Page 1 of Montana Heat

Prologue

Jensen Chambers

One year ago

“I’m not a mechanic, Lucas. You know that, right?”

Lucas Everett turned and grinned at me as we walked through the empty automotive repair garage in Garnet Bend, Montana.

“Only in that you never formally went to school for it. You were always tinkering with engines when we were kids. By the time we graduated, you could fix anything on wheels, and you know it.”

I shrugged, walking around the place, appreciating the tools and equipment that would’ve made the repairs I’d done as a teen so much easier. As it was, I’d made do since I could do a lot of work on my friends’ vehicles and make good money at it.

Friends Lucas had introduced me to when I’d moved in next door to him at fifteen.

Most boys Lucas’s age didn’t want to have anything to do with a kid who had been kicked around the foster system and had arrived at his new family’s house with his shit in a garbage bag.

Teens were brutal, and most of them had been happy to make fun of my lack of family and belongings.

Not Lucas. He’d walked over the first day I’d arrived and asked if I wanted to shoot some hoops. And then had never left me behind. Not once. Not ever.

Even as we’d grown and gone different directions in life, we’d stayed close. Lucas was a brother in every way but blood.

“Okay, yeah, I have some innate skills when it comes to vehicles. But I have a job. So I don’t know why you brought me out here.”

He pushed a rolling tool tray a little farther off to the side. “You have a job you hate.”

“Eh. Hate is a strong word. I like the security field.”

“But you don’t like being middle management.”

I studied the vehicle lift in front of me. It was in good shape. “That’s true. Middle management sucks ass.”

Lucas chuckled. “And studying surveillance screens until your eyes blur then writing five point two million reports per week isn’t much better.”

I walked over and crouched down in front of an air compressor. It looked to be in pretty good shape. “Also true.”

“Last time you visited the ranch, I tried to talk you into staying, but you said you weren’t a cowboy.”

I snickered without looking at him. “Still aren’t. Animals aren’t my thing.”

“I get it, man. You didn’t feel like there was a place for you. We’ll probably never get you up on a horse. This garage would create a place for you here. You could do what you love.”

“I don’t know that being a mechanic is what I love.”

He leaned up against the wall. “What you love is working with your hands. But more than that, Jensen, this is a chance for you to work foryourself. To own something outright. I know how much that means to you. You weretalking about an investment last time you visited. This could be it.”

As much as I didn’t like my security job—and Lucas was right, being at other people’s beck and call had never been what I wanted—it had always paid well. And from there, I’d saved and grown a successful stock portfolio.

“When I said investment, I meant in the Resting Warrior Ranch. Helping you guys help more people.”

What Lucas and the guys did there was impressive.Important. Training service and emotional support animals to help people suffering from PTSD? Offering them a chance to recover through the healing freedom of the Montana range?

I wanted to be part of that in whatever way I could.

“We don’t want your money.”

I stood and wiped my hands on my pants. “And fuck you very much, too.”

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