Broken Love (Broken #4)(20)

The old wooden door creaked open as Ryder took my hand and led me into the darkness. The smell was familiar, and I couldn’t help but smile. “It smells like my grandparents’ attic,” I whispered.

Never letting go of my hand, Ryder walked over to a table where he opened a drawer and took something out. Hitting a match, he lit an oil lamp. The entire room filled with light as I sucked in a surprised breath.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

The room was probably the size of my living room and bedroom in my condo back in Austin. In the corner was a small kitchen area. A table that could seat two sat across from the kitchen. In the middle of the room was an old antique sofa that was flanked by two small tables that had oil lanterns on them as well. The sofa table that sat in front of the sofa looked fragile, but held a small bouquet of flowers along with a sketchpad.

“Who lives here?” I asked.

“No one really. I’ll sometimes stay here when I come to visit if I need some time to myself. It’s usually my mother who comes in here. She grew up in this little house and often spends time here.”

“Did she put these flowers here?”

Ryder walked up to the flowers and ran his fingers along one of the flowers.

“Yeah, she brings them for my sister, Kate.”

“Kate?” I quickly ran through his sisters’ names. I knew I had them right. Before I had a chance to ask, Ryder turned and looked at me.

“My sister Kate was the oldest. She loved this little house and always said it was going to be her house someday. Every day she would come after school and sit on the sofa and draw. She wanted to be a designer and would tell us how proud we would all be when her designs were on the runways of Paris.”

My heartbeat increased as I instantly felt a connection to Ryder’s sister. I was so afraid to ask the next question. “W-what happened to her?”

Dragging in a deep breath, he looked away. “She died the summer before her senior year of high school. She slipped coming down the stairs, hit her head and broke her neck. She died instantly. Her boyfriend was the one who found her.”

My hands covered my mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

Ryder smiled and nodded. “I didn’t bring you hear to tell you a sad story. I brought you here to start a new one.”

My chest fluttered. I was feeling so many different emotions. “A new one?”

His hand caressed my face softly as his thumb ran lightly over my skin. “Yeah, buttercup. Our story.”

I’d never in my life felt this way, and I was beginning to wonder if this was what love really felt like. There was no way I could possibly be in love with Ryder. There was no doubt there was something amazing between us, but I wasn’t ready to say it was love.

“You swooned me again,” I whispered.

Ryder’s lips moved lightly across mine as he softly spoke. “I’m starting to think this swooning thing is something good.”

A moan escaped from my mouth when his hand cupped my breast. “Very, very good thing.”

The warmth of his body was gone and I instantly missed it. Ryder lifted the oil lamp and held it up, lighting up more of the space. It was then I noticed it was two stories.

“There’s an upstairs?”

Ryder smiled. “Yeah, the bedrooms are up there. Only two.”

I walked around the small room and took everything in the best I could in the light and current state I was in … which was a complete mess. From the story about his sister, to his utterly beautiful job of sweeping me off my feet. My libido was begging for me to strip down in the middle of the tiny room and beg Ryder to take me.

“Oh Ryder, this is so charming. I’d love to see it during the day.”

His arms wrapped around my body as he nestled his face into my neck. “I can arrange for that. Only if you promise to spend the night with me here.”

With a smile, I lifted my hand and ran it through his soft hair. “You have no idea how happy you just made me.”

He spun me around and looked deeply into my eyes. “Let me make love to you.”

My lips pressed together as I fought to talk without my voice cracking. I’ve never had a guy romance me like this before. I’ve heard stories about things like this, mainly from my mother when she and her book club would talk about a book they just read and their current book boyfriends, as they called them. A few friends in college would share stories about how romantic their boyfriends were, but no one had ever treated me or talked to me like Ryder did. I thought I had found something different with Johnny, but I was so wrong. I never knew what falling in love was until I met Ryder. The way he made me feel was … magical.

“Please, Ryder. I can’t wait any longer. Please.”

With my hand in his, he led me up the narrow staircase. On each side there was a door. Ryder turned to the right and led me into a room that was just big enough to hold a full-size bed and two small nightstands. The only other thing in the room was a quilt rack that housed a few quilts on it.

“Everything is clean; my mother thought I might want to stay here.”

I nodded my head as I tore up the corner of my lip. What if I sucked? I mean, I thought I was pretty good in bed, but I never really thought to ask any of my past boyfriends how they rated me.

Ryder dropped my hand and walked over to a side table. Placing the oil lamp on it, he turned and looked at me.