Page 36 of Marrying the Accidental Groom
“Put space between us.”
She looked up then, brows drawn tight, and for a moment, he could practically hear her mental filing cabinet flipping through possible deflections. “I don’t.”
“You do.” He kept his voice calm, steady. “Every time I get close, you back off. Create space.”
She didn’t answer right away. Just stared at him, the whisk paused in her hand. Her expression flickered between defensive and uncertain, like she wasn’t sure which one she wanted to wear.
He took a step forward. Then another. Until the distance between them dissolved.
“You’re in my space,” she said, her voice softer now.
“I know.” His chest brushed her shoulder. “But you’re in mine too. Here’s a spoiler alert: I don’t really mind you in my space.”
She swallowed hard and looked away.
“I like you here, Juliana.” His hand hovered just above her hip, not touching, but his fingers ached to feel her skin. “Even when you’re bossing me around and acting like cornbread stuffing is beneath you.”
“It was your suggestion,” she said with a hint of sass.
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t know it would drive you crazy.” He let himself smile. “You’re real cute when you’re flustered.”
She turned toward him, finally meeting his gaze. Her lips parted, but no words came out.
And Gideon couldn’t take it anymore.
Not the way she looked at him like she wasn’t sure whether to run or stay. Not the fire in her eyes or the flicker of something softer that kept slipping through when she thought he wasn’t watching. Not the weeks of tension or the nights he lay awake wondering what it would feel like to touch her without the buffer of both their shields.
Her fingers stilled on the countertop, and he caught the flicker of wariness in her eyes.
He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She didn’t flinch or pull away.
“I like you here,” he continued. “In my kitchen. In my day. I like that when I get home from the trail, you’re there waiting. I even like adjusting the garland half a dozen times so it is just right for you, and you finally give me that scrap of approval I’m desperate for.”
Her throat bobbed with a swallow. She didn’t speak, but her eyes didn’t leave his.
“I know you’ve got a plan for everything, Jules,” he said quietly. “But whatever it is we’re doing—I don’t want to miss it just because it didn’t come with a timeline and a checklist.”
She opened her mouth like she might argue, but still, no sound came out.
“I’m not asking you to make a decision,” he said. “Not yet. I just...” He stepped closer, so close now that her flannel brushed his chest. “I just want to kiss my wife.”
That broke whatever spell held her still. Her breath caught, and she whispered, “You really shouldn’t call me that.”
“Why not?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, searching her face. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
She hesitated a beat too long. Then nodded. Barely.
And that was enough. His wife.
He leaned in, slow and certain, watching her the whole time, giving her every chance to step back. But she didn’t. She stood her ground until his mouth met hers.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative. Testing.
Then her fingers curled into the hem of his shirt, anchoring herself.
She kissed him like she’d been holding her breath for days, maybe weeks, and only just remembered how to exhale. Like maybe she’d wanted this just as badly, just as often, and had fought it every time. Her lips moved against his with a desperation that curled something deep inside his chest, and when she pressed herself closer, there wasn’t a doubt left in his mind that this was real. Accidental had nothing to do with whether it was real.
One of his hands curled around her waist, the other lifting to cradle the back of her head. She made a sound—half breath, half sigh—that just about undid him. The scent of rosemary clung to her skin, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be gonein the morning, or if maybe this was the moment they’d stop pretending this didn’t mean something.
