Page 83 of Ronen
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 hadcome 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 withgarlic. 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.”
