Broken Love (Broken 4)

Her lips parted slightly as I reached down and picked her up. With a squeal, Ava laughed. “What are you doing?”

“Why were you outside, Ava?”

“W-what?”

“Why were you outside?”

Chewing on her lip, Ava whispered. “I was going to throw little pebbles at your window because I knew my father would be watching your door, and I can’t take waiting to be with you a second longer.”

My stomach felt like I was on a roller coaster as I stared into her eyes.

“What are you doing to me, Ava?”

Her eyes searched my face. “I could ask you the same thing.”

I quickly headed away from the house and toward the barn.

“We’re going to the barn? That doesn’t seem very romantic for our first time together, Ryder.”

“Just wait, Ava Moore. If you want romance, that’s what you’ll get, buttercup.”

DID HE JUST call me buttercup? Something about it made my insides melt.

Ryder walked past the barn and continued on walking away from the house. “Um … I don’t know how to tell you this, but you passed the barn.”

“We’re not going to the barn.”

“Are we gonna find a tree or something? That also doesn’t seem like a fun first time. I mean, call me old fashion, but I’d at least like to actually lay down when we make love.”

Ryder laughed. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much? Hush up before someone hears you.”

I glanced back at the fading lights of the house. “I’m pretty sure my dad can’t hear us this far out. Unless he has me bugged … which I wouldn’t be surprised.”

With another chuckle, Ryder shook his head. “We’re going to the original house.”

“The original house?” That’s when I saw the small stone structure. “What is this place?” I asked as Ryder walked up to the large wooden door.

As he set me down, I glanced back over my shoulder. I could barely see the barn in the distance. “I didn’t even know this little house was here!”

Ryder reached up and took a key down and opened the door. “You can’t really see it through the trees. My grandfather built this house for my grandmother as a wedding present.”

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.”