Page 28 of Marrying the Accidental Groom
“Sure I do,” he said. “I planned to come into town today. I planned to pick up crampons. And I planned to ask if you wanted dinner.”
“That’s barely a plan. That’s a napkin sketch.”
“Better than a 36-tab Excel sheet of every restaurant in Colorado, color-coded by sodium content.”
That earned him a reluctant laugh. He watched her soften, just enough to let the tension ebb.
“I guess...” She exhaled. “We can try the gas station”
He held a hand to his chest. “My stars, she’s letting go.”
“I will still be reading the menu.”
“I expected nothing less.”
They crossed the street together, his stride easy, hers a little stiff. He didn’t push her to talk—not yet—but as they reached the gas station and stepped inside, he felt it. The weight she still carried. The internal storm she hadn’t quite calmed.
And part of him wanted to fix it.
But the wiser part knew some things weren’t his to fix.
They slid into one of three booths, the vinyl seats squeaking beneath them. The scent of curry and garlic clung to the air.
Juliana unfolded the paper menu. “This font is horrendous.”
“You’re doing great, sweetie,” he said with a chuckle.
She let the menu fall slightly, the corners fluttering against the table. Her voice dropped. “Do you really think it meant something?”
He looked up, surprised by the shift in tone. “What did?”
“The ceremony. Our vows.”
He stilled, the humor fading from his face. “Maybe it did.”
She didn’t look at him. “Even though we didn’t know we were making them?”
“Especially then,” he said, leaning forward, his voice steady. “Because we still said them. We stood there, we made promises even if we didn’t think they were legal. That has to count for something.”
Juliana’s throat moved with a silent swallow. “And what does that mean to you?”
“It means I don’t walk away just because it wasn’t planned,” he said. “Not until we figure out what this is. Together.”
Her eyes flicked to his, wary. “And what if I never figure it out?”
He smiled gently, not mocking, not pushy. Just sure. “Then we stay confused. Together. And we eat questionable diner food or gas station Indian curry if that’s what it takes to remind you that you’re allowed to live outside your itinerary.”
Her lips twitched. “That sounds like the worst motivational poster ever.”
Gideon leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint lighting up his eyes. “Want me to make it worse?”
Juliana arched a brow, cautiously intrigued. “I’m almost afraid to say yes.”
“Too late.” He cleared his throat dramatically and held up an invisible poster in front of him. “Let go and let lasagna.”
Juliana blinked. “That’s not even close to a thing.”
“Oh, but it should be. Picture it. Lasagna in the background, layers of cheese and noodles, sunbeams radiating off it like it’s been blessed by the Almighty. Cursive font. Maybe a kitten in the corner.”
