Page 39 of Mitch

“Yeah, weddings are usually a lot in general. Just hours and hours of adjusting lighting and cropping out family members making weird faces and... This is probably boring the shit out of you.”

I shook my head. “No, not at all. I think it’s interesting. I mean, I get that talent only gets you so far. The rest is just hard work, right?”

Mitchell smirked. “It’s not work if it’s something you love.”

“No, it’s still work,” I said with a laugh. “But it’s alaborof love.”

Mitchell passed me the menu as he asked, “Did you always want to be a baker?”

I scanned the menu, my gaze settling on an appetizer platter full of hot wings, fried cheese sticks, and potato skins,and my mouth watered.

I shrugged as I set the menu down. The bartender came over, took our orders—my platter, Mitchell’s steak flatbread, and two cokes—just as Archie came in with the giant box.

“Hold on, let me?—”

“I got it, Penn!” Archie touted as he wobbled around the corner.

Mitchell reached out to steady him.

“Tell you what, you wait here for our food, and I’ll help Archie get this back to the kitchen, okay?” Mitchell offered, getting up from his stool.

I wanted to protest, but the look he shot me had my cock twitching and my ass frozen to the seat.

No one had ever looked at me likethat.

“Uh... okay...” I stuttered as Archie and Mitchell walked off.

“What the hell am I doing?” I asked myself out loud, when they were out of earshot. The bartender slid our cokes to me, his gaze judgmental.

I guess I’d be judgy of a guy sitting at the bar talking to himself too.

Everything felt so different.

I’d been out with Archie,and my ex-girlfriends plenty of times. It wasn’t like I didn’tknowhow to go outonce in a while, have a little fun.

But something about Mitchell felt different than it had with everyone else. I knew we were working, technically, but there was an ease about him, that I just wanted nothing more than to sit down, eat some junk food, and have a beer andlaugh.

When he returned, he smiled. “Good job holding the fort down,” he said with a wink.

“Please, all I did was watch the bartender pour the coke from the fountain.”

“The party should be arriving in like twenty, Archie said. So we’ve got more than enough time to eat and work.”

I scooted toward him, if only because I wanted to get closer to the bar.

“I kinda always knew I’d be a baker. My mom, she was always baking at home, letting me help her. When she opened the shop, I just knew it was where I’d end up. It was my home away from home.”

“That must have been amazing. Sharing the passion with someone elsewho gets it.”

“Your family doesn’t get photography?” I asked quizzically.

Mitchell laughed. “No, they do not. I mean, the hospitality and restaurant business is way different. I’m basically self-employed, so Iammy business. If I’m not chasing the clients, posting on all the channels, doing the thing and keeping my name in the forefront... then I’m not working.”

I guess I never really thought about how hard that would be, being as I’ve basically been brought up and raised to take over the family business. I could only imagine how scary it was tobeyour business. A one man show.

“Still, you’re like thetopphotographer in Jasper Springs. You’re practically small town famous.”

“Not as famous as Dawson Richards, Mr. March.” he joked.

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