comfortable—which is so weird because your chest is like—rock hard.”
A soft rumble recoiled beneath her cheek. His fingers stroked lightly over her hair.
“Are you comfy, Ember?” JC snickered, passing through the open door.
“Yes, I am.” Forcing herself from his torso, she pulled her eyes wide for focus. “Hey, where’d you come from?”
“Would you mind making some coffee?” Nash asked, keeping Ember upright.
“I was just coming inside to brew a pot. I need to have a chat with your brother. If he’s going to bring that moonshine, he needs to mix it with more cider.”
“No! That stuff is soooo good.”
“My point exactly.”
Nash assisted her inside and down the hallway, only releasing her arm when they reached the bathroom. After taking the longest pee of her life, Ember splashed a little cold water on her face and rinsed her mouth. Making her way back to the kitchen she found JC and Reed huddled around the marble island with Nash, talking in hushed voices.
JC poured her a cup of strong coffee and Nash pushed a silver platter loaded with bite-size sandwiches Ember’s direction, encouraging her to eat.
“Thanks. Sorry, I don’t know what happened. One minute I was fine and the next…”
“No need to apologize, hon. It happens to the best of us.” Reed handed her a bottle of water.
“You can crash in the spare bedroom.”
“I’ll be fine once I get some food in me. I haven’t eaten since lunch.” Glancing up from her turkey and provolone on rye, Ember witnessed a shared glance, riddled with concern, passing between the three of them.
“I’ll give you a lift home. I’m going right next door.”
“That’s nice of you to offer, but—”
“Take your pick,” JC insisted in a harsh chiding tone. “You’re either staying here, which is totally fine, or Nash is giving you a lift, but you’re not driving.”
Ember’s lashes fluttered in a beat of rapid successions, eyes darting between their serious glares. She downed half a bottle of water washing down the last bite of her sandwich.
Her gaze swung to Nash. “You really don’t mind giving me a ride? Monty and I are going over—” She stopped abruptly, not wanting to talk about the ranch in front of him. “I have plans tomorrow.”
“I don’t mind.” The rigid brackets surrounding Nash’s full lips softened. “I’ll take you home.”
Those four little words could be construed several different ways.
She just wasn’t completely sure how she wanted to take them.
Chapter 11
Ember
Life is meant to take chances.
It took exactly three songs to get Nash to sing along with her as she belted out song after song on the ride home. His deep, rich tone shredded every country melody.
Coffee kicked in, trumping any effects of lingering alcohol. Ember’s body moved to the bass. She snapped her fingers with the beat, singing along with “America’s Sweetheart” by Elle King as it blared through the speakers of his fully restored 1967 Chevy truck. Dancing in her seat, she raised her arms drumming her hands on the headliner of his truck.
The chemistry between them rose to a new peak of a mountain she’d never climbed. She knew damn well she was pushing the envelope. The man hadn’t peeled his eyes off her all night.
And she liked it.
A lot.
Shared looks, full of yearning and desire, passing between them were mutual.
The alcohol that had simmered in her blood earlier had completely worn off by the time she caught a glimpse of the Walker Ranch sign through the windshield. He turned onto the roughly paved road and the wind whipped through her hair, loose strands sticking to her glossed lips. Slipping a finger between her skin and hair, she brushed the stray strands from her mouth.
“You Look Good” by Lady Antebellum came on and she slowed her groove. The words of the song settled into her heart with meaning. Ember hung her arm out the window riding the push of warm night air like a wave, heart thundering along with the hum of tires.
Turning to drink in another glimpse of his handsome profile, her body heated with each visual caress.
“Nash,” she purred. “You look really good.”
The curve of his wide smile turned her insides into a rhythmic chaos.
“I think that shine made you delirious.”
“That shine wore off a long time ago.”
“That so?” His tone, low and hungry, teased along every nerve ending she possessed.
“Yes.”
She moistened her lips with a sweep of her tongue. It was all she could do to keep herself from crawling over the bench seat and into his lap. She wanted to unbuckle. She wanted to kiss his gorgeous mouth, lick the taut muscle cording down the side of his neck, slip the tips of her fingers beneath the collar of his shirt. The mere thought of running her hands over his bare chest sent shivers rocketing through her body, tremors struck so deep it made her shoulder flinch.