CHAPTER THREE
Mitch couldn’t seem to get out of his funk. He’d been to The Well a few times but barely looked at anyone there. He was present, but not entirely. His mind a million miles away for some reason.
“Mitch? Mitchell!” yelled Brooks.
“What? What the fuck do you want?” he growled. Brooks laughed at him, shaking his head.
“Listen, we have to meet up with the guys to do something for Mama Irene. But after that, do us all a favor and go get laid or something.”
“I don’t want to get fucking laid,” he frowned.
“Yes, you do. You just want it to be with your dream woman. I get it. I would want that as well. Just stop being such a dick to everyone.” Brooks walked away and Mitch just shook his head.
He met up with the guys and they were given their assignment.
“Explain to me again why we’re moving all this shit?” asked Mitchell.
“Because Mama Irene said it needed to be moved from the storage room at the clinic to the Sugar Lodge. It’s the last load. It’s just a bunch of old file cabinets and they want them placed in the attic space away from dampness.”
“Isn’t the attic damp?” Mitchell asked his brother.
“No. Grant put an HVAC system up there a few years ago. Now they can store anything up there and it’s safe.”
“Fine. But there has to be something else we can be busy doing afterwards,” he growled.
“Stop your fucking whining,” said Leif. “We all have to move this shit. No one is above the job.”
“I didn’t say that,” said Mitchell turning to face the other man. The toe of his boot caught at the corner of a file cabinet and he felt himself tumbling forward. Before he could catch himself, he slid along the corner of the cabinet.
Immediately Mitchell felt the sting of metal slicing into his forehead. When he landed, he heard the others cussing as he tried to regain his vision.
“Fuck! That hurt,” he yelled.
“Stay still, dumb ass,” said Leif. “Shit. Go get medical.”
Brooks took off down the hallway and Leif and Brix held Mitchell to the floor as he kept trying to get up.
“Stay still! Fuck me. You know head wounds bleed like a bitch and this is a good one,” said Brix.
“Wh-why is there so much blood,” he stammered.
“Mitch. Mitchell, stay with me you little shit. Don’t you dare pass out on me,” said Leif.
“My head hurts guys. It hurts really, really bad.”
“I know, brother. I know it does but I need you to stay awake. You slammed into the corner of the fucking cabinet. You’re gonna need a tetanus shot and definitely some stitches.”
“Damn, now I’ll never be pretty for the girls,” he said trying to laugh.
“Oh, I don’t know, you’re pretty cute even with blood,” said the sweetest, sexiest, smoothest voice he’d ever heard. “What happened?”
“We were moving the cabinets and he caught his toe and fell forward, hitting the cabinet head on at the corner. He’s bleeding like a fucking gunshot wound,” said Leif. She nodded, smiling.
“Yes, I can see that. Let’s get him on a gurney and to the ER. He’s going to need stitches, but we’ll want to get an x-ray as well.”
Mitchell kept trying to keep the blood from obscuring his vision but it wasn’t working. He looked up at the shadows above him but couldn’t make out where that voice was coming from.
“Who-who are you?” he asked.
“I’m new here. One of the ER docs. My name is Marnie.”
“Marnie. I like that,” he slurred. “Marnie?”
“Yes, Mitchell.”
“Marry me.” That was the last thing he remembered before passing out. He wasn’t even sure how long it had been but as he stirred, trying to see where he was, he heard that voice again.
“So, when is our wedding?” asked the woman in the white coat.
Mitchell stared at her and realized that this was the voice of his angel. He wasn’t sure what to say. He knew he’d said some strange things when he was passing out but he didn’t know he asked her to marry him.
“I-I…”
“Relax, handsome. I won’t hold you to it. Guys like you weren’t made for girls like me.”
He stared at her, wondering why she would say something so ridiculous.
“What does that mean? I’m not smart enough? I’m not young enough? You don’t like military guys? You’re in the wrong fucking place if that’s the case.”
She seemed stunned by his statement, her face turning an ashen color, then bright red. She grabbed the stool and sat down.
“Mitchell, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that at all. Surely, surely you see that I’m not the kind of woman that gets a man like you.”
“What kind of woman is that, Marnie? It is Marnie, right?” She nodded at him nibbling on her lip.
“If you’re being cruel, it’s not funny.”
“I’m not sure how I’m being cruel. Answer my question. Please.” The please made her reconsider walking out of the room. She slowly stood, pushing the stool back with one foot.
“I know all your stats,” she said calmly, quietly. “Six-four and one-quarter. Two-hundred-and-twenty-two pounds. Retired Navy SEAL. Triplet. Blonde, although I would call it strawberry blonde. Blue eyed. Thirty-four.”
“Good. I already knew that,” he smirked.
“Look at me, Mitchell. I don’t find this funny. I’m five-ten, one-hundred and eighty pounds. I have brown eyes. Brown hair. Average. Average. I’m nothing special and I’m definitely not the sort of woman that SEALs date.”
He stared at her and then wiggled his finger for her to come closer. She took two steps forward and stopped. He wiggled his finger again and she moved forward. When she was directly in front of him, he pulled her across his body on the gurney, gripping her hair in his hands.
“You are exactly the sort that this SEAL would date.”