by Liv Rider
And Shaun.
“Seriously?” Mitchell’s heart sunk.
“I know,” Jake said, “but at least she won’t make you go down any slides again.”
Slides were the least of Mitchell’s worries.
He walked over with his grandmother, who complimented Emily and Dale on the ceremony, while Mitchell stood next to his parents. He eyed Shaun, who was more interested in his shoes.
“Shouldn’t Chris be here?” Emily’s mother asked.
“No, he’s, um…” Shaun gestured at the Inn. “He’s watching the cats. Inside.”
“We could have the cats in these pictures too,” the photographer suggested, excited at the prospect. “They were very well-behaved this morning. You two have to tell me your secret!”
“It’s fine.” Emily nodded at Shaun. “He’s right. Rumple and Stiltskin have had an exciting enough day already. They’re probably taking a nap in the pet carrier.”
Mitchell saw the look of gratitude Shaun shot Emily, even though their parents looked confused. It sounded reasonable, but he could tell Shaun and Emily were hiding something. Something to do with Chris? Or the cats?
Not that it was any of his business.
“Fair enough.” The photographer’s tone was cheerful. “Let’s do some portraits of the bride’s family first, then the groom, and then everyone together, all right? I know you all want to enjoy those cocktails.”
“How long do we have to wait?” Mitchell’s grandmother asked. “I could get us a couple.”
His grandfather perked up at that. “How about a beer?”
His parents started talking about getting something to drink too if they would have to wait.
“No one is getting any cocktails or beers,” Emily told them all sternly.
“Not before we do, anyway,” Dale added.
Mitchell had to laugh at his father’s surprised expression. He was sure no human had ever told him what he could or couldn’t do before.
“Yes! That.” Emily wrapped her arm around Dale’s. “Let’s get the pictures done so we can all enjoy a drink and a toast.”
Fortunately, the photographer was a lot quicker than she’d been this morning, taking pictures of each family with the lake as a beautiful backdrop. “Okay, how about some shots with our happy couple, the parents, and grandparents.” She gestured for Shaun and Mitchell to stand aside.
“Shaun, can you fix your tie before the rest of the pictures?” Emily’s mother told him, as he moved to stand a few yards behind the photographer. “I only just noticed.”
Shaun frowned at that, but his hands dutifully went to the knot of his tie, which needed a little straightening. “Like anyone will notice,” he muttered.
Mitchell’s hands were itching to help. “I think your mother will.” He clasped them behind his back instead.
“Is this better?”
Mitchell grimaced at the result. “I think you made it worse.” The knot was sloppy as it was, and Shaun’s own fiddling hadn’t helped. He stepped closer, already raising his hands when he froze and realized what he’d done. Shaun’s dark eyes widened as he looked up at Mitchell, but he didn’t back away. “Would you like my help?”
“Sure.” Shaun raised his chin and studiously looked over Mitchell’s shoulder at the tree behind him.
Mitchell’s eyes darted to Shaun’s mouth, so close and so tempting.
No, damn it, he had self-control. He had offered his help, and he would give it. Their family was right there.
He pulled Shaun’s tie up from under his jacket, carefully loosening the knot and trying not to touch Shaun’s jaw or neck while he did. His own heartbeat was speeding up. This close, Shaun’s scent was making it impossible to concentrate on anything but how good his mate smelled. How were you supposed to do a four-in-hand again?
A quick sideway glance told him that their families were more preoccupied with smiling at each other in a way that didn’t look as casual as the photographer hoped. “Maybe you should go for that beer to loosen up,” she told them.
They laughed at that, and Mitchell saw her taking some quick shots now that there weren’t any fake smiles.
He and Shaun would pose with Dale and Emily next, so he better hurry with Shaun’s tie.
When he looked at Shaun again, he caught his mate turning his head away quickly and looking flustered. A sense of smugness unfurled inside of him. Shaun wanted him. He edged closer, letting both ends of the tie slide between his fingers.
Ours. His dragon hissed.
No. Not theirs.
Mitchell steeled himself, focusing on the tie and making sure it was the best damn four-in-hand anyone had ever seen, his fingers grazing Shaun’s neck as he tried to make it quick. He’d been standing too close for too long already. He slid the knot up, adjusting and straightening it before making himself step back.
“There.” He hoped he didn’t sound as shaky as he felt.
Shaun swallowed, still looking flustered as he nodded. “Thanks.” He stepped back too, turning to look at their family.
Mitchell let out a long breath, trying to calm his frazzled nerves. He still felt hyper-aware of Shaun’s presence, but it wasn’t as bad anymore. He looked over at his parents, wondering if they or his grandparents had noticed anything. Hopefully, they only had eyes for the happy couple and trying to pose.
When the photographer told Mitchell and Shaun to join Dale and Emily, Mitchell wasn’t surprised that his grandmother was the first to say she was heading back inside. Emily’s mother lingered, smiling fondly when Shaun stood next to Emily, but her husband took her arm and led her back to the Inn.
“Ah yes, your tie looks so much better now,” Emily told him drily. “That would have really bugged me otherwise.”
Shaun let out a huff, glancing at Mitchell before looking at his sister again. “No, you’d be too busy noticing the grass stain on your dress, down at the hem.”
“What?” Emily gasped, looking down while Shaun laughed. “Shaun!” She smacked his shoulder with her bouquet.
“Careful, that still needs to look good for the photos,” Shaun protested, stepping away and laughing.
Mitchell tried not to laugh while Dale hung his head. “It’s a good thing Mom and Dad already went inside,” Mitchell told his brother. He heard the clicks of a camera and frowned at the photographer.
She shrugged. “What? I like the spontaneity.”
Emily had stopped glaring at Shaun and straightened her bouquet. “I will definitely need a cocktail after this.”
“You can have all the cocktails.” Dale wrapped his arm around her waist. “Well, some of them. Save one for me.”
Emily looked up at her husband. “Well, we are married, so I guess we’re supposed to share equally now.”
They smiled at each other, and Dale pressed a kiss against her forehead. Mitchell heard a furious series of clicks from the photographer, and he hoped his own smile looked fond and natural rather than jealous and wistful. He glanced over at Shaun, whose eyes were almost sad.
Disappointed he hadn’t asked Chris to be part of the photo shoot? And why wasn’t Chris here, anyway? Him needing to look after the cats had been an unconvincing lie.
“Okay, that was sweet,” the photographer told them. “Brothers, can you put your arms around your siblings? Let’s see some cheerful smiles. Just think of how good those drinks will be!”
Mitchell smiled at that, wrapping one arm around Dale’s shoulder as they posed. He wanted to keep a clear head, but some water or a soda sounded good after being out in the sun all afternoon.
“Is that it?” Dale clapped his hands. “Are we done? Wrapped?”
“I think that’s movies,” Emily said.
The photographer smiled at them. “We still need some shots of you with the Maid of Honor, Best Man, and the bridesmaids and groomsmen, but I was thinking we do those after dinner. I bet we’re gonna get some amazing colors once the sun sets. Unless you’d rather do some now?”
Emily no
dded. “Oh yeah, sunset sounds wonderful, and not just because I want a drink.” She looked at Dale. “What do you think?”
“Drinks,” he said decisively.
The photographer led the way, Shaun following her lead. Mitchell hung back a little to keep his distance and trailed after Emily and Dale. Dale glanced at him over his shoulder, then whispered something in Emily’s ear before joining Mitchell.
“Congratulations,” Mitchell told him. “Don’t think I said that yet.”
Dale grinned. “Thanks. I still can’t believe we’re really married now. We’ve been planning this for so long.” His eyes were on Emily as she hurried to catch up with her brother and the photographer.
“It was a wonderful ceremony. Even the cats.”
“Told you.” Dale elbowed him and grinned. “Anyway,” he continued, lowering his voice, “have you told Shaun about, y’know?”
“No.” He eyed Dale. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you two bringing up fated mates last night because you just had to tell him everything.”
Dale shrugged. “Thought we’d help. But you really didn’t tell him? It was the perfect opportunity, you idiot.”
“Perfect except for the fact he has a boyfriend,” Mitchell muttered. Why had Dale forgotten about that? Being fated mates didn’t make cheating suddenly acceptable.
“You need to tell him sooner or later. Might as well make it sooner.” He clapped Mitchell on the shoulder. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Mitchell sighed, remaining quiet. Of course his brother was wearing rose-tinted glasses. He’d just married his own fated mate, so now he wanted that same happiness for Mitchell.
They reached the Inn, and he watched Shaun head over to Chris, who was standing in a corner with a beer. They exchanged smiles, and Mitchell’s heart lurched.
He headed to the bar for some wine. Other wedding guests were outside, enjoying the weather, and that had to be better than being in the same room as Shaun. He wandered outside, finding his grandmother with one of his aunts. They briefly talked about the wedding. Mitchell tried not to wince when they mentioned how nice that young man with the cats had been, and how charming his boyfriend was.
His father joining them saved him from answering his grandmother’s question if he had anyone special in his life yet.
Although judging by his father’s serious expression, Mitchell wondered if it counted as a save.
“Mitchell, a word.” His father nodded at one of the picnic tables further away from the Inn.
He followed his father, suddenly feeling like a child about to get chastised for shifting without permission again. He couldn’t think of anything his father would want to talk to him about. He’d expected his father to be more occupied with Dale, Emily, and her parents.
His father still looked grave as he stood next to the table, looking out at the water. “Something is going on with you, and I’d like to know what it is.”
Mitchell was about to take a sip from his wine, but froze with the glass at his lips. “What makes you think so?” he hedged.
His father frowned at him. “You have been acting off all weekend. Everything about you. You’re not acting like yourself.”
He drank some wine, stalling for time. He should have seen it coming that one of his parents would notice, but he’d have expected his mother to bring it up, not his father. “Well, we haven’t seen each other in a while.”
“There is something you’re not telling me. Tell me what it is!”
He grimaced at that familiar, demanding tone. “It doesn’t concern you.”
“Is it about Lewiston? Your territory?”
“No, everything is fine there.” Katherine had sent him an update earlier that day. There were some minor matters he’d have to look into on Monday.
His father’s eyes narrowed, and Mitchell tried to meet his gaze calmly and not give anything away. “But you yourself are not fine.”
He took another sip of wine. His father had decades of experience reading people, and his sons in particular. “I will be fine.” Eventually.
His father let out an impatient huff. “You are my son. You owe me the truth. I demand to know what’s going on and—”
“I met my mate,” he snapped. His father’s mouth fell open, taken aback. Mitchell took some pleasure in that immense look of surprise. His father was used to being in control and knowing what was going on. “He’s already in a relationship with someone,” he added, before his father could recover and congratulate him.
“How did you—” his father spluttered. “When did you—who?”
Mitchell sighed. He might as well tell him the whole story. “It’s Shaun. Emily’s brother.”
“The one with the cats?”
When Mitchell nodded, his father looked thoughtful.
“Well, he wouldn’t have been my first choice for you, but I suppose you could do worse.”
Those calm words incensed him. “Shaun is wonderful. He’s the best thing to happen to me!” His father didn’t even know Shaun. What right did he have to judge him?
His father didn’t look impressed. “He really is your fated mate?”
“Yes.”
“You and Dale both finding your fated mate. What are the odds?” A brief smile crossed his father’s face. “But he has a boyfriend already?”
“Yes.” He knew what his father would say. He would tell Mitchell to go pursue Shaun as soon as possible without worrying about the boyfriend. Never mind what Shaun would want.
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
It was Mitchell’s turn to stand there with his mouth open in surprise. “What?”
“Well, it makes things difficult for you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but…” But why wasn’t his father telling him to take action? He put that aside for now. If his father was suddenly being sympathetic, he wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. “It’s not how I thought it would happen. I knew there might be obstacles, but I hadn’t counted on a boyfriend. There’s nothing I can do about that.” Look what had happened when he’d tried. “I think he feels something. He has to. But I can’t flirt with him. It’s not right. He’s got to make up his own mind.” He had to let Shaun come to his own conclusions about his relationship with Chris. He wouldn’t force a break-up.
His father considered it. “You may be right not to go after him now. If you are destined for each other, it will happen. Maybe not now, but in a month, or a year.”
It was the only thing he could cling to. “I know. It’s just—it will be agony knowing he’s out there and I won’t be able to see him or talk to him.”
His father scoffed at that. “Surely you can still talk to him? How else will you know when he’s broken things off?”
If the way he acted around Shaun this weekend was any indication, that was a terrible idea. “The less time I spend with him, the better.”
“He’s your mate.”
“Exactly.” Mitchell took another sip of wine, hoping his father would understand without having to be told explicitly.
“Hmm.” His father looked away again, a slight hint of embarrassment in his face. “I see. Right. You should do what you feel is best under the circumstances, but I don’t think it’s wise to pretend nothing has happened.”
Mitchell was reeling from hearing his father suggest he do what he felt was best.
“You said you think he feels something,” his father continued. “Won’t he want to see you again?”
Hopefully. “He should be the one to suggest that, not me.” It had to be Shaun’s choice. He didn’t want to push or force anything. He didn’t want to make Shaun more uncomfortable than he already had to be.
“Why not you? Someone has to take the first step, and it should be you.”
Mitchell shook his head. “I tried that. It didn’t end well.” He kept quiet despite his father’s inquiring look. There was no way he would tell his father about kissing Shaun. “It’s up to him now.”
“I didn’
t raise you to be a quitter. You’re a dragon shifter. Act like it.”
Ah, there it was. He’d heard those words before and was usually better at shaking them off. But it had been a strange, intense weekend, and the last thing he needed was his father telling him how to handle things with Shaun. “Excellent idea, I’ll just force my opinion on him, order him to break up with his boyfriend, and waltz over any objections he has. That’s a wonderful start to a relationship.”
“That’s not what I meant!” his father protested, his cheeks reddening.
“Isn’t it?” Part of him knew arguing with his father wouldn’t solve anything, and his dragon cringed inside of him. They should find common ground and a way forward instead of butting heads. He took a slow breath, then aimed for a more neutral tone. “What did you mean?” His father didn’t want a fight either.
“I mean that you cannot sit back and wait for him to take action. He’s not a shifter. He won’t feel the connection as strongly, and who knows, maybe when he’s back home his feelings for you will fade and he’ll forget about you.” His father sounded calmer as well.
Our mate would not forget us! His dragon felt worried, though.
“I’m not waiting.” He tried to ignore the concern settling in his stomach. “I’m just—I don’t want to push him into anything or make him do as I tell him. I don’t want to be…like that.”
His father’s mouth was a stiff line, and he was quiet for a long time. “You don’t want to be like me,” he eventually said quietly.
Mitchell didn’t nod. He didn’t have to. They’d had this argument before. “I want to handle it my way. Let me.”
His father sat down on the picnic bench, silent as he looked out at the lake.
Mitchell sat down next to him, not sure what else he could say. His father was usually quick to give his opinion, and not the type for long, thoughtful silences. Was something going on with him?
