Page 77 of Ronen
He still sounded like he was talking to a crazy person, but I tried not to get angry about it. I knew my revelation was a lot, and I was used to the reaction from people. Which is why I had learned to share it with as few people as possible.
“Or were you born with this ability?” Mason asked another question before I could answer the first one.
I shook my head. “I wasn’t born with the ability. It happened when I was seven. We were all ice skating, my cousins and me, and Matty was skating around, showing off. He was a teenager, built like our dad even then, and he slammed into me on accident. My head bounced off the ice hard, and I was knocked out long enough that my parents rushed me to the hospital. I came to with a mild concussion and the ability to see ghosts. We didn’t know it at the time though.”
“How did you find out?”
“When Gigi passed away a few months later,” I blinked at the sudden burn in my eyes. It still shouldn’t affect me the way it did. I was lucky and still got to see her, talk to her. “She was the first person I remember passing in my life, and it devastated me. I adored her so much.”
Swallowing hard, I took a sharp breath in, getting a grip on my emotions. “She was in her coffin, we were all sitting at the funeral, and something made me turn around. And there, in the back of the room, watching all of us, was Gigi. She waved at me, and I waved back, then I realized she was still in her coffin. Still gone.”
“What did you do?” Mason whispered, sounding fascinated by my story.
I snorted. “What any sensible child would do. I screamed my bloody head off in hysterics. No one knew what was wrong with me. I kept saying her name, but she had vanished. They all thought I was in shock, I think. I remember Papa yelling at Dad, saying I was too young to attend a funeral. Later that night, she showed up in my room, and we had a nice long chat. About death, and the afterlife, and that she wasn’t about to go into any light when she had grandbabies to watch over. She’s a character. My family knows, of course, once I convinced them I wasn’t crazy and could actually see ghosts,” I shrugged. “They’re just used to it now.”
“This is fascinating,” Mason said.
“You think it’s weird though,” I sighed. “It’s okay, you can say it.”
“It’s a little weird,” he nodded, “but I love you, and that means I love all of you. Even your…eccentricities.”
“Oh my gawed! Ronen!”Emily shrieked in my ear.“He loves you! He loves you!”
Ignoring her, because I was pretty sure Mason had probably hit his level of ghosts spying on us tonight, I stared at him in shock. “You love me?”
He gave me a soft look, brushing the hair back from myforehead.
“Yeah, I do. I know it’s probably too soon for me to say it, and you don’t have to say it back,” he told me hurriedly, “but I love you, Ronen.”
Leaning up, I whispered, “I love you too, Mason,” before my lips found his in a kiss that was better than any we had shared before.
It was a sweet kiss, gentle, not full of passion or desire, but one full of love.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ronen
April
“I feel underdressed,” Mason whispered, looking around the hallway of my grandmother’s five-story mansion, and peering into the large great room.
Giving him a once over, I assured him, “You look fine.”
And he did, in his dark jeans, boots, and a pale purple button-up shirt that looked amazing with his dark red hair.
“Just how rich is your family?”
He pushed his hand through his hair, disheveling it. “Because I thought our ranch house was big, but this place is…” he made a gesture to indicate his mind was blown, instead of finishing his sentence.
Reaching up to smooth his hair, I told him, “This house is ostentatious and extra. And you don’t ask people how much money they have. That’s just poor etiquette.”
He leaned down and brushed a quick kiss across my lips.
“Just let me know if you want me to stay home and be a house alpha,” he gave the furnishings in the hallway and the great room another once over, “because I totally will, honey.”
Slow blinking at the never before used endearment from him, I made a face like I smelled something bad.
“Honey? No. We are not doing cutesy little…whatever that was. No.”
