Fated: Myra and Ryan's Story (A Keeper of the Flame Novella)

by Lila Kane

  “I don’t want to forget about it.”

  Her mouth dropped open. What was that supposed to mean? “You–I don’t understand.”

  His smile looked both pained and amused. But he took a step closer. “I’m not sure I understand either.”

  Her skin felt like it was on fire, and this time it was her heart racing out of control. “We can keep this business-like. We can be professional. We don’t have to–”

  “I’m not thinking about business right now.”

  His eyes were hot on hers, but he kept his distance.

  She licked her lips. “What are you thinking about?” Please let it be the same thing she was. His body against hers–lips pressed over hers in a kiss that took her breath away.

  Ryan’s eyes flashed with amusement. “Something your brother would kill me for if he knew.”

  A thrill raced through her body, but her smile faded fast. “I’m confused. First you hate me and then you kiss me–”

  “Technically, you kissed me first.”

  Myra frowned and crossed her arms. She tuned out the low murmur of voices outside the kitchen. “Let’s just keep this professional. I’ll hire you and hopefully you’ll take the job and–”

  “I don’t think that’s what you want,” he said, stepping close enough his boots were touching hers.

  “I don’t want to play games. This job, this place–this life. It’s serious for me. I have a chance to do it right, healthy, free–and I don’t want to waste it.”

  Surprised flickered on his face. Then he nodded, as serious as her. “Of course. I’m sorry, you’re right.”

  Good. That settled it then. He understood and they’d keep it professional. Then why was she disappointed at his response?

  Before she could back up, he reached out, fingers brushing her cheek. His thumb skimmed her lower lip before he leaned in.

  Her lashes fluttered, eyelids drooping shut. It was slow and deep this time, with his scent swirling all around her and his strong hands making a lazy path down her neck, over her shoulders, and then sliding along her arms.

  “I have to get to work,” he murmured against her lips.

  She made a noise of disagreement.

  He chuckled. “I feel the same way. But it’s necessary.”

  Myra forced herself to step back, but allowed herself to ride that sweet wave of being kissed–being kissed by someone who knew how to kiss. She didn’t let herself analyze what it meant or where it would go. She wanted to live–and this…this was living. And she wanted more of it.

  “I have to go,” Ryan said again. “Are you going to be at Willow’s later?”

  “Not sure.”

  “Call me,” he said, brushing his thumb on her cheek. “We’ll talk business.” He smiled. “And other things.”

  He walked out of the kitchen and she stared after him. What had changed between yesterday and today?

  She shook her head. She wasn’t supposed to be analyzing this, just riding the wave.

  Myra smiled. So, she would.

  Ryan drove to Myra’s. She’d texted him earlier to say she’d be at home. He was equally grateful and tense. He wanted alone time with her, and her house would be empty except for them. But that also meant he had no distractions. It was either do this–make the decision to take this step–or back off.

  But Ryan couldn’t back off.

  He arrived at Myra’s house knowing this. He’d kissed her, and his body wouldn’t stop thrumming with the need for more. He’d touched her cheek and held her in his arms, and his heart had been snatched by hers. It was dangerous to get any closer but he couldn’t fight it. It was too painful–too wrong.

  So, he had to go for it.

  At Myra’s house, a few lights were on. He stepped out of his truck and paused beside it. Something was off. Something…

  His instincts were sharpening, but he’d ignored them so long, he wasn’t always sure what they were telling him. Probably that there was some animal out there. Probably that he should be careful or he’d end up shifting again when he least wanted it.

  But he’d held it off yesterday outside the hospital. He could probably do it again. Or if Willow could put the spell back in place, maybe he wouldn’t have to.

  What would that mean for him and Myra, then? Would his feelings vanish?

  He walked to the front door and lifted his hand to knock. He’d wanted those feelings to vanish all the way up until he found out she could get sick again. And then something in him snapped.

  He didn’t want to fight it–he wanted to be there for her. And he didn’t want the feelings to go away.

  Ryan rapped his knuckles on the door and shoved his hands in his pockets. It was strange being here, especially without Logan or Willow around.

  “Come in!” Myra called from inside.

  He stepped in, and was hit with the scent of cinnamon. Something warm. Something that reminded him of being a kid back when his mother was still around. She had always been baking something.

  Ryan followed the sound of soft footsteps and dishes clinking to the kitchen, and stopped when he found Myra barefoot and wearing an apron. She pulled a tray from the oven and flashed him a smile when he turned to set it on the island.

  “Hey.” She flashed him a bright smile. The sincerity behind it hit him in the gut. “I’m glad you came.”

  Man, it was that simple for her. No complex feelings, no hesitation. Just Myra. Easy. Honest. She said how she felt. So why couldn’t he do the same with her?

  He walked to the other side of the island to keep his distance. He needed to talk first, and being close to her wasn’t helping.

  “I’m deciding what to put on the menu.” Myra pulled off the oven mitts. “Too soon, I know, but I was excited. And Logan and Willow wanted some time alone, and I’m antsy, and–”

  “I get it,” he said. He was antsy, too.

  Her worried eyes lifted to his. “I don’t want her to meet with Kane. I don’t–”

  She broke off, shaking her head. And he couldn’t keep his distance anymore. He walked around the island and drew her close. Even being close was easy for her. She pressed her cheek against his chest and relaxed in his arms. No hesitation. No fear.

  He was the one scared of getting close to her.

  “We’ll be there,” Ryan assured her. “We’ll back her up–she’s got all of us behind her.”

  “I know.” Myra’s head moved in a nod, but she still stayed pressed against him. “I just feel like…she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me and Logan. She helped me–she healed me and now my brother wants her.”

  He smoothed his hand down her hair and breathed deep, catching the scent of strawberries and something else. Probably the cinnamon she was using. “It’s not your fault.”

  “We can’t let Kane do anything to her,” Myra said. She lifted her chin and her imploring blue eyes met his.

  Complete trust. What the hell was she doing to him?

  Before he could find the words to comfort her, she pulled away and started cutting a loaf of fragrant bread. “Really basic banana bread. That’ll be for mornings and afternoons at the bakery.”

  He nodded.

  In one smooth movement, she turned to the refrigerator and pulled out two beers. “Maybe not the best complement to banana bread, but better than wine right now. Have you eaten?”

  “Not yet.”

  Her eyes turned to his briefly. “No problem–I’ll whip something up in a minute. Here, taste this.”

  She lifted a piece of banana bread to his lips. Amused, he took a bite. It was still warm, crumbling in his mouth. Just the right amount of nuts and flavor and moistness.

  “It’s good. Really good.”

  She flashed a smile. “Good.” She turned for the counter again. “You should try–”

  “Wait.” He gripped her wrist and pulled her around to face him.

  “Ryan.” His name was soft on her lips.

  “You’re nervous.”

  She smi
led, but it wobbled a little. “Yeah, I am.”

  He gripped her waist and lifted her, settling her on the counter next to the stove while she let out a small yelp of surprise.

  “Sit here, drink your beer and relax,” he said. “I’ll make dinner.”

  Chapter 6

  Once she started on her second beer, she did feel more relaxed. It was Ryan, she was attracted to him. It didn’t have to be more complicated than that. But the way his eyes locked on hers made it complicated. She doubted he’d be here if all he wanted was mindless sex or someone to talk to.

  Not with a vampire. Not with her. So why was he here?

  Ryan cracked eggs into a bowl. “I make a decent omelet. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Perfect.”

  It had been a while since someone had cooked for her. Even longer since someone had wanted to.

  She took a quiet breath. “So, are we going to talk about this?”

  He glanced over. “Talk about what?”

  “Why you went from hating me one day to making me dinner the next.”

  He deliberately cracked another egg and said quietly, “I didn’t hate you.”

  “We’re enemies, isn’t that right? Isn’t that how it works here?”

  She didn’t miss how his shoulders tensed up. Or the way his jaw clenched. “I think we’ve gotten past that.”

  “Have we? I mean, you still can’t stand Logan. I don’t–” She stopped. What was she trying to say? She didn’t want some mindless fling either? That starting over was too important and she wanted to make everything count? Isn’t that the opposite of what she’d been thinking earlier today?

  Ryan took a swig of his beer, then set it on the counter next to her before stepping closer. He put his hands on either side of her.

  “I’m not an open book like you, Myra. So, you’ve got to understand it’s hard for me to explain to you where I’m coming from.”

  “I’m not an open book,” she complained, folding her arms.

  He smiled. “Yes, you are. You’re open and happy and say how you feel when you feel it and–no, don’t frown. It’s refreshing. It’s–it kind of makes me even more attracted to you.”

  Her heart picked up speed at the look in his eye. The heat and need. “So where are you coming from, then?”

  “I don’t hate you. I think you’re brave and loyal. You’d do anything to help Willow and to get this town back to where it should be. And that’s more than enough for me. But beyond that…there’s this…sort of spark. I can’t–”

  He shook his head, dropping his chin for a moment.

  “I feel it, too,” she said.

  “You do?”

  “What does it mean?” When the words seemed to hit too close to home for him, she straightened. “Ryan, what aren’t you telling me?”

  He didn’t answer. But when she tried to scoot off the counter, he blocked her path. “No, hold on. I have to take small steps. My parent’s kind of killed the whole idea of romance for me so I’m pretty shitty at it.”

  At that, Myra smiled. She wasn’t surprised to hear that Ryan had demons in his closet. She’d get him to open up eventually–she always did.

  “I’d say omelets are a good start,” she said. “And if you check out that building for me so I can put an offer on it soon, you’re golden.”

  He grinned. “Done and done.”

  When his lips met hers, she felt the spark again. It wasn’t just attraction, it was the hum of something deeper, something that bound them together. He set his hands on her knees, running his fingers up and down her thighs before he pulled her legs, inching her closer to him on the edge of the counter.

  She wound her arms around his neck and leaned into him, lips parting under his.

  “Myra,” he said, the word like a prayer on his lips.

  She answered with a soft sigh. His fingers glided into her hair, sliding all the way to the back before fisting there.

  “Are you okay with this?” Ryan asked her.

  She nodded. She was okay. With him, with them, with the idea and the follow through. This was what she wanted. She wasn’t sure how she knew–but it had never been like this with anyone else. Something was happening between them, and she couldn’t explain it but she couldn’t deny it.

  Her cell phone rang from the edge of the counter.

  Ryan groaned and eased back.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry.”

  She stretched a long arm to reach the phone and answered when she saw Cheyenne’s number. “What’s up?”

  “I feel…”

  Myra flicked a glance at Ryan. “What is it, Cheyenne?”

  Ryan’s hands tensed on her knees.

  Cheyenne sighed. “There are more of them here. More of Kane’s guys. More paranormals.”

  “They’re getting ready for tomorrow.” Myra swallowed, dread settling in her stomach. “You think we should do something? Get Willow or–”

  “I don’t think there’s much we can do. We can’t prepare ourselves for something we’re not sure about. We have no idea what Kane is going to do.”

  Myra licked her lips, nodding along to Cheyenne’s words while Ryan stared at her with concern. Cheyenne was right, they had no idea. And that worried Myra more than anything else.

  “Be careful,” Cheyenne said. “Especially when you go out. We should get to Willow’s early, too. Just in case.”

  “Okay. See you tomorrow.”

  “What is it?” Ryan asked the moment she ended the call.

  “Cheyenne said there are others here–other paranormals.”

  “She can feel it.” He looked toward the windows at the back of the kitchen, staring out into the darkness. “Does she know how many?”

  “She didn’t say. What? You think they’re out there?” Myra scooted off the edge of the counter, following his gaze. “Maybe we should–”

  “No.” Ryan caught Myra before she could head toward the door. “There’s nothing we can do about it right now.”

  “That’s what Cheyenne said.”

  Ryan settled his arms around her waist. “Great minds and all. I’d rather you not go out there anyway. It’s safer in here.”

  She lifted her chin, staring up at him with a smile. “I’m a vampire.”

  “You’re still human. You’re still…”

  His words faded away and she angled her head. “What?”

  To her surprise, he tightened his grip around her, pulling her close. “I want you safe.”

  The words touched her, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at him in wonder. He was trying to take care of her. She nodded. “Okay.”

  It must have been easier than he expected because she noticed his surprise. And then she saw his shoulders relax.

  “How do you feel?” he asked, brows drawn low over his eyes.

  “Better and better every day. I feel like…like I was never sick. I feel good.” She frowned. “Why are you making that face? What’s wrong?”

  “You’re not sick anymore. But if Willow puts the spell back into place–”

  “It’s fine. We’ll deal with it.” He didn’t look convinced. “How many times do I have to say this? We need to look at the bigger picture here.”

  “I am looking at the bigger picture. You being healthy is part of the bigger picture.”

  Myra tried to ease away, frustration flickering, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Ryan, you don’t understand.”

  “No, it’s you who doesn’t understand. I need–I need you to be healthy and safe. I need–”

  “What?” At the vulnerability on his face, she softened her voice. “Ryan, what do you need?”

  “You. Right now…” He sighed. “I just need you.”

  She framed his face in her hands. “Right now, you have me.”

  His mouth closed over hers, with a gentle urgency that stole her breath. His hands moved over every inch of her body, brushing, stroking, caressing like she might disappear at any moment.

  She slid her
hands under his shirt and connected with hard muscle, body toned and taken care of. She pushed the shirt up over his stomach and his chest before he yanked it off and dropped it on the floor.

  Her gaze strayed to the window again, wide panes of glass open for anyone to see. Ryan noticed and grabbed her around the waist. “Your room.”

  She led him down the dim hallway, her bare feet soft on the hard wood. Halfway there, Ryan caught the strings of her apron and yanked. The apron came open and she pulled it over her head, leaving it behind in the middle of the hallway.

  They reached the doorway to her bedroom and he caught her again from behind. He lowered his lips to her neck, tracing them down to her shoulder. His hand pressed flat on her stomach, pulling her hard against him so she could feel his arousal. A low sigh slid from her throat. It was almost pitch black and she was facing away from him, only able to feel his strong hands as they moved over her like water.

  His fingertips slid under her shirt, sliding up over her belly, then skimming underneath. He cupped her breast as his mouth continued to whisper kisses across her shoulder and neck.

  “Ryan,” she murmured. Her body thrummed with heat and want, all of her overcome with feeling.

  He spun her to face him and yanked off her shirt. Her hair fell back down, brushing over her bare shoulders and touching the top of her bra. He backed her against the door, body pressing hers to the surface.

  She trailed her fingers down his back, kneading his strong muscles, feeling every inch of him. Why had they waited so long to do this? It was right. All of it felt right.

  Ryan undid the button of her jeans and slid them down over her hips, following them the length of her legs until he was kneeling in front of her. She braced her hands on his shoulders as she stepped out of the pants. Goosebumps raced along the skin of her arms and legs. When he kissed the soft skin just above her panties, she sighed and slumped against the door.

  “You’re…really good at this,” she said, voice coming out soft.

  She thought she heard a chuckle, but she was far too lost in sensation. Maybe it was just that it had been so long, but she felt everything. Every touch, every kiss, every breath, and it all jolted her, melted her, aroused her.