Page 4 of Ronen (Sweet Alps Legacy #1)

Chapter Three

Ronen

At one minute until nine, I slowly made my way to the front door, then waited with my hand on the lock.

Mason’s lips quirked into a thin smile showing no teeth, his amber eyes narrowed as we stared at each other through the glass.

Because I was shorter than him, I had to look up.

My alpha dad, Jamie, was six foot five, while my omega dad, Bash, was about five foot seven.

At five foot ten, I was considered tall for an omega.

Mason was at least the same height as my alpha dad, possibly even an inch taller.

When the hands on my watch were perfectly aligned at nine a.m., I flipped the lock while simultaneously flipping the closed sign to open.

Turning on the heel of my sensible loafers, I headed back to my sanctuary behind my counter. Tugging the cuffs of my crisp button down at my wrist, I made sure none of my ink was showing .

Not that anyone would have really cared about a little ink, but I had an image to maintain as the library director.

At only twenty-five, I was young for the position, and there were a few people in town who thought I only got the job because of my last name.

Because of that, I tried to always be put together and professional.

Besides, my ink wasn’t something I shared with just anyone, so I kept it under wraps until I decided to show it off.

“Good morning, Ronen,” Mason said cheerfully, placing his stack of books on the counter in front of me. “How are you this bright, beautiful winter morning?”

Tapping the placard next to the register, I repeated the same words I did every single morning. “It’s Mr. Sinclair. You may address me as such, Sheriff Caldwell.”

“Just seems weird to address you so formally, when I address your entire family by their first names. Not really a formal bunch, the Sinclairs, are they?”

Huffing, I was assaulted by the scent of his pheromones.

Musk, man, and something that smelled like fresh forest and pine.

For about the millionth time, I tried to ascertain what kind of shifter he was.

Again, I failed. No one seemed to know for certain what exactly Mason was, besides all agreeing he wasn’t fully human.

No one had ever seen him out and about in his shifted form, at least that we knew of.

Since my dad’s best friend had been the previous sheriff until he finally retired last year, I had tried to casually ask him once.

Becks had given me a small smile, then reminded me that he couldn’t share personal information that might have been in Mason’s personnel files.

Mason had been hired as a deputy six months before Becks had retired, but we all figured Becks had hand picked his replacement. And I had no doubt that Becks knew exactly what kind of shifter Mason was.

Sweet Alps was home to a large variety of shifters–and humans–and it was just weird to me that no one knew what Mason was. Okay, I wanted to know. There I said it. And I was going to find out some way.

“Regardless, I have not given you permission to address me by my given name.”

Fucking hell, even to my own ears I sounded like a righteous prick. If anyone from my family heard me talking like this, I’d never hear the end of it.

“Mmmm,” he tapped the placard that said R.S. Sinclair, Director , on it. “Let’s see what my guess is today for your middle name. I thought about this last night for a while.”

“I’ve no clue why on earth you would.” Sliding his return stack towards me, I began scanning them in.

“Because I love a good mystery,” he grinned. “Is it Soren?”

“Certainly not.”

“Would you tell me if it was.”

“Doubtful.” I ignored Emily’s clapping behind me. She got some kind of weird thrill out of Mason and my verbal sparring. “But it’s not.”

Why the man had gone on a mission to discover what the S stood for in my name, I would never understand.

But he’d been pestering me about it for months now. I’d already warned everyone in my family that if I found out anyone of them had told him what my middle name was, there would be hell to pay.

So far, not one of his guesses had been correct, so I could only assume they had taken me at my word .

“You tell me what kind of shifter you are, and I’ll tell you what the S stands for,” I countered, raising one brow in a challenge.

Mason laughed heartily from deep in his belly, but he didn’t divulge any of his secrets. Just made his way to the New Release shelves and started browsing. Since they were located to the left of the main door, I had an unobstructed view of his backside as he perused the titles.

“Bend down for mama,” Emily instructed, cooing. “You can do it. Show mama that luscious peach. There it is! I swear, you could bounce a quarter off that man’s ass.”

Rolling my eyes, I ignored her, instead concentrating on Mason’s open account on my computer screen.

“Makes you just want to take a bite out of it.”

A new female voice chimed in, and it took all I had in me to not groan out loud. Or turn around to glare at the newcomer. Even if I hadn’t recognized her voice, the tinkling of the many, many bangles that adorned her wrists, well for as long as I could remember, gave her identity away.

“My Walter, Goddess rest his soul wherever he may be, had an ass like that when we were younger.”

A third voice informed us, the clinking of her knitting needles clacking away. “It was the kind of ass you just grabbed a handful of and held on for the ride.” She sighed wistfully. “And what a ride it was.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed loudly. Mason looked over his shoulder at me, forehead knitted in concern.

“You okay?” he questioned, three new books in his hands.

“Perfectly fine, thank you.”

“You know it’s super-hot when you either sound British or like a prim Southern lady, don’t you? ”

“I’m sure I’ve no idea what you are on about. And my papa is British, so sometimes it just happens.”

Like when I had just said ‘on about’. Of course, he probably already knew my papa was British, so he was likely just trying to annoy me.

He thinks we're hot , my badger whispered, say something else super British. Don’t call him a wanker!

How did you know that was on the tip of my tongue?

“Oh, I’m aware,” Mason nodded, that infuriating grin of his lighting up his face. His amber eyes were nearly dancing with his merriment. “Sometimes I can even hear the slightest touch of an accent. Super sexy.”

“Please don’t sexually harass me in my workplace.” He slid the new books he wanted to check out across to me. “There are laws against that, as you should know. You have an overdue book.” I informed him, because of course he did.

Giving me a bland look, he tilted his head slightly, scraping his straight, white teeth over his plump bottom lip. “Do I? Huh? I could have sworn I turned them all in.”

“You didn’t.”

“Are you sure? Maybe check again.”

“I’m quite sure.”

“Which one is it?”

Consulting the computer again, without any emotion on my face, I informed him, “ The Cowboy’s Wild Omega .”

Ohhh, he likes cowboys too , my badger crowed gleefully.

Rubbing a hand over the nape of his neck, he looked sideways, then up at the ceiling, then back to me. “Uh, yeah…so…that one…”

Turning a stern eye on him, I raised my own dark brow, waiting for whatever story he had conjured up this morning .

“You’ve lost it, haven’t you?”

“Not exactly.”

Was that a blush pinking his high cheekbones? Honestly, no one should have cheekbones that high. It should be illegal. You could practically cut glass with those things.

“So, it’s at home?” I inquired.

“Ummm…yes?”

“Oh boy,” Emily muttered behind me, but I refused to even acknowledge I had heard her. “He made that a question, and that is never good.”

“This will be good,” Gigi whispered. “I wonder if we should conjure some popcorn.”

“Is the steam coming from Ro’s ears yet?” Miss Rose clacked away with her needles. “I only conjure popcorn when he’s super steamed. Not worth the energy it takes otherwise. You know that boy has the quickest fuse but it burns out fast.”

“Until it doesn’t,” Gigi added.

“Then just get out of the way, duck and run,” Emily chimed in, while I did my best to ignore all of them, and not let my annoyance at any of them–Mason included–show on my face.

“Why did that sound like a question?” I demanded, hands gripping the edge of the counter tightly and digging into the solid wood.

So much for keeping my annoyance under control.

“Either it’s at home and you can bring it later and pay the fines, or you’ve lost it. As you seem to do at a truly astonishing rate. Honestly, I should start adding the time I spend to process and order replacement books from you to your account. It’s confounding. ”

“I love when Ro gets all pissy!” Gigi crowed, her bracelets jangling. “Reminds me of Bash. No one did pissy as well as Bash, but Ro comes close.”

Honestly, I should get some kind of award for being able to not react to them. Though if I did, Mason would likely drag me right off to the psych ward and lock me up.

“It’s really quite adorable,” Miss Rose agreed, and I gritted my teeth to stop the sharp reply I had for them both. “Matty is Jamie made over, and Ronen is Bash.”

“Oh, Ro has plenty of that Sinclair blood in him, don’t you worry.” Gigi declared, sounding a bit proud. “He’s a good mixture of them both.”

I deserved an Oscar for keeping my face from not responding to them. An Emmy at the very least.

“Yeah, so…” Mason rubbed his neck again, his cheeks turning an even darker shade of pink.

“Is Mason blushing?” Emily whispered, “Ohhh, this should be good!”

“So?” I prodded, tapping a finger against the wood counter briskly.

“It might have fallen into my bath.”

I blinked. Hard. Then blinked once more for good measure. Then very slowly, I said, “It fell in your bath?”

His top teeth scraped across his bottom lip, and my eyes were drawn to the movement. What would he do if I nipped that lip when I kissed him? Would he like it? Would he moan in my ear?

Whoa, back that truck right the fuck up. No. Nope. Not happening. We weren’t going down that track .

Mason nodded his dark red head vigorously. “I tried to dry it out, but it’s all warped and you probably don’t want it back. I meant to tell you when it happened, and then I just–”

“You were reading in the bath, and you dropped the book?” I clarified.

“Anyone else wondering what he was doing in that bath when he dropped that book?” Gigi snickered.

“I can think of a few things,” Miss Rose snorted.

“Maybe we need to haunt the good sheriff, ladies,” Emily plotted, and I turned my head to glare at all three of them.

Thankfully, Mason probably thought I was just trying to gather my thoughts and my temper and not glaring at three meddling ghosts.

“Look,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper, even though we were the only ones in the library this morning. Besides, the three eavesdropping ghosts perched behind me. “It’s a rather…steamy book, okay.”

Turning slowly back to him, confusion was stamped across my face.

“What does that–never mind!” My voice rose an octave on the last two words.

Surely, he hadn’t been…pleasuring himself while reading in the tub? I would not think about that…I would not think about that…I would not think about that.

“I’m adding the replacement cost of the book to your account.”

“Do you want the book back?”

Was that a grin on his face? Why was he grinning at me like that?

And that mischievous gleam in his eyes? What was that about?

Surely, he could not realize where my mind had travelled to, or the in-living color images it had conjured up.

Of him. In the bath. Stroking his…nope, we were not going there!

“I do not! It’s yours now! Enjoy!” Sliding his newly checked out books across to him, I prayed he would take my cue and leave.

Mason snickered, tucking his new books under his arm and turning on his boots.

“Oh, believe me, I did. Super steamy. One of the steamiest books I’ve read in a long while.”