Page 51 of Marrying the Accidental Groom
“Thanks.”
One of the men nearby waved his phone in the air again. “Mr. McKinnon? Just one more?”
Justin chuckled. “Duty calls,” he said with a wink before turning back toward the waiting fans.
Gideon gave him a parting nod. “Later, McKinnon.”
He and Juliana kept walking, their boots crunching over fresh snow toward the line of sleighs near the town square. A few families waited nearby, bundled under wool blankets with paper cups of cider.
Looking at the scene ahead of him, he felt like a bit of a fool. Even after paragliding and the closeness they’d felt then, he felt unsure about where he stood with Jules. He knew how he felt, but there was so much more to consider.
Gideon helped her up into a sleigh, settling in beside her. Then, the driver clicked his tongue and the horses started forward.
Juliana tugged the blanket tighter around her, eyes scanning the twinkling lights strung between lampposts and the glowing reindeer display in front of the fire station. Her breath puffed white in the cold air, her profile soft and thoughtful in the moonlight.
The town glided past them—lights and garlands and smiling strangers. But Gideon felt the distance growing, inch by inch, between him and the woman beside him.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the way her voice had trembled when she talked to that guy from Harrison Hotels. Or the way she’d lit up when the barn dance went off without a hitch, like she was made for that kind of thing. Polished and professional. Not messy. Not flawed. Not stuck on a man who forgot to put gas in his truck at least twice a year.
As captivating as she’d been while gliding with him, the excitement in her eyes and the color in her cheeks, what if she didn’t belong here? What if she realized down the road that he couldn’t give her what she wanted? He’d only have himself to blame for holding her back.
So he stayed still.
Didn’t tease her about the blanket tucked up to her chin. Didn’t bump his knee against hers on purpose or make some joke to make her laugh. He just stared ahead at the lights and let the clop of hooves fill the silence.
He would let her talk first. Let her decide how close this ride would get.
He wanted her. But he wasn’t going to trap her. Not when she was finally starting to figure out who she was.
And not when he wasn’t sure he could be the kind of man she needed. She said she liked to hear him dream. But he wasn’t suddenly becoming some grand visionary. He still preferred to fly by the seat of his pants and say yes to as many opportunities as possible.
Gideon adjusted the borrowed blanket across Juliana’s lap as the sleigh curved around the edge of the town square, the rhythmic jingle of the horses’ harnesses filling the silence between them.
“This was a good idea,” she said quietly.
He glanced over. “Yeah?”
She nodded, still looking straight ahead. “It’s really peaceful. Kind of magical.”
The driver up front gave a little whistle, guiding the horses into a slower rhythm as they turned down the ridge road that overlooked the valley. Below them, the whole town sparkled with Christmas lights. It was beautiful. Perfect, even.
Which somehow made Gideon feel worse.
“I had a fight with my mom,” Juliana said suddenly, her voice more fragile than he was used to hearing. “On the phone. Yesterday.”
He looked at her then, trying to see what was behind the words she was saying. “I’m sorry.”
She gave a soft shrug. “It wasn’t a surprise. Just...a long time coming.”
Silence stretched for a moment before she spoke again, slower this time. “My parents divorced when I was ten. My mom remarried a year later. To a man who could—and I quote—stabilize our future. Which is rich, considering he spent most of my teen years cheating on her with his assistant and avoiding family events like they were contagious.”
Gideon winced. “That’s rough.”
Juliana let out a short breath. “Yeah. I learned early that commitment doesn’t mean the same thing to everyone. But for me...it’s everything. I latch on, maybe too tightly. Even when it’s falling apart. Even when I probably should’ve let go a long time ago.”
The words hit him square in the chest.
I should’ve let go a long time ago.
