Page 12 of Ronen (Sweet Alps Legacy #1)
Chapter Eight
Mason
Blinking my eyes open, I groaned when I tried to move, the too small hospital gurney creaking beneath my bulk. The lights were still too bright in the E.R. cubicle, and I wondered what time it was and how long I had been here.
My head felt clearer than it had the last time I was awake, thankfully. The ambulance ride was a vague memory I mostly couldn’t recall. Hazy memories of being stripped, poked, prodded, and x-rayed started coming back to me, as I tried to find the remote for the bed so I could at least sit up.
It was that damn painkiller they had given me. My body was shit at metabolizing any kind of pain drug. Even ibuprofen sometimes made me loopy.
A hand grasped mine, startling me, and I met ice blue eyes. Jamie Sinclair located the remote and the whirling sound of the bed moving filled the air .
“Good?” he questioned, when I had settled myself more comfortably.
“You really need to stop sneaking up on people,” I said instead of answering his question.
He leaned against the wall, looking casual and relaxed, and slowly unwrapped a green hard candy before popping it into his mouth. “I walked in like a normal person.”
“Mmm,” was the only sound I made. We’d agree to disagree on that. Running a hand through my messy, slightly sweaty hair, I looked around the room, trying to locate a clock. “What time is it?”
I wanted to ask him why he was here, but I didn’t bother. I was in too much pain to play mind games with another Sinclair at the moment.
Jamie glanced over my head, and I guessed that was where the clock was located. Seemed like an odd place to put it, but what did I know? Regardless, the effort it would take for me to turn and look at it wasn’t worth it.
“Just after one. In the afternoon.”
Rolling my eyes, I straightened the scratchy blanket over my waist, noticing my ankle was propped up on something so that it was slightly elevated. It was still throbbing like a jackhammer, but at least my elbow and head felt marginally better. “I didn’t figure it was morning.”
Jamie shrugged one shoulder, stretching the leather of his black jacket across his wide shoulders. “You were pretty out of it, so I thought I’d clarify for you.”
Blowing out a breath, I mumbled, “I don’t do well with pain killers.”
“You don’t do well with song lyrics either or hitting any keys. Don’t give up your day job, Sheriff. ”
“Why are you here, Jamie?” Curiosity got the better of me and the question slipped out.
Honestly, why the man was suddenly turning up in my life, moving like a silent predator, was starting to wear on my nerves. The last thing I wanted to do while lying in a hospital bed was deal with Ronen’s dad.
Ronen.
Oh…fuck…my brain whirled with memories of the day, him touching me…electricity…the ground beneath me shifting that had nothing to do with falling ungracefully down the library steps.
Mate. Fated mate.
Ronen Sinclair was my fated mate.
Which in a way made a small amount of sense when I thought about it.
My attraction to him, even after the man had made it clear my very presence annoyed the fuck out of him.
Hell, I’d even started “losing” library books just so he would have to speak to me.
It hadn’t been a hardship to keep any of the books I liked, adding them to my hoard and paying for a replacement.
And I would admit to enjoying our little verbal sparring matches when I kept a book.
But now Ronen’s dad was in my cubicle in the E.R. and I had to wonder if Jamie somehow knew. Knew what his son and I were to each other. How could he, though?
Maybe because you announced it to everyone at the scene of your accident? My dragon questioned, his voice dripping with undisguised snark. Loudly. At the top of your lungs.
Oh Goddess! How embarrassing.
Pretty much .
Jamie smiled then, the gesture meant to display warmth but somehow coming across slightly menacing. For someone who was always smiling, he put off danger vibes in spades. “You and my son–”
The curtain opened, the steel track holders rattling loudly with the movement, and I silently thanked whoever had just saved me from the interrogation I knew was about to come.
An older female doctor, her brown and gray hair secured in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, stopped short when she saw Jamie doing his impression of holding the wall up. She glanced from him, to me, and back to him.
“I’d ask how you got back here, Jameson,” she said, fiddling with an I.V. line I hadn’t even noticed sticking into the back of my hand. “But I’m sure I don’t really want to know.”
Jamie tilted his head at her in greeting. “Hey, Meg, good to see you.”
“Always a pleasure,” she told him. “Tell your brother he owes me lunch.”
“Will do.”
She held her hand out to me, “Dr. Meg Farrell, nice to meet you, Sheriff.”
Since the needle was in my hand I needed to shake with, I gave her hand a half-hearted squeeze. “You too. What’s the damage?”
She glanced over at Jamie, then asked, “Are you okay with me speaking in front of Jamie?”
“If I say no, are you just going to look anyway?” I gave Jamie a questioning look.
Because I doubted me saying no was going to deter the man if he wanted to know something. He probably had ways to gather any information he wanted, some of them likely not legal .
Jamie grinned, but there was little warmth in the smile when you looked too closely. “That would be against the law, Sheriff, and I try my best to be a law abiding citizen.”
Looking away from his cold eyes, I sighed. “It’s fine.”
Why did it feel like Jamie was watching me like a shark circling prey with blood in the water?