Page 82 of Ronen
“Here we go,” Quinn muttered, rolling his eyes at his mom’s dramatics.
Rolling my own eyes, I wandered back over to the open doors. Apparently the first time I had stood here with Becca had been one of the times my dads were around the side of the house. And, I hadn’t really been paying attention to the yard.
Because there was no way I could have missed this if I had been. Whatever this was.
Turning towards the room, I gave my nana a horrified look.
“Nana, why does it look like the Easter Bunny took a shit on the lawn? There has to be a hundred plastic eggs out there. Why? Just…why?”
“Easter egg hunt,” Logan declared gleefully, popping a sausage ball in his mouth.
Charlie crunched on some sliced cucumbers, dripping with homemade ranch dip. “There’s money in them. And candy. Not gonna lie; I’m good with getting either.”
“What in the actual fuck?” I shook my head. “No.”
Finn, Wade, and Sammi came in, hands loaded down with platters and bowls of piping hot food, Grandma Mary supervising behind them.
“Ronen, stop your fussing,” she ordered, somehow managing to emphasize the word with the thwack of her cane against the floor.
She had broken her hip two years ago, and had relied on the cane ever since, but it didn’t slow the woman down one bit.
“We–” she gave Nana Maeve an adoring look, “don’t know how many more Easters we have with you kids. And we miss when you were little and we had egg hunts. We’re making memories and I expect to not have attitude from any of you. You will participate, you will find eggs, you will be overjoyed with the gifts the Easter Bunny has put in your baskets, and you will shut your mouth and smile while you’re doing it. Is that understood or do I need to repeat it for the folks in the back?”
“Fine,” I huffed, then glared at Mason, when he declared, “I think it sounds like fun.”
Wade cackled, clapping his hands together, then waved a finger between the two of us.
“You two remind me of Finn and me, back in the day. Complete opposites, but I bet you burn the sheets up, huh?”
“Gross! Dad!” Logan yelled, looking horrified at his omega father.
Glancing at Mason, I whispered, “We can go now. Let’s just go.”
Tugging me down into an empty seat at the table, he grinned. “I’m having a blast.”
The next few minutes were filled with people passing bowls and platters around the table, and filling plates. Staring down at the large bowl, filled with my Uncle Finn’s delectable garlic mashed potatoes, I turned horrified eyes to Mason.
Setting the bowl down with a clatter, I grabbed Mason’s free hand, the one he wasn’t using to fork a mouthful of ham into his mouth.
He gave me a startled look, as I pushed my chair away from the table and declared, “I need to talk to Mason for a second. Alone.”
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.”
