Page 32 of The Attack Zone

“Right,” I say as if I’ll be able to focus on that. As if I’ll be able to focus on anything other than how to avoid wanting Mitch again when I’m in his presence.

CHAPTER 16

MITCH

Ipull 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 likeI’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 mybridehaving just been placed in my head. I can’t decide how I feel about it, knowing that she’d never bemybride. 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.”