The Attack Zone (Slap Shot #2)

22. Mitch

CHAPTER 22

MITCH

TWO DAYS LATER

“ O uch,” I hiss against Stacey’s lips.

She lets out the most adorable giggle I’ve ever heard and says, “Sorry. I keep forgetting how fragile you are.”

“I am not fragile. My nose is bruised from being a valiant friend,” I say.

When I picked Stacey up to go to our meeting with a potential florist for Caleb and Cassie’s wedding, she didn’t seem annoyed with me for getting into a fight or turned off by my bruised face. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought she was a little into it based on how she kissed me when she got into my car. I sort of expected some holier-than-thou speech about controlling my anger, but that’s not what I got at all. Which is good, because my anger was controlled the whole time. I was just standing up for Thomas because the refs refused to do what was right. I won’t lie, though, after the depressed morning I’d had, it felt good .

But that doesn’t mean I expected her lips to instantly be on me the moment she opened the car door. Or her hands to be in my hair. Even now, as we’re parked outside of the florist’s office, she can’t seem to stop kissing me.

That is until there’s a knock on my window.

“You two love birds ready?” a young man asks as he stands outside of my car.

“Oh, shit,” Stacey whispers. She crawls back to her side of the car, cheeks bright red.

I grab my folder of wedding planning things from the center console and say, “Yep,” as I open the car door.

Stacey gets out of her side, cheeks still rosy. “We, uh ... I...um...” she stutters.

“I’m Mitch,” I say, reaching my hand out to the guy. “We’re Cassie and Caleb’s friends.”

“Oh, I see,” he says, shaking my hand. “Well, I’m Gabe.”

Stacey seems to be unable to speak, so I say, “And this is Stacey.”

“Hello,” Gabe says, reaching out his hand to her. “You must be the wedding planner.”

That seems to snap her out of whatever getting-caught-kissing-in-a-car-like-teenagers induced haze she was in. “Yes,” she says. “Well, we both are.”

Just like Angela, Gabe looks me up and down, completely gobsmacked by my existence. He’s a man in the wedding industry too, so I’m not sure what the holdup is other than how different we look.

“Great,” he says with hesitation. “Let’s get started.”

“I just think it’s important that we highlight the natural beauty of the venue. Caleb and Cassie aren’t over-the-top people,” I explain to Gabe. He’s shown us some examples of his work, and while they’re all beautiful, most of them aren’t Caleb and Cassie’s vibe. They’d suit Stacey and I better, come to think of it.

“I totally hear you,” he crosses the room and grabs another book. He sets it on the table and flips it open to reveal a beautiful, classic arrangement. “What about something like this?”

“That’s perfect,” Stacey says. She’s barely said anything this entire meeting, so I know we’ve finally hit the right tone when she’s able to get over her embarrassment from what happened earlier and speak up. On the bright side, at least Gabe knows I know my shit now.

“I agree,” I say. “This is exactly their style. With a few tweaks, it’ll be perfect in the reception space too.”

“Excellent. I think I have a good idea of what you all need, but feel free to send me more photos if anything comes up that you think I should see,” Gabe says.

“Thank you so much for your time. I’m ...” I pause. “We’re excited to work with you.”

“Yes,” Stacey says. “Thank you so much.” They shake hands and I can’t help but feel bad for the whiplash Gabe is going to experience when the real Stacey comes back to life and has a million questions and opinions.

“See you both soon,” he says with a wave as we both turn and leave his office. We get into the car and Stacey, once again, just sits there, staring off into space.

“Earth to Stacey,” I wave a hand in front of her face.

“What?” She looks at me, still dazed. “Oh, sorry.”

“Look,” I say. “I know you’re embarrassed, but Gabe really didn’t seem to mind.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” she says. But she doesn’t sound defensive, she sounds honest. “I was just thinking ...”

“About ...?” I ask as I start the car.

“Nothing important,” she says.

“Stacey ...” I start.

“Just that time you got photographed making out with a model at a bar and that Instagram account posted it,” she says quietly.

I let out a little chuckle as I turn onto the street. “Are you jealous?”

“What? No, that’s not it,” she says. Now she sounds defensive. “I just ... how do you handle being in the spotlight like that? I panicked when we got caught kissing in a car by one person.”

“I dunno,” I say. “It’s just how it’s always been. I guess I’m used to it. For the record, though, I didn’t make out with her—that’s just what they made it look like—and she wasn’t a model.”

“She looked like one,” Stacey mumbles, looking out the window.

“You sure you aren’t jealous?” I ask.

I can see her glaring at me out of the corner of my eye now. It’s adorable.

“Just a little?” I continue, a smirk forming on my lips. If you’d told me two weeks ago that Stacey Anderson would be jealous over something I didn’t even do, I would have thought you had completely lost your mind. But that’s exactly what’s happening, and I can’t help but want to revel in it a bit.

“Shut up,” she says under her breath.

I’ll take it.

“I’ll never bring it up again if you have lunch with me,” I say. Stacey might not want to admit that she’s jealous, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend more time with her.

“Now?” she asks.

“You have to eat, right?” I say.

“I was going to eat while I work,” she says.

“It’s a Sunday, love. Live a little,” I say.

“Fine,” she says. “I guess a little break wouldn’t hurt.”

I turn onto Colorado Boulevard and head north towards downtown, where we both live. We’re driving past one of the shelters my non-profit funds when Stacey gasps.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, slamming on my breaks.

“The sign says they have new puppies,” she says.

“Jesus. You scared the shit out of me,” I say. “And they always have new puppies, it’s an animal shelter. That sign is always there to attract new people.”

“Do you want to go in?” she asks.

Of course I do. I love animals more than most people. And since I can’t have a dog of my own, I love stopping in to snuggle the ones who need some extra love. But that’s always been a solo activity, no one knows about it. So why am I turning into the parking lot?

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to check in on things since we’re a major funder of this place,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “If you’re sure you have time?”

“I can make time,” Stacey says. “It’s basically a business trip.”

“Right,” I say. “Exactly.”