Page 39 of Ronen (Sweet Alps Legacy #1)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Mason

The fragrant, juicy piece of ham was almost to my mouth, when Ronen gripped my wrist hard, stopping the food from reaching its destination.

His green eyes looked panicked, as he pushed back from the table and announced, “I need to talk to Mason for a second. Alone.”

He tugged hard on my hand, and I quickly stood up, apologizing to the people at our table who were openly staring at us.

“Excuse me, us, both of us.”

We were almost out of the dining room, when a deep voice yelled, “No blow jobs in the bathroom! It’s a holiday!”

Ronen halted so fast it took all my thigh muscles bunching to not plow him over.

He slowly turned, eyes narrowed. “Really, Dad, who even does that? In grandma’s house. Gross. ”

There were a few cut-off snorts of laughter, along with some uncomfortable throat clearing, behind me. I wanted so badly to turn around and see who looked guilty, but I just stayed where I was, my eyes locked on Ronen.

“It might have happened before, is all I’m saying,” Jamie–I was pretty sure it was Jamie–said.

“Once or twice,” another deep voice piped in.

“We definitely did not have sex once in Brendan’s old room, and got busted afterwards,” another voice, this one light and cheery, announced with a giggle.

“Oh, my Goddess, Papa!” a female voice shrieked. “Ew! What is wrong with you? I did not need to know that!”

“Don’t even say one word,” someone warned someone else, and I was super curious if it was a child warning their parents, or a spouse warning their mate.

My money was on a child warning their parents, as the parents here seemed to be really open about sex and their exploits.

“Who, moi?” someone questioned, sounding smug. “But I mean, you totally know your dad and I have done–”

“Stop! My ears are bleeding! Charlie, are my ears bleeding?”

“Just clean up after yourselves, dear,” one of the grandmothers told us, and I felt my cheeks flame with heat.

Not that I was opposed if Ronen wanted to blow me in the bathroom, but honestly, I would prefer it if his entire family didn’t know about it and maybe wait until we were done with Easter dinner. Not smack dab in the middle of it.

The Sinclairs were a strange bunch. And that was not counting the whole ‘Ronen sees dead people’ thing.

Ronen quick-stepped down the hallway and pulled me into a bathroom across from the great room I had seen when we had come inside. Slamming the door firmly, he went an extra step and locked it.

Giving him an amused look, I asked, “Did you kidnap me from my food to give me a blow job?”

“It’s cute that you think you would be on the receiving end,” he smirked, hopping up onto the long vanity. Tugging at his belt, he pulled his waistband away from his skin. “Ugh, my pants are too tight, and I haven’t even eaten yet.”

Taking a seat on the closed toilet lid, because I wasn’t sure where else to sit, and this seemed like it was going to be a conversation that I needed to sit for, I sighed dramatically. “So, no blow job?”

Ronen groaned, “My dad is so embarrassing. No blow job. Stop talking about blow jobs. Don’t even think about a blow job right now.”

“Well, I wasn’t until your dad brought it up,” I admitted. “I was thinking about ham. And potatoes. Green beans, rolls. And Quinn’s fucking cookies. So, what’s the deal? Why did you drag me in here?”

“The mashed potatoes.” He declared, like that solved all my questions. Spoiler alert, it just made more pop into my head.

“Are they poison?” Because who knew with this group. Seemed like it was a fair guess.

Ronen stared at me hard, his brow furrowed with the cutest, tiniest lines on his forehead. “What? Of course not? Where did that thought even come from?”

“I don’t know. I was trying to eat my dinner, and then there were blow jobs, and mashed potatoes,” I spread my hands wide, “and here we are.”

“You’re so weird. ”

“Pot meet kettle. I’d venture to say I’m the least strange person here today. Except maybe for Becca. She seems okay. The rest of you?” One hand did a back and forth motion, “The jury is still out.”

“I can’t eat the mashed potatoes,” Ronen told me, “because they’ll know I’m pregnant. But if I don’t eat the mashed potatoes, then they will know something is definitely up.”

Cocking my head to the side like I was a Golden Retriever, I took a few seconds to let his words sink in. Nope, still made absolutely no sense. “I’m gonna need more information to understand any of that.”

“The mashed potatoes are loaded with garlic . It’s my Uncle Finn’s special recipe, and they are delicious. And I love them. I mean, these potatoes are…just give me the pan, leave me alone, and I’m happy. Everyone knows this.”

Finally, I understood the problem. If he ate the potatoes loaded with the Sinclair curse of garlic and pregnancy puking, he was afraid his family would put two and two together and get four.

“So, what do you want to do?”

Ronen lightly swung his legs against the cabinet. “I’m going to take some, but I want you to eat them.”

“Ummm….what?”

“You know, just slide your fork over to my plate every once in a while, when no one is looking. Trust me, once they all get to jabbering and stuffing their faces, no one will even notice what we’re doing.”

“Have you actually met your dad? That man sees fucking everything. He is going to notice. ”

“Mmmm,” Ronen hummed, tugging at his hair and making it even more unruly than usual. “It’s really Papa that people should worry about. Do you have a better solution?”

“Yes,” I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest, “we tell them you’re pregnant.”

He glared at me defiantly, saying nothing, and I threw my hands up in the air in defeat.

“Fine, fine. We won’t tell them yet. You’ll just push your mashed potatoes around your plate like a sulking five-year-old, and I’ll steal them and pretend like no one notices. Perfect plan.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, giving me one of his little half smiles that always stabbed me straight in my feelings.

“These had better be good potatoes,” I warned him, as I helped him slide down from the vanity. He didn’t need help, but it made me feel chivalrous, so I ignored his protest and did it anyway. “Since no one is getting a blow job out of all this ridiculousness.”

He hid his face in my shirt, rubbing his cheek against me. “I can’t believe he said that. Or that any of them did…whatever. I don’t want to think about them having sex. It’s just icky. And in my grandmother’s house.”

He sounded like a shocked Victorian era heroine.

“We have sex and it’s not icky.”

“We are not my parents,” he said, his voice taking on his clipped, prissy tone that I secretly loved. “Or my uncles. There are just some things that others don’t need to know about your life. Keep private things private. And my grandma! Just clean up after. What is that even?”

“She seems pretty cool.” Placing my arm around his shoulder, I unlocked the door and opened it .

To find his Nana Maeve standing outside it, wringing her hands, a troubled look in her green eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “I wanted to speak to my grandson alone, and it’s impossible to be alone in this house on a holiday. Or ever, now that the grandchildren have decided we can’t live alone. I love them, but they are a lot to deal with.”

“Nana?” Ronen’s voice was concerned, as he stepped away from me to take her hands in his. “What is it?”

Her eyes flicked to me, then back to him. “I just need to ask you something. In private. About your grandfather.”

Ronen’s body relaxed, and he gave her a genuine smile. Goddess, this man’s smile never failed to turn my bones to absolute goo. It literally made me go weak in the knees anytime I saw it. “He knows, Nana. We can speak in front of him.”

A brief moment of shock crossed her face, before her own smile lit up her eyes. “You told him? That’s good, Ro, that’s very good.”

“Let’s sit over here,” Ronen moved us to a padded bench along the wall, and they sat.

There wasn’t much room on it for more than two people, especially for someone my size. Taking a place behind Ronen, I placed my hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.

“What did you want to ask?” Ronen’s voice was soft, nearly a whisper, but he took his nana’s hands back in both of his.

Maeve looked hesitant, now that she had Ronen in front of her.

I hadn’t known Allan Rafferty while he was alive.

I had just been hired to replace Becks as sheriff shortly before Allan’s death.

I was aware, through the town’s never-ending grapevine, of the late in life, fated mate throuple between Mary Sinclair, and Maeve and Allan Rafferty .

In a wild twist of fate, the three hadn’t known they were even fated until after Maeve and Allan’s son, Quinn, had discovered he was fated to Mary’s son, Lachlan.

Mary had been a widow for over thirty years at the time, and Maeve and Allan had been mated and married for about the same amount of time.

Apparently, it had been quite the titillating scandal when it had happened, but twenty-five years later, it was just a tiny piece of gossip. One that people were still talking about, however, since it had reached my ears.

“Have you…” Maeve paused, her voice shaky. “Dammit, I promised myself and Mary I wasn’t going to ask you. But I just…I need to know.”

Ronen, as if sensing what his nana was going to ask, squeezed her hand lightly, but shook his head.

“He’s not here,” he told her quietly. “I’ve not seen him one time.”

His voice hitched on the last word, and I gave his shoulder another squeeze.

“Believe me, I looked. But as sad as that made me, I know he’s moved on and I’m happy for him. It means he had no unfinished business.”

Maeve nodded, her green eyes shimmering. “Thank you. That makes me feel…well, I’m glad I know.”

“I miss him too,” Ronen whispered, hugging Maeve to him in a tight squeeze. “He’s the one person I wish would haunt me.”

She gave a small laugh as they broke apart, and she dabbed at her eyes with a hanky.

Ronen went to say something, hesitated, then softly told her, “Gigi is still here though.”

Maeve’s eyes widened. “ She is? Still?”

Ronen nodded, giving her his crooked little grin. “Still a pain in the ass, still meddling in things she shouldn’t be. She and Miss Rose are both still here, thick as thieves as always, causing trouble.”

Maeve smiled wide, and she sniffed. “You know she adored you. I know that technically Rory and Patrick were her only blood,” she used air quotes around the last word, “but she thought of all you grandkids as her own. But you,” she cupped his cheek, “she just adored you so much. I think because you were the baby, even if Sammi is only a day older. Or maybe she just sensed something special in you. I’m not surprised at all that she is still here.

Though I wonder what her unfinished business could be. ”

They both stood, and I was loath to break up their moment by saying anything. Really, there was nothing I had to contribute, and I liked seeing this softer side of Ronen. He was all sharp edges most of the time, but every once in a while, there was this side of him.

“Oh,” Ronen told her, placing her arm through his, as we made our way back to the dining room. “I think she just likes being an absolute, meddling, pain in the ass. That’s her unfinished business. Nothing else. Just that.”

“Well,” Maeve commented, “maybe once all the grandkids find their mates, she’ll move on.”

“Are you kidding?” Ronen teased, “There’s about to be another generation for her to fuss and worry over. I don’t think the woman is ever going to leave.”

“You’re probably right,” Maeve agreed, as we entered the dining room.

Thankfully, no one took much notice of our return, just kept eating, talking and teasing .

A warm look passed between the two grandmothers, before they passed the look onto Ronen and me.

As I held his chair out for him, I leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Do you think they know?”

Ronen looked up at me and whispered, “Oh, they know. They definitely know.”

He scooped some potatoes onto his plate, and started eating, making sure to avoid the potatoes at all costs.