Chapter Twelve #2
The transition was sharp. The modern plywood gave way to wide, hand-hewn oak planks that looked as though they belonged to a different century. Pushing the boxes aside with a little more energy, she tapped Ryan’s arm. “Look at this.”
Shifting his weight, he twisted to where she pointed. “Oh, this must be where the original house ends. This house has had multiple additions through the generations. I’ve always marveled at how seamless it all looks.”
“We should start with that.”
He nodded and with a little more gusto, they shoved the remaining boxes out of the way until there was nothing but original floorboards beneath their feet and a small, unassuming door in front of them.
“Oh, boy,” Ryan muttered.
“Would it be presumptuous of me to shout Eureka?”
Ryan’s smile made her want to smile. “We might want to wait and see what’s on the other side first.”
Pressing her palm against the wood, Nicole felt the absolute stillness of the original structure. “The craftsmanship is different here. You can see where the new frame was grafted onto the old.”
Ryan eased the heavy timber door open. As it swung inward it gave a long, mournful creak.
He held it open for Nicole to step inside first. The space was tiny, the ceiling sloping so sharply that even she had to duck.
It was crammed with items that hadn’t seen the sun in decades—sturdy wooden crates, a few leather-bound trunks with brass hardware, and a small, spinning wheel that looked to have been carved eons ago by hand.
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 sweat forming 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 to do 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?