Page 5 of Marrying the Accidental Groom
“Just to the—” He glanced back at her, realizing he didn’t know where she was headed. “Which resort are you staying at?”
She hesitated, almost as if she didn’t want to tell him. He held his casual smile steady.
“Tealua Haven Resort,” she finally provided.
“What a coincidence,” he said with a smirk.
“Two tickets to Tealua Haven,” he relayed to the produce truck driver. “The shuttle’s late, and I promised her an unforgettable welcome.” Gideon turned to flash her a grin, knowing full well she was standing six feet away, stiff as a board and clearly regretting her life choices.
The driver looked between them. “You don’t look like you work for the resort.”
“I don’t.” Gideon leaned an elbow on the edge of the truck bed like it was all perfectly normal. “But I do tip in U.S. dollars.”
The guy snorted. “Fine. Hop in. Don’t sue me if you fall out.”
Gideon turned to her. “Well? The shuttle’s still MIA. This is your chance to add ‘rogue produce transport’ to your honeymoon itinerary.”
Her arms crossed. “I don’t even know your name.”
He grinned. “All the best stories start out that way.”
She glanced at the truck, then at her watch, then back at him. “There are no seat belts.”
“There are pineapples.Veryabsorbent in a crash.”
For a second, she looked like she might turn on her heel and retreat to the safety of her itinerary. Gideon wasn’t sure why he hated the idea so much. But then her mouth twitched—just enough to betray the tiniest spark of reluctant amusement. She exhaled slowly, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was about to do. “If I die, my mother will hate you.”
“I won’t let that happen,” he reassured her, dropping his carefree grin for a moment and letting the sincerity of his promise shine through his expression.
He offered a hand. She didn’t take it, but she climbed in anyway, clutching the hem of her blouse as she perched delicately on a crate. Gideon lifted her suitcases in and jumped up beside her, giving the driver a thumbs-up.
As the truck jolted forward, she braced herself, knuckles white against the wooden slats.
“You’re insane,” she muttered.
Gideon leaned back and grinned at the blue sky overhead. “Yeah. But for the next ten minutes, so are you.”
As they picked up speed along the coastal road, the breeze finally caught her tightly pinned light-brown hair. A strand escaped, dancing across her cheek. She didn’t swat it away. His fingers itched with the desire to reach up and tuck it behind her ear. But he also liked the small sign that she wasn’t so perfectly put together anymore.
It made her seem more real. Less untouchable. Like maybe underneath the schedule and the sharp edges, there was someone who used to laugh easily. For some reason, he wanted to be the one to make her remember how.
She caught him watching and lifted her chin, the barest hint of challenge in her expression—like she knew exactly what he was thinking but wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.
He watched her squint toward the ocean, her fingers gripping the sides of the crate.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
She hesitated just long enough to make him wonder if she’d lie.
“Juliana.”
“Gideon,” he said, sticking out a hand, even though they were both holding on for dear life.
She looked at his hand, then shook it. “You’re insane, Gideon,” she said again.
“Maybe,” he said, grinning. “But you’re still in the truck.”
3
