Page 4 of Save a Horse

Axl and Beth make their way to the popcorn cart and my gaze returns to one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, wrapped in my best friend’s arms. He tucks her hair behind her ear and leans in to whisper something. Like clockwork, she falls for whatever line he’s trying on her. Watching them reminds me of reading a book I’ve already read, able to predict the next move.

Resting his forehead on hers.

Whispering compliments that make her blush.

Disappointment painting her features as he presses a kiss to her temple instead of her lips.

His hand possessively splayed on her lower back, keeping her body flush with his.

Then, he steps back and turns on the gentlemanly charm he’s known for.

Amy will think she found a good guy. While she’s not wrong, Mitch is a good man, he’s also predictable. She’ll be begging him to kiss her the rest of the night. When he finally gives her what she’s been craving, they’ll rush off to his place or hers. It will all feel like her idea.

I can’t watch the trainwreck a moment longer and take out my phone to text him.

I’m heading out. I’ll ask Greta to not help tomorrow if you can make sure someone is there in her place.

Maybe ask Amy?

Mitch doesn’t reach for his phone, completely focused on the ray of sunshine in front of him. He knows how important this weekend is, but my money is on him showing up tomorrow without Amy.

Amy

Iabsolutely adore small towns. Everyone in Coal’s Lake is so kind and…

Who am I kidding? As much as I love it during the holidays, I’d hate living here. Everyone is in their neighbour’s business, I have no idea where I would find clothes that fit properly, and people are too damn happy all of the time. Either they’re constantly on uppers, or it’s all a lie and they are a moment away from drinking whisky from the bottle while crying in a closet. No one isthishappy.

Except maybe Mitch.

At the bar, he seemed quiet and reserved. It’s as if a switch was flipped and he’s this sweet, possessive man who can’t take his hands off me. If it were any guy back home, I’d be faking a phone call to get out of this non-date; it would be so easy to fall hard for him, and I can’t afford the distraction right now.

There’s something about Mitch that draws me in and wraps me in a warm blanket of comfort. Which is also how moststalker romance books start—and murder mysteries. Mitch has introduced me to what must be at least a hundred different people. I’m confident I’ve met at least half the town since we arrived at the tree lighting. Murderers don’t typically do that, right?

A woman taps her microphone twice and announces that the tree lighting will begin in a minute. Mitch guides us off to the side where it’s less crowded and stands behind me. His large hand slips into my open jacket, splaying it on my stomach to keep my back flush with his chest. I’m a bit self-conscious since I’m not twenty anymore with flat abs and a fast metabolism. If I dare to consume carbs, I pay for it with an hour at the gym, and I’mstillsoft.

“Is this okay?” he whispers beside my ear, making my breath hitch. I reply with a nod, but still keep my abdominal muscles contracted. “You seem tense.”

Placing my hand over his, I crane my neck to look at him. I’m about to tell him I’m fine when the woman begins the countdown as if it’s New Year’s Eve. I’m lost in his eyes as the numbers are called out, each one sounding further and further away. His gaze drops to my lips at “three” and at “one” he closes the distance and kisses me.

When you’re on a first date, your goal is to get to know the person. I’ve only known Mitch for an hour, two at most, and am privy to absolutely nothing about him—where he works, what his hobbies are, where he grew up, his least favourite movie, if pineapple belongs on pizza… And I’m letting him kiss me?

Yes, yes, I am.

Mitch’s lips are full and soft, a stark contrast to his prickly five o’clock shadow tickling me. Cheers erupt around us, but neither of us break away. There’s a hint of cinnamon and apple lingering on his lips from the cider I decided against earlier, and I’m regretting not giving in to the sweet indulgence. He lightly licks the seam of my lips, demanding entry I willingly grant him. Fuck, I love kissing him, a little too much. A soft whimper escapes me as he deepens our kiss and I melt into him.

Someone’s throat clears beside us and Mitch chuckles against my lips, slowly pulling back. “Sorry, Aces, I got a little carried away.” He glances at the tree. “Damn, it’s already lit.”

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out his phone and opens the camera. He snaps a few photos of the tree, then clicks the icon for the front-facing camera and takes a couple of the two of us—one smiling, and one kissing my temple.

Mitch swipes the camera app away and opens his texts, tapping on a thread with Jasper. He does it so openly, not caring that I can see his entire conversation.

Jasper

I’m heading out. I’ll ask Greta to not help tomorrow, if you can make sure someone is there in her place.

Maybe ask Amy?

“What do you say? Want to help Jasper tomorrow?”

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