Excitement thrummed through her as she knelt beside an ancient chest. “It’s a sea chest. Look at the rope handles.”
In the narrow space, Ryan moved to stand behind her. His movement seemed slower, stiffer as he nodded. “Let’s get it open.”
The lock was nothing like she’d ever seen before and fiddling with it, the thing didn’t seem to want to budge. “We need more light.”
Sucking in a deep breath, Ryan pulled his phone out and turned on the flashlight. Nicole noticed a fine bead of sweatforming on his temple and a look in his eyes that reminded her of a trapped animal.
“Are you all right?”
He sucked in another deep breath. “I’m not fond of tight spaces. Never have been. At least not since I accidentally got locked in a closet as a kid playing hide and seek with my brothers.” Using the keys from his pocket, he toyed with the lock some more. Shifting his weight, his shoulder bumped against her as his foot met the open door. The timber swung shut with a definitive, heavy thud. The sound of a rusted metal latch clicking into place echoed like a gunshot.
Nicole jumped, spinning around. She grabbed the iron ring that served as a handle and gave it a sharp tug. It didn’t budge. “It’s jammed. Or the latch dropped on the outside.”
Ryan went very still. He reached past her, his hand trembling slightly as he gripped the doorframe. He pulled, then shouldered the wood, but the thick oak was unyielding. “It’s a dead-latch. Only opens from the outside.”
“Ryan?” Nicole looked up at him. His face had gone pale, his breathing becoming shallow and rapid.
He stared at the walls as if they were physically moving closer. Didn’t answer. He leaned his forehead against the door, his fingers digging into the wood.
“Hey, look at me.” Nicole stepped into his personal space, her hands finding his forearms. They were rock hard with tension. “Let’s move closer to that little window.”
Across the small area, a round window intended mostly as a feature for the exterior than to shed light inside. Ryan lifted his gaze to the window, taking another deep breath. “This is not going to go well if I don’t find something else to focus on.”
“The window. Look at the window. Or,” she glanced around, “how about another chest. One that’s not locked.” She waited a second for Ryan to respond but he didn’t even blink. She had todo something. Anything to get his mind off the small space. “Call someone. I think Finn’s in the barn. They can open the door.”
That had Ryan blinking, but no movement at all.
“Ryan,” she repeated, her own nerves escalating exponentially.
He didn’t seem to hear her. His gaze was fixed on the door, his jaw set so tight it looked like it might snap.
Nicole reached up, her hands cupping his face. His skin was cold and slick. “Ryan, listen to my voice. Focus on me. Not the walls. Just me.”
He blinked, his focus finally shifting to her, but his deep blue eyes were still clouded with an irrational fear.
Nicole didn’t think. She didn’t weigh the consequences or that they were supposed to be looking for family secrets. She simply stood on her tiptoes, pulled his head down, and pressed her lips to his.
Ryan went rigid for a split second, his breath hitching in his throat. Then, the tension seemed to snap. He dropped his phone, the light bouncing off the ceiling. His arms wrapped around her waist with a desperate, grounding force. He didn’t pull away. Didn’t speak. She wasn’t even sure he was breathing, except that he leaned into the kiss, soft, sweet pressure growing in intensity, his fingertips swirling lazy circles against the small of her back.
Tendrils of heat and energy stretched to every cell in her body. Her arms already around his neck tightened, pulling them even closer together. All rational thought slipped away, except one; what had she just done?
Chapter Thirteen
The heat in the tiny room had shifted from stifling to electric, the air no longer feeling thin but heavy with a new, vibrating energy. Every cell in Ryan’s body seemed to have realigned, focusing entirely on the soft, steady pressure of Nicole’s lips against his. The panic that had been clawing at his throat only minutes ago had vanished, replaced by a grounded, solid warmth that had everything to do with the woman currently threading her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.
His arms were locked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. In the dark, with only the glow of his phone lying on the floor casting jagged shadows against the sloping ceiling, the rest of the world—the ranch, the family, the century of history—had ceased to exist.
A sharp, digital trill shattered the silence, the sound bouncing off the wooden walls like a physical blow. Ryan jerked, not wanting to pull away, not wanting to move, but someone needed to talk to him. On a heavy sigh he rested his forehead against Nicole’s for a long, shaky second, their ragged breathing the only other sound in the cramped space. The phone on the floor continued to ring, the vibration making it shimmy around the floor.
Taking a reluctant step back, his hands slid away from her waist as he moved to pick up the offensive apparatus stillbuzzing against the floorboards. Bending down with a grunt, Ryan scooped the phone off the floor. The caller ID flashed Quinn. He swiped the screen, the light momentarily blinding him. “Hello.”
“Where the heck are you?” Quinn’s voice boomed through the speaker, sounding far too loud for the small room. “Your truck is sitting in the drive and you’re nowhere to be found. Aunt Eileen is about to put out an APB.”
Ryan rubbed a hand over his face, trying to force his brain back into functional mode. “I’m in the attic. We got…” There was no way he was going to tell his brother that he’d been thoroughly and delightfully distracted by the most amazing kiss he’d ever shared. “Stuck.”
“Stuck? In the attic? Have you been drinking?”
“Of course not. It’s only…” He turned his wrist to glance at the time, shocked to realize they’d been up here for hours. No wonder Quinn sounded so annoyed.
