Page 44 of Marrying the Accidental Groom
He’d given her flannel shirts to borrow, cider that tasted like a sugar crash in a cup, and a ridiculous number of reasons to smile. And somewhere between the ATV rides and awkward family dinners and kissing him beside a pan of soggy stuffing, she’d fallen in love.
His complete acceptance of her was a gift she treasured. It made her realize that he deserved a gift, too. Which was convenient since Christmas was coming up. Something real. Not just “I wandered through a holiday display and panicked.” Something that meant she’d been paying attention.
It wouldn’t be flashy or expensive. She’d done that kind of gift before. It always ended up in a closet or on a shelf in someone’s second home.
No, this had to be something that made sense forhim.
A custom leather sheath for his forever-misplaced pocketknife? A framed photo from Thanksgiving with his family? Or maybe something totally impractical, like a handmade map of Tealua with a little red X marking the spot where she’d married a man she barely knew and somehow stumbled into the best accident of her life.
She wasn’t sure yet. But she’d figure it out.
Because this wasn’t about impressing him. It wasn’t about crafting some perfect holiday moment. It was about choosing to stay, even if everything inside her still wanted a contingency plan and three backup exit strategies.
She wanted him to know he mattered. That she saw him. That even on the days when she wanted to strangle him with a strand of pre-lit garland, she was glad he was hers.
The only question was if he truly wanted her to be his in return.
16
GIDEON
Gideon told himself it was just dinner.
Thanksgiving two weeks ago had been one thing—everyone on their best behavior and distracted by football on the TV. But a regular family dinner? Connie’s casserole and Zeke’s subtle attempts to elevate the menu, a table full of Reynolds noise, and Juliana sitting at his side like that was the most normal thing in the world. No big deal.
His stomach didn’t believe him. It had been a knot since Mom’s text popped up an hour ago.6:00 sharp, bring Juliana, no excuses, Dad smoked a pork shoulder. He’d stared at it too long, thumb hovering, before sending back a thumbs-up and a joke about bringing earplugs. It wasn’t Juliana he was worried about. She’d already charmed half the county. It was everything the evening would stir up—his dad’s quiet scrutiny, Zeke’s steady questions, Cassie’s not-so-subtle curiosity.
He parked Ethel outside the big farmhouse and killed the engine. Connie had dressed the house with a wreath big enough to qualify as a second door and a line of lanterns along the steps. He climbed out, jogged around, and opened Juliana’s door from the outside.
“Chivalry?” she asked, amused, taking his hand.
“Ethel is big on manners,” he said, tugging her gently down. “You ready for this?”
She looked up at the sprawling house and nodded.
He almost saidwe can leave, before remembering how much she hated the option of retreat.
The front door opened before they reached it. Warm light and the scent of rosemary and garlic spilled out. So did his mom, wiping her hands on an apron that declared Gravy Is My Love Language in sparkling red letters.
“There you are!” she sang, sweeping Juliana into a hug that would have lifted a smaller woman clean off the ground. “You’re right on time. Zeke, pull the rolls! Cassie, where is Arlo’s pacifier—oh. In his mouth. Never mind.”
“Hi, Mom,” Gideon managed, laughing despite himself as he was drawn into his mom’s wake. There were lots of reasons Redemption Ridge Ranch had been successful as a tourist destination—and one of them was definitely his mother’s ability to make anyone feel welcome.
The kitchen was already crowded. Zeke stood at the stove, thick forearms braced as he whisked what looked to be a homemade barbecue sauce. Kaitlyn glided past with Juniper perched on a hip and a wooden spoon in her free hand, a quiet commander in leggings and a messy bun. Stetson hovered near the rolls like a small hawk. Cassie bounced a drowsy baby Arlo against her shoulder while Chance ran a toy truck up and down the cabinet doors.
Dad leaned against the far counter, eyebrows in their usual skeptical formation. His eyes flicked to Gideon, then to Juliana, and something like humor warmed the lines around them.
“Evening,” his dad said, which was Barry forI’m glad you’re here.
“Hey, Dad,” Gideon said, trying not to fidget.
“Hi, Mr. Reynolds,” Juliana added, poised but not stiff. Gideon watched his father take her in, nod once, and gesture to the dining room with the knife as if knighting her into the family chaos.
Connie clapped. “Hands washed, everyone. Stetson, set the table after you’re done. Brown plates for the adults, snowmen for the littles. And no one touch that salad—it’s for my Instagram story.”
Gideon caught Jules trying to stifle a laugh at his mother’s command.
“Mmm,” Zeke rumbled, tasting the barbecue and handing Gideon a spoon. “Tell me that’s not perfect.”
