Page 10 of Ronen (Sweet Alps Legacy #1)

Chapter Seven

Ronen

“Did you push me?” Mason accused, his amber eyes narrowed, as he lay sprawled at the bottom of the steps, practically upside down. His auburn head was nearly touching the sidewalk, his long legs splayed and resting on the steps above him.

“Of course not!” I huffed, annoyed he even had the audacity to suggest such a thing.

There was no way I would ever be able to explain to him that while I hadn’t been the one to push him down the steps, I knew who had.

Three someones, actually. They were all accessories to the deed regardless of which one of them had done the pushing.

The fact that those people were dead probably wouldn’t be very convincing to a jury.

Fucking meddling ghosts!

How was this even my life ?

I certainly couldn’t tell him that while I had been low key obsessing over his lips, and his smell, and the anger seething between us that had somehow morphed into…lust–there I said it–that my ghosts had been plotting how to get the two of us together.

Doing my level best to tune them out, something I was an expert at most days, since I very well couldn’t respond to their nonsense during normal working hours with patrons around, I had missed their scheming until it was too late.

It had taken me a full minute for the words do something , get them together , they need to just fuck it out already , and Florence Nightingale effect to permeate my lust muddled–and slightly sleep deprived thanks to more nightmares–brain.

Like ice water being dumped on my head, I surfaced from beneath the amber eyed trance I had fallen into. Just in time to see William, Gigi, and Miss Rose floating right out the door, following Mason. Gut churning, I just knew they were up to no good.

Pinning Emily– who was sitting in her usual spot on the back counter–with a demanding look, she just held up her hands and shrugged, a secretive smile on her lips that did nothing to ease the tension coiled within my body for what the wayward ghosts were about.

Hurrying around the long counter, I rushed across the lobby. Pushing the door open in time to see William raise his hands toward Mason’s back.

“Don’t you dare!” I shouted, watching as my grandfather gave Mason a hard shove.

How he was even able to become solid enough to actually touch the man–and not go right through him–was a mystery I would need to solve .

Mason tumbled down the steps, and I was helpless to do anything but watch his ungraceful descent, hands over my mouth in silent shock. Wincing when his arms and legs hit the concrete hard, his hat flying off and rolling down one step, his head flopping like a ragdoll.

“Well, fuck a damn duck,” I muttered, before turning an angry glare on the trio of spirits floating above the top step. “Why did you do that? Are you trying to kill him? What is wrong with all of you?!”

“Of course not,” Gigi crossed her arms over her ample chest, her bangles jangling in the crisp morning air. “But you two needed a push.”

“A push,” William laughed, agreeing, like it was some joke.

She winked at him, doing a small curtsey. “I do have splendid ideas. Nice push. Not too hard, but enough that you did a small amount of damage.”

“Oh dear, do you think he’s all right?” Miss Rose inquired, looking to be the only one slightly upset by her companion’s behavior.

“I think I heard a bone break. Nothing else sounds like that in the world. Nothing. I remember when my Walter broke his arm falling off the roof. Shouldn’t have been up there in the first place, I told him, but did he listen?

Nothing else sounds like a bone breaking. Oh, dear.”

“All right?” I nearly shouted, my voice rising hysterically with each word, not even caring if anyone happened to witness me yelling at the air.

“All right? Does he look all right? What is wrong with you people?” Turning to glare at Miss Rose, I pointed a finger in her direction.

“I expected better from you. Him,” waving a hand at William, I said, “not so much. ”

“It’s rather insulting, this opinion you have of me,” he told me, not looking one bit sorry about the man lying prone at the bottom of the stairs. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” I assured him, lowering my voice to a hiss. “Great, there’s a crowd gathering. Fucking fantastic. I’ll deal with you all later. Wait until I tell Grandma Mary what you did! Go find someone else to haunt.”

Rushing down to Mason, I shoved my way through the small crowd, only to have him accuse me of being the one to push him. Not that I could blame the man, it wasn’t a long leap to come to that conclusion.

Certainly made more sense than the actual truth.

Oh, no I didn’t shove you, it was a trio of matchmaking ghosts.

It would be better if I just took the blame, and moved on with our lives. At least the man wouldn’t think I was certifiable. Just homicidal. Yeah, that was better.

Mason tried to move, then groaned, holding himself still and gritting his teeth tightly together. Instinctively, I reached out, touching his shoulder. I had meant it to be a soothing gesture, offering comfort to someone in pain.

Instead of soothing, electricity crackled between us, the nerve endings running up my arm tingling almost to the point of pain.

Mason’s eyes flew open, and we stared at each other in surprise. The concrete beneath my knees where I knelt next to him wavered, shifted, slipped away. Replaced by…my entire life flashing before my eyes. Or my future?

Mason, me, the feeling of flying, the cold wind biting my flesh and my hair blowing wildly. Staring down into the eyes of an amber eyed baby with silky auburn hair .

The vision–or whatever it was–left me feeling shaky, breathless, unsure, and…surprisingly calm. Staring down into Mason’s shocked amber eyes, my soul whispered the words I wanted to hear but dreaded at the same time.

Mate. Fated mate.

Jerking my hand away, I fell back on my ass, trying to scoot as far away from Mason as I could get.

This man, this infuriating, sexy beyond belief man, couldn’t be my fated mate.

It had to have been a…a…

A what? My honey badger asked dryly. Your imagination? It wasn’t. He is. End of story. Best get on board with it. He’s ours and he’s yummy.

Nope, no, nada, not happening.

Oh, it’s happening. You, of all people, know better than anyone what this means. Look at our family. Full of fated mates.

This conversation is over.

Mason frowned when I pulled away from him, stretching his hand out to me in a weak attempt to keep me near him.

Ignoring it, him, all of it, I turned to Hank Anderson, one of Mason’s deputies. “Did you call an ambulance?”

He cocked his head, listening, and I could hear the distant wail of the sirens. “On its way. Did you see what happened?”

Shaking my head, I couldn’t keep my eyes from Mason’s strained and pale face. “No, I was inside behind the checkout counter. Maybe he tripped?”

“Pushed,” Mason sounded sure of that fact.

Hank gave me a questioning look, and I whispered, “There was no one behind him. ”

“Pushed me,” Mason started to raise his right arm, winced, and tried his left one. Pointing an accusing finger at me, he vehemently wheezed, “He pushed me.”

Straightening to my full height, I glared down at him. “I did not! Did you hit your head on the way down, because you are delulu right now.”

All thoughts of what that shock between us had meant fled, in the wake of his accusation.

“Del…huh?” He wrinkled his nose at me in confusion, and fuck it all, why did he look so adorable when he did it? His hair was all mussed, one dark red lock falling over one squinting amber eye. He was battered and bruised, possibly broken in some way, and yet he looked fucking adorable.

“Never mind,” I told him frowning, “I did not push you.” Turning to Hank, I pointed at the library behind me. “There were witnesses.”

“Ronen didn’t push him,” one of the patrons that had been inside spoke up.

Apparently, everyone had come outside to see what was happening, but I was thankful for it. “He was behind the counter and the Sheriff had already left. Well, they did seem to have some kind of confrontation prior to that, but Ronen didn’t push him.”

Narrowing my eyes at her, I rubbed at my brow. Really, that last part hadn’t been necessary for her to add. No one needed to know that Mason and I had been…clashing, while also eye fucking each other, and possibly–maybe–on the verge of kissing one another.

Hank seemed highly interested in that piece of information, as the ambulance pulled up to the curb and the EMT’s jumped out. “What kind of confrontation? ”

Shaking my head, I waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing. He’s always losing books. Or ruining them. He said his goat ate it. He’s always making excuses to annoy me.”

Talking too much , my honey badger warned me. He wasn’t wrong; I was giving too much information and would come across as not truthful.

“I mean, a goat ? Honestly. It’s the equivalent of my dog ate my homework only more over the top.” I laughed lightly.

Hank wrote something in his little notebook, that I wanted to rip right out of his hands and stomp on. Did the man seriously think I had pushed Mason down the steps?

“Well, Mason does have a few critters, and his goat was ready to give birth, so,” he gave a one shoulder shrug, “it’s possible.”

Opening my mouth–because there was a lot there I felt I needed to question–I clamped my jaw shut with an audible click. Nope. We were not going down the goat road, or the critter road. Whatever that even meant. No sir, not happening.

Instead, I turned my attention back to Mason, who was now stretched out on a backboard, a C-collar stabilizing his neck. The EMT’s had been busy while Hank had been scrutinizing me.

“Hank, can we do this later?” I muttered, “Better yet, not at all? I didn’t push him. He was just…clumsy. I don’t know what happened, but it was an accident, okay? I mean, we have insurance, so whatever damage he’s managed to do to himself, we’ll cover it.”