Turn The Page (Kissed by A Muse Book 2)

by S. K Munt

  ‘Hanging on by a fucking thread…’ he whispered, touching her lips with his finger and making her shudder with need. His eyes were bright enough to blind her, and the heat emanating off his form told her that this wasn’t a line- he was literally as sweaty and impatient as she was.

  ‘Then don’t,’ she whispered, lifting her face to his. ‘Why delay what you…?’

  Ryan smiled, and Leigh forgot how to talk. ‘I just did four days worth of chores and reading and practice so that I’d have four days to focus on you.’ He wriggled his eyebrows. ‘And focus I shall, by the fire, in a few hours…’ he ran his finger over her chin, down her neck and then rested it against her collarbone. ‘And I think I’m going to start here…’ He lifted his eyes back to hers. ‘Has anyone ever told you that your pulse visibly throbs here when you’re excited?’

  Leigh shivered. ‘No,’ she whispered, deciding to have a go at torturing him right back. She had zero experience with men sexually, but as far as flirtations went, Leigh had read every trick in every book. She regarded him through lowered lashes. ‘Can you guess where else I’m throbbing though?’

  Ryan’s eyes darkened to navy blue. ‘Take off your clothes and let me act like an animal with you- or get in the fucking car so I can continue to be a gentleman. The choice is yours, Leigh, but the options are mine and I am not adverse to making a spanking one of them.’

  Leigh got in the car. After all, she’d read as many of THOSE books as she had romances, and she knew which she’d rather be in!

  She thought. But with a man that fine, who knew?

  *

  The trees were sold from a Lion’s hall, and Leigh breathed in the scent of pine needles so deeply that she was practically drunk on it by the time Ryan had located the tree he wanted; a five foot spruce that was shorter than a lot of the others, but thick and fluffy.

  ‘This is perfect,’ he said, fingering the needles with the hands she wanted on her- smiling with the lips she wanted against her own. He slid those egregious eyes until they locked on hers. ‘What do you think?’

  I think you’re a god and by the time I go home, my blog is going to be a bible dedicated to my worship of you…

  ‘It is perfect,’ she said, but her eyes drifted to a tiny, forlorn-looking tree by the edge of the row. It was separate to the others and appeared to be a potted tree, rather than a cut one. ‘But my heart goes out to that one… don’t you think it looks sort of sad?’

  Ryan followed her gaze. ‘Sad?’ He asked, before raising his brows at her. ‘Or dead?’

  ‘It’s not dead,’ Leigh scoffed, heading over to the tiny tree and kneeling to touch its leaves, which were spiky and turning brown. ‘It’s just cold.’

  Ryan crouched behind her, and tugged on her ponytail. ‘Do you want me to get this one instead?’ he asked. ‘Because if you’re going to cry…’

  Leigh rose to her feet and shook her head. ‘No,’ she said, then turned to him and offered him a weak smile, wishing she could take the tree home with her. ‘You’ve had a crap year Ryan- you and that house deserve a perfect, fluffy Christmas tree; one that you won’t break your back trying to tend to.’

  He rose like liquid and jogged his eyebrows at her. ‘You’d be surprised at how flexible I can be, in the name of tending to something so small and delicate…’

  Leigh shoved his chest playfully. ‘I’m small, but there’s nothing delicate about me, thank you very much!’

  ‘Once again, we’ll see…’ Ryan winked at her and turned away. ‘I’m going to go pay for the spruce and get the instructions- I don’t know if I’ve ever looked after a real tree before, but I don’t have the foggiest about how to now…’

  ‘Okay.’ Leigh hugged herself, glancing up at the sky, which was pitch black even though her pocket watch only said that it was six in the evening, and tried to convince herself that the distance between herself and Ryan wasn’t responsible for the sudden drop in temperature.

  Oh so it’s actually colder without him? At zero degrees? Oh Honey… you have it BAD!

  Leigh moaned softly to herself and glanced down at the unwanted pine tree, biting her lip and remembering the movie that had spoken about a person’s ability to keep a plant and a pet alive, and what that meant for them as far as relationships went. If she could keep one alive, was it impossible to believe that in time, Ryan would cease to be ‘cactus’ as far as relationship potential went? Inhaling a lungful of pine-scented faith, Leigh stooped and picked up the pot, deciding that Ryan needed a Christmas present as badly as she needed hope.

  And then he was laughing from behind her as his footsteps scratched across the gravelly lot. ‘Gah! You knew I was going to buy the damn thing for you, didn’t you? Boy, women who read sure are hard to catch off-guard!’

  Leigh turned around, her movement awkward due to the weight and shape of the potted tree, her numb fingers and the fact that she was wearing a dress and heels still. ‘You bought it for me?’ she asked, incredulous. ‘I was going to buy it for you!’

  Ryan grinned and took the plant from her. ‘Guess we’re thinking along the same lines, huh?’

  Leigh doubted that was possible, but the hope was buoyant within her lungs. She dusted her hands off on her dress and followed him. ‘What about the perfect tree?’

  Ryan glanced down at her. ‘I decided that I needed both.’

  Leigh smiled, but it was a weak one. Was she the imperfect tree and his dream Kylie the dream one? Ryan could keep her close and take care of her the way most people tried to, but she wanted to be the fantasy girl- not the charity case.

  After they left the lot, Ryan took her to a Taco Bell and they grabbed tacos to go, which Leigh kept at her feet. She kept glancing at the little, sick tree in the backseat and smiling- moved by the gesture, even though she had a feeling that the pine wasn’t going to make it in Ryan’s world once she was gone. But he was trying to try, and that meant a lot to her. In fact, she’d been so moved that she hadn’t stressed about the kiss she was waiting for since she’d left the house.

  ‘Leigh?’ Ryan suddenly asked, steering the car around a corner. ‘Can I admit something to you?’

  ‘If I said no, would you admit it anyway?’

  Ryan laughed and then suddenly, his hand left the gearshift and covered hers. ‘You’re… you’re more to me, than that girl I’m dying to make out with.’ He squeezed her hand, and she felt it in her chest. ‘I know you need to hear a lot more than that- stuff I can’t honestly say… but I don’t have many truths, you know? Nothing I really know for certain about myself… except for the fact that I love tacos, the smell of pine, the sound of the falls, music- and your smile.’

  Leigh’s chest folded in on herself and to her horror, tears sprang to her eyes. She couldn’t speak, but she looked down at Ryan’s hand on hers and found the strength to squeeze back.

  ‘I know… it’s lame and probably highly unoriginal, but I like you.’ He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her knuckles gently, almost making her eyes roll into the back of her head. ‘And I have this feeling that you’re supposed to be in my life, one way or another. I just hope…’ he cleared his throat and lowered her hand to the gearshift, but didn’t finish the sentence, merely shifted and stared pensively out the windscreen.

  But Leigh couldn’t take her eyes off the profile of the man she was falling in love with.

  Nineteen

  They ate their tacos at the kitchen bench, and then Ryan set up both trees; the spruce beside the television in front of one of the narrow windows, and the pine outside on the front porch. Ryan said that he wasn’t sure where Imogen kept her decorations, but he added that there would be time for that, and if Leigh wanted to go with him to buy new ones so that they could decorate the tree together, he’d make the time before she left.

  Before she left: those words made Leigh ache, and as Ryan went on about how he planned to get the fireplace fixed up and running before Christmas now that she’d inspired him to celebrate it with a heart
full of faith, the ache became a pounding throb. She’d never see the finished fireplace- she wouldn’t get to keep her pine, and she wouldn’t be opening presents with Ryan under that tree. Leigh had known since she’d booked the flights to America and back that leaving was going to be challenging, but she’d anticipated mourning a lifestyle, not a friend, but she’d made one and now, she only had four days left with him.

  Four days, I’ve known him only three, and I’m already this attached! How am I going to feel after four more days? How am I going to say good-bye to someone so incredible, knowing that there’s a chance that he’ll only miss me back until his memory returns?

  Ryan disappeared upstairs for ten minutes while she cleared their dinner trash away, and when he returned to her, he bowed and announced that she had the perfect bubble bath waiting upstairs for her; one in a claw-footed tub with candles, bubbles and just enough light to read by. Leigh had immediately begun to come over all self-conscious again, for she was nowhere near ready for a naked seduction, but when she made it upstairs with her bag of toiletries and her pyjamas, Ryan was nowhere to be seen and the bathroom looked every bit as idyllic as he’d promised.

  Leigh slipped into the water and submerged in the frothy, cotton candy scented bubbles, trying to soak up the warmth and chase away the chill developing within her chest.

  God, how am I going to leave this behind?

  Leigh rose from the water, squeezed the bubbles from her hair and tried to read, but her mind kept sliding images of Ryan before her gaze where the story ought to be forming, and when she heard the sound of her Bobby Goldsboro song playing from down the hall, her heart began to thump so hard that she was fairly sure that she’d stirred the water enough to double the quantity of bubbles. She mewled into her hands, trying to breathe, but she couldn’t enjoy the bath the way she wanted to- she missed Ryan, and she wanted to be near him. Maybe it was foolish to submit to his magnetism so readily- but he’d sworn to kiss her again and she wanted another kiss now! She needed it like she needed oxygen!

  Leigh got out of the bath, dried herself so quickly that when she dressed, was able to feel parts of her clothes clinging to her still damp skin. She didn’t have any sexy lingerie packed, but she didn’t want to be sexy- she wanted to be kissed and time was her issue, not style. She threw on her PJ’s from the night before with the sexy white thong he’d admired in her luggage earlier and practically raced out into the hall after having blown out the candles and pulled the plug from the drain.

  ‘Ryan?’ she called, pausing in the hallway outside the bathroom and frowning at the sight of the open door to the music room, which was dark and apparently unoccupied. She could still hear the music though, so she turned in the direction it was coming from and headed for his room, towelling madly at her hair so that it wouldn’t cling to her back like slimy wet snakes and give her a cold with one hand while clutching her book to her chest with the other.

  ‘… If only I could…’ Ryan’s velveteen voice made Leigh’s heart and steps falter as she approached his door, and when she saw the way the room was flashing from within- the light alive with movement, the air charred and smoky, Leigh’s desperate need for him had her feet tripping madly beneath her.

  ‘Ryan!’ she interrupted his song and he glanced up from the foot of the bed, shimmering like a mirage of perfection in the dancing shadows around him. The firelight made his dark hair and the black wood of his acoustic guitar shine as intensely as the orange flames made his tanned skin glow, but it was his eyes that ignited her- they were bluer than they’d ever been before, even though that shouldn’t be so without any white light to illuminate them.

  Ryan glanced up at her, and smiled. ‘That was a short bath…’ he put the guitar down on the bed beside him and got to his feet, pushing his wet hair off his freshly-shaven face before sauntering towards her. He was wearing only black pyjama bottoms, cinched dangerously low on his waist, and water was still beading across his shoulders, telling her that he’d showered and dried as clumsily as she had. ‘Was it too hot for you?’

  ‘No,’ Leigh whispered, stepping into the room and wrapping her arms around herself. She wanted to tell him that she was cold without him beside her, or that she was impatient when he was out of sight, and that there wasn’t a chance in hell of her relaxing when she had only four days with the man she was falling madly in love with, and didn’t want to waste a second more- but then Ryan walked past the fire, and the look in his eyes told her that she didn’t have to say a word for him to understand. Her heart thumped- was there really more to them, then what couldn’t be?

  ‘I missed you,’ he whispered, running his hands through his hair and cringing. ‘That’s weird, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Leigh managed to respond, wetting her lips and lowering her gaze to his mouth before dragging them back to his eyes. ‘But I like weird.’ She stepped into him, pressing her hands to his chest and when he sighed and lifted his face to the ceiling, Leigh lifted her face as well, following him with her eyes. She felt her mind tilt as sharply, common sense sliding down and out of sight, while lust occupied the space left vacant behind her eyes. She whispered: ‘and I like you,’ and Ryan closed his eyes as though she were causing him pain and distress

  Am I? Is the fact that it’s me touching him, not her, upsetting to him? Are his eyes closed because he’s trying to imagine me away?

  Leigh had no way of knowing without asking, and she couldn’t speak without breath, so she bit her lip and ran her hands down his abdomen slowly, humbled to discover that his muscles were as hard, silken and numerous as the shadows defining them had suggested. She’d never been with a man like him- she was fairly certain she’d never even glimpsed a man as beautiful as he was before, so the simple act of touching him felt like a reward bestowed upon her for having had the strength to hold out for magnificence for so long.

  He’s in my arms. Ryan Weaver stepped out of the pages and into my arms, and I’m so sick of trying to pretend that being with him isn’t a dream come true. And if it is a dream and can never be more- then let me stay asleep for as long as I possibly can...

  Leigh’s fingers tingled as they stroked his heated flesh. It was like being close to some precious art display- the sort that usually had to be shielded by a wall of transparent glass, and because she didn’t know if she’d ever cross paths with another human masterpiece again, panic and excitement made her bold. As she would have swum in the gorge if given the chance, despite the dangers, Leigh’s curious nature pleaded with her to press her lips against his scalding skin, and so she did. Ryan’s stomach vibrated with his soundless moan and she gulped in a breath and kissed him tentatively again near his diaphragm, her entire being flooding with warmth when his hands tightened on her hips. She lifted her face once more and saw his thick black lashes flutter open in tandem with hers. He was so beautiful that her throat was closing up in reverence.

  ‘You’re ruining me for every other man in the world, do you know that?’ she managed to croak out before her eyes glassed over warningly.

  Ryan’s chin lowered, and his face looked anguished as he lifted his hands and clutched at fistfuls of her wet hair, forcing her to stand taller. ‘And you’re…’ he wet his lips, then his gaze slid off hers and to the book in her hands. He swallowed. ‘Come here…’ he brought her down to a kneeling position. ‘Read with me for awhile, okay?’

  Read? Was he crazy? Leigh stared down at her book as Ryan pulled her down. He lay on his side, stretched across the mat like a cat at leisure and then patted the ground in front of his hips. Leigh’s legs gave in on reflex, not command, and she angled her bent legs beneath her so that she could rest the book on her knees. She opened it to the last page she’d read (five times in her distraction) and tried to make sense of the words but they blurred and danced. She glanced at Ryan and whispered: ‘I don’t think I can.’

  Ryan propped his jaw on his palm and gave her that smile again. ‘Why not? It’s what you do, isn’t it?’

  Le
igh lifted one brow. ‘And playing guitar is what you do.’ She reached behind him and lifted his guitar before resting it on the mat in front of him. ‘Play me something.’

  Ryan’s smile broadened. ‘I don’t think I can.’

  ‘Why not?’ Leigh cocked her head to the side and marvelled over the fact that she’d not glanced at the fireplace once yet for Ryan was too beautiful to look away from.

  Ryan reached up and tentatively ran a thick, damp strand of her hair between his fingers. ‘My fingers are shaking.’ Blue eyes burned into hers. ‘But if I try, will you sing with me?’

  ‘Fine.’ Leigh said softly. ‘Just not Honey, okay?’

  ‘Why not?’

  Leigh lifted her chin in a challenge. ‘Why’d you’d turn off that Lonesome October song?’

  Ryan’s eyes darkened, but he pushed her hair over her shoulder. ‘I don’t like it,’ he said simply. ‘It makes me sad.’

  ‘Do you think it’s a sense memory thing?’ Leigh asked, eager for as much information as she could glean from him. Getting to know Ryan was like trying to scrape cobwebs away from a tunnel- the passage was dark enough without him adding another layer of mystery into the mix. ‘Or do you just not like the band?’

  ‘I love the band. Well… I have all of Hunter Marks’ albums anyway...’

  ‘All forty of them?’ Leigh joked weakly.

  ‘Yeah. He’s incredible.’ Ryan’s fingers trailed down her shoulder, tickling the skin and making her shiver in a way that she felt in her breasts. ‘But that melody…’ he closed his eyes and leaned in, forcing Leigh to hold her breath until his lips landed on her skin. ‘It’s haunting. I tried to sing it once and choked up…’ his lips trailed further down her shoulder blade, making Leigh moan. ‘So maybe that’s why, huh? I get touchy enough over my own shit, without dealing with someone else’s baggage.’

  Leigh’s own eyes fell shut. ‘You’re kissing me…’ she whispered. ‘You don’t actually think I can make conversation now, let alone sing, do you?’