16. Mitch
CHAPTER 16
MITCH
I pull my car into a parking spot at the potential wedding venue and try to keep my focus on Caleb and Cassie and not on how much I want Stacey again. The problem is, she’s right there, in a sweater that falls off her shoulder just so, and all I want is to dig my teeth into the area it’s left exposed on her neck while I rip her jeans off.
Logically, I know that she said it won’t happen again. But my dick didn’t get the message and it’s taking every ounce of self-control I have to not blurt out something stupid like I’ve never met anyone like you and all I want is to make you feel good.
That would be bad, I think.
Very, very bad.
So I bite my tongue and pop out of the car, eager to get my mind on head-counts and seating charts.
“Ready?” Stacey asks as we walk up the sidewalk to the ski-inspired lodge she’s picked out as our first venue option. It’s honestly pretty perfect from the outside, so I’m ready to see what we’re dealing with for the ceremony location and reception room.
“Yeah,” I say. “This place is great from out here.”
“The photos looked like it might be perfect for them,” she says.
I jog ahead a few feet to open the door for Stacey. She shockingly lets me without making a snide comment, and we both walk inside. We’re greeted by a middle-aged woman with silver hair who says, “I just love seeing young men being chivalrous to their brides in this day and age.”
“Oh, uh ...” I start.
“We’re not, uh ...” Stacey continues.
“We’re the wedding planners,” I somehow manage to say despite the idea of Stacey as my bride having just been placed in my head. I can’t decide how I feel about it, knowing that she’d never be my bride. Wow. I am getting way ahead of myself.
“You’re the ... the two of you?” the woman says, eyes bouncing between me and Stacey. I’m sure she’s thinking that it makes sense for Stacey but not for me. The thing is, I’m actually really good at this stuff, and I enjoy it. People always assume that I leave all the “girly” stuff to Stacey for my events, but I actually leave more of the analytical work of running the organization to her. The creative details, on the other hand, we’ve always done as a team.
“Yes,” says Stacey. “Mitch here is an excellent event planner, and I’m glad he’s letting me tag along.” Letting her ... tag along? God, I love when snarky Stacey comes out to play when it’s not against me. “Shall we get started?” She takes a step towards the woman and extends her hand. “I’m Stacey, by the way.”
“Of course,” the woman says, shaking Stacey’s hand, completely disarmed by Stacey’s seemingly polite disposition. “I’m Angela. My husband and I own the lodge. ”
“It’s beautiful,” I say, shaking her hand. “I’m excited to see if it will work with our creative vision.”
Angela is clearly completely bewildered by my comment as she turns to start the tour, and she remains bewildered by my entire existence throughout. As we’re nearing the end of her walking us around the venue, a young woman approaches us.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says. “Angela, could I steal you away for just a second? There’s an issue with the florist for the Newman wedding.”
“I’m so sorry,” Angela says. “Could you excuse me for a moment? You can go explore the grounds a bit more if you’d like. Just come back when you’re ready to discuss details.”
“No worries,” Stacey says. “We’ll go check out the woods to see what photo opportunities there might be here.”
“I’m sure you’ll see we have some excellent spots,” says Angela. “I’ll be in my office down the hall whenever you’re back. Please take your time.”
Stacey and I turn towards the double doors that lead to the rest of the grounds we haven’t seen yet.
“What do you think?” I ask once we’re out of earshot.
“I think you missed your calling,” Stacey says. “I realize you’re one of the best hockey players in the world, but, and it pains me to admit this, you’re good at this.”
I laugh as we walk over the frosted grass towards the path that leads into the woods.
“You’ve always known I’m good at this,” I say. “It just bugged you that I was before.”
“It still bugs me,” she laughs, taking a few steps in front of me. “This is my thing and you’re stealing it.”
I stop walking and take Stacey’s wrist in my hand, tugging her back towards me. “No one could steal this from you. There’s a reason I hired you, and it’s not just because I don’t have the time to do Rebounds for Rescues myself. You’re really good at what you do. ”
She looks up at me with the same fiery eyes she had when she walked over and cockblocked me last night. Admittedly, I wasn’t even remotely close to trying to sleep with that donor. But if Stacey’s jealousy got us last night, I’ll take it.
I run my hand up her arm and give her shoulder a squeeze, not wanting to let go of her just yet. “Should we go check out the woods?” I ask. I force myself to drop my hand but I don’t drop eye contact with her. She nods slowly, silently, like she’s not actually sure what she’s agreeing to.
I place my hand on her lower back and guide us towards the path. We walk into the trees and wander down the path, my hand refusing to leave her body as we do. But she doesn’t shrug it off, doesn’t make any snide comments. She just talks about what time of day makes the most sense to do photos based on the light here, and how to fit it into the schedule.
The path isn’t paved, so there are some bumps and branches here and there. It’s not a problem until all of a sudden Stacey is toppling forward, having tripped on the root of a tree, and shrieking. She’s about to face-plant into the ground, but I wrap my hand from her back around her waist and pull her up against me with ease. It’s not until I’m sure she’s okay that I realize my hand is down low on her bare belly, pulling her ass into me. Before I can think better of it, I wrap my other hand around her waist, letting it settle alone the waistband of her jeans. I feel her take a sharp inhale. I’m just trying to steady her, I tell myself. Just trying to keep her safe.
“You good?” I ask her.
“Yeah,” she says, breathless. “I’m good.”