Page 129 of On the Line
The crowd gasped a moment later as the song changed to an instrumental version ofI’ll Beby Edwin McCain, and Berkley and her father stepped out onto the patio behind the cabin.
Berkley was a fucking vision. Her dress flattered her small frame, her blonde hair unbound and curled and cascading down her back, topped with a crown of flowers to match those in her bouquet.
Brent Jean was a lucky man.
But truthfully, Mitch only had eyes for Lexie. It wasn’t fair that she was so close, practically breathing the same air, yet he couldn’t reach out and touch her. Couldn’t brush his fingers over that impossibly smooth skin, followed by his lips. Couldn’t bunch her dress around her waist and run his hands all over her long legs. Couldn’t push her up against a wall and take her like he had that first time. Those brief moments when they’d walked down the aisle together were too much and not enough all at once.
Giving his head a shake, he cleared that image away and returned his attention to the ceremony unfolding in front of him.
Mitch couldn’t deny he had a good feeling about tonight. Lexie’s best friend was marrying the love of her life; the twinkling lights lining the ceiling of the giant white tent set up outside Brent’s family cabin, tables laden with flowers, drinks flowing the moment the marriage license was signed, set the perfect scene. Romance was in the air, and Mitch was going to use that to his advantage.
Berkley had done a wonderful job planning the wedding, every single tiny detail exquisite. Mitch was unsurprised that the color palette matched that of the Warriors’ jerseys. The arch her father had built was set up at the end of the dock and draped with navy and burgundy fabrics, adorned with large blooms in the same colors livened with greenery. Brent and his groomsmen, and Berkley and her bridesmaids would fan out on either side. The guests stood on the banks of the water some twenty feet away, watching as Brent and Berkley committed themselves to each other forever.
Coming back into their lives had been surprisingly easy, given how he left. Brent had been forced to spend time with Mitch at the rink anyway, considering he was now one of his coaches, and as he thawed toward his old friend, he made sure Berkley did too.
He had been honest with them, too: he was embarrassed about the trade and heartbroken over Lexie. When he left, he had been under the impression that his relationship was over. Lexie hadn’t left much room for interpretation in her final words to him.
So he told them how he felt the only way to survive had been to cut everyone off completely, and it hadn’t been easy to admit that, especially not after Berkley told him how cowardly it was.
We would’ve helped you through it, she’d said.
Lexie realized she fucked up pretty quickly, she’d said.
She would’ve given long distance a chance, but you didn’t bother to fight for her.
Mitch winced. So much wasted time.
He shook his head, dislodging the memories and the guilt over things he couldn’t change. Now was not the time to break open his old wounds.
Berkley reached Brent then, and her dad, Jay, extended his hand to shake Brent’s and give him a hug. Berkley stood on her tip-toes to kiss her dad’s cheek, then turned to grasp Brent’s hands while her father retreated to his seat.
From his vantage point, Mitch couldn’t see Jean’s face, but he was confident that the love and adoration shining from Berkley’s was mirrored there.
Mitch didn’t cry as a rule, but he’d be damned if seeing these two get married didn’t make him a little misty-eyed.
“Dearly beloved,” the officiant began. As Brent’s best man, Mitch’s one job was to keep the rings safe and hand them off at the right time, and he tried to pay attention. But wedding ceremonies weren’t exactly his idea of a good time; he preferred the party that came after. But soon, his gaze was drawn back to Lexie. She stood there in a wine-colored, floor-length dress with skinny spaghetti straps and swoops of fabric curving across her upper arms. The neckline hugged her breasts, dipping between them in a modest vee, like someone had cut the top of a heart off and sewed it onto the dress. It fit her tight through the waist before flaring out.
It was absolutely not the time, but Mitch couldn’t help picturing her, again, with the silky fabric bunched around her middle, those legs hooked around his back as he pumped in and out of her.
Would sex between them be the same as before? Would it be like coming home?
He had to find out. That was his only mission tonight.
That and getting her to admit that she still loved him.
But one thing at a time.
Someone cleared their throat, and Mitch tore his eyes away from Lexie to find Brent, hand outstretched, staring at him expectantly.
“Oh, right, the rings,” Mitch said, and the guests chuckled. He dug in his pocket and retrieved the velvet box, passing it to his friend, who opened it and removed the ring he would give to Berkley.
“With this ring…” Brent said, sliding the rose gold ring onto Berkley’s finger.
A sniffle undercut Brent’s words to Berkley, and Lexie once again captured Mitch’s attention. Honestly, he couldn’t be held responsible. He had always been drawn to her this way, like a magnet. It had been difficult to get her alone since he’d moved back to Michigan, and now they were stuck here, in this secluded, romantic-as-all-hell setting watching two of their very best friends promise themselves to each other.
And Lexie was crying. The Lexie that Mitch remembered didn’t cry. She was like him in that regard: generally stoic unless she was turned on, angry, or messing with him.
It seemed a lot had changed over the last year, and Mitch was dying to discover every new thing about her.
