Page 50 of Marrying the Accidental Groom
Her chest pulled tight as he shared his dream. “It’s not dumb.”
He flicked her a glance, surprised at the conviction in her voice. She shrugged. “I like seeing you dream,” she said. She immediately wanted to take the words back because they were dangerously honest.
“Yeah?” His voice went low on the single word, like he was afraid to scare it off.
“Yeah.” Apparently, she was telling the truth today. “It suits you.”
A gust tugged at a strand of her hair and he reached to tame it, but stopped. She wished he hadn’t.
The urge to ask him about what his family had talked about at dinner was there, but she ignored it. Gideon would tell her in his own time.
They packed the gear together. He coiled lines while she folded fabric. A team like the barn dance, but with him in charge this time. It was a nice change, even though she had limited practice in surrendering control.
“Thank you,” she said as they slid the last of the wing into its bag. The words were simple and completely inadequate.
Gideon drummed a rhythm on the steering wheel and didn’t push to fill the quiet as he took the ATV up the same path they’d driven earlier.
She could’ve said a hundred things. That she was scared, that she was braver than she thought, that he made both of those truths feel okay. She could’ve told him how the way his arms around her in the air had felt so much like the thing she’d been praying for that she had almost cried into the wind.
Instead, she said, “For the record, this was not on my trip itinerary.”
He smiled sideways. “How about we start a new list?”
Juliana rolled her eyes. “Of what? More Things I Let a Reckless Man Talk Me Into?”
“Close,” he said. “Things That End Up Being Worth It.”
She looked up at the slope they’d launched from. Her heart did that hopeful thump it had been doing ever since a man with a ridiculous grin and a pocket dictionary mispronouncedthank youon an island two thousand miles away.
“Okay,” she said softly, mostly to herself. “Let’s see where that list goes.”
18
GIDEON
It was mid-December and downtown Redemption Ridge had gone full Faithmark, which normally Gideon found a little over-the-top, but tonight, it suited the woman next to him. Juliana’s cheeks were pink from the cold, her eyes reflecting the glow of the string lights that zigzagged between rooftops like some kind of European Christmas market. She walked beside him, gloved hands clasped in front of her, as the scent of cinnamon and pine drifted on the wind. It was like a Faithmark Christmas movie had thrown up. But, like...in a good way.
They passed a coffee shop, and a small group of tourists blocking the sidewalk caught their attention. A chorus of “Oh wow, it’s really him!” drifted through the air, followed by the flash of a phone camera.
Sure enough, Justin McKinnon stood smack in the center of it all, grinning like he hadn’t just wandered off a billboard.
“Well, look who the snow dragged in,” Gideon muttered.
Juliana squinted. “Is that the baseball guy . . . Justin something?”
“Yep. Local legend. I hear he’s retired now, but looks like he’s a magnet for sports-obsessed tourists.”
Justin caught sight of them and waved off the kids and middle-aged dads with a polite nod. “Gideon,” he said, shaking his hand. “Still wearing flannel like it’s a personality.”
“Still signing autographs like it’s a profession,” Gideon shot back, managing a small grin.
Justin laughed. “Not for long. I’m officially retired. Hanging up the cleats and moving home for good.”
“No kidding.” Gideon raised a brow. He'd heard the rumors, but to hear it directly from the source was another thing. “You sure about that? Ridge life moves a little slower than a stadium crowd.”
“Exactly the point.” He glanced around Main Street, as if letting it sink in. “Time to figure out who I am off the field.”
Gideon nodded. “Well . . . welcome home.”
