Page 63 of Marrying the Accidental Groom
The breeze caught at her scarf, and she couldn’t tell if the prickle in her eyes was from the cold or the words she wasn’t ready for. She’d been so set on leaving, on protecting herself from the exact kind of hope he was holding out right now.
And yet...she’d imagined it. She’d imagined mornings in a place like this, coffee mugs in hand while the sun came up over those ridges. She’d imagined laughter echoing off the porch rail, and the way her suitcase could finally be shoved into the back of a closet and forgotten because she wouldn’t need it anymore. She’d imagined...him.
The thought of losing that felt like stepping too close to the edge of the ridge, heart pounding with the drop beneath. And still, her feet refused to step back.
She moved closer, not trusting herself to speak, her boots crunching in the frosted grass until she was right in front of him. His breath clouded in the cold between them, mingling with hers.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, the words rushing out on the fog of her exhale. “For assuming the worst and for not just asking you about the papers. For almost leaving without even saying goodbye.” Her throat tightened, but she pushed through it. “And for trying so hard not to fall for you when it’s been happening since the moment we met.”
When his hands slid to her waist, she let them. His thumbs brushed along her ribs, slow and warm through the hoodie. “Jules...” The way he said her name made her knees feel unsteady.
“I’ve been clinging to control for so long, I’m afraid I don’t know how to let it go. I want to trust God. I want to trust you.”
He lowered his head, and she rose onto her toes to meet him. And when his mouth met hers, it was warm, certain, and everything she’d been fighting. So she stopped fighting altogether.
The kiss wasn’t some cinematic swell of music. It was better. It was the quiet, steady promise she’d been craving for years without realizing it. It was the grounding weight of his palm at her back, the faint scratch of his jaw against her cheek, the way he kissed her like this wasn’t about winning her over but about keeping her.
And for the first time since she’d stepped foot in Redemption Ridge, Juliana wasn’t thinking about what came next. She wasn’t bracing for the fall. She was right here, with him, and she didn’t want to be anywhere else.
When they finally broke apart, Juliana’s breath trembled in the cold air. She kept her forehead against his, eyes closed, because if she looked at him too long, she might drown in what she saw there.
“I love you,” she whispered, the words catching on her breath as if they’d been waiting years to break free. “I tried not to, Gideon. I told myself it was impossible, that it was reckless. But somewhere between that ridiculous pineapple truck and gliding through the air and every moment you’ve pushed me out of my comfort zone...I stopped fighting it. I love you, and it terrifies me.”
His hands tightened at her waist, and when she finally forced herself to lift her gaze, she found his eyes bright with something raw and unguarded. “Good,” he said, voice low and rough. “Because I’ve been gone for you since the day I saw you across the wedding grove, looking like you’d rather wrestle a hurricane than let anyone see you cry. I think I knew then that you were it. And every day since has just proved I was right.”
Her chest ached, still raw from letting go of something so heavy. “But what if I’m not enough? What if I can’t be the woman you need? What if I suck the fun out of everything and you resent me?
“You won’t,” he said without hesitation. “You’re more than enough, Jules. You make me want to be the man God’s been trying to shape me into all along. And I don’t care if you need time to figure this out, or if we take a thousand wrong turns, just don’t walk away from me. Don’t walk away from us.”
Her tears spilled hot against the cold of her cheeks, and she let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t want to walk away. I just...don’t know how to stop bracing for when everything falls apart.”
He brushed the tears away with the rough pads of his thumbs, steady and sure. “Then let me hold you up when you can’t stand. Let me be the one you lean on instead of the one you lose. Because I love you, Juliana. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, too.”
The words settled over her like a shelter, strong enough to withstand every storm she’d been afraid of. And as his mouth found hers again, deeper this time, she knew—finally, fully—that she was done running.
She wasn’t going to miss this moment because she was tied up in knots about what came next. She didn’t know what came tomorrow. But she knew she could trust God to be her foundation, and she knew that Gideon would be there alongside her. And today, that was enough.
24
GIDEON
The Triple R chapel practically glowed, lit up with candles in the windows and lanterns along the path. Gravel crunched under Gideon’s boots as he led Juliana up the steps, and for once he didn’t mind the nip of cold in the air. It was Christmas Eve, and somehow, against every odd stacked against him, she was still here. By his side.
Inside, it was clear that his mom had gone overboard with the greenery. There were garlands over the beams and bows on every pew. But Gideon couldn’t bring himself to roll his eyes. Folks needed pretty things to look at this time of year. Needed hope. And tonight, he felt it thrumming in his chest.
They slid into a pew with the rest of the Reynolds clan, Cassie balancing Arlo on her lap, Stetson trying to poke Chance with his unlit candle. The place wasn’t packed, but it was full enough to feel like community—ranch hands, lodge guests, a couple of locals who wandered in because they knew they’d be welcome. That’s what the ranch had always been about.
The carols started soft, his mom’s voice carrying the high notes, his dad’s steady bass rumbling below. Gideon’s voice wasn’t much to brag about, but he sang anyway, because that’swhat you did in a place like this. When “Silent Night” came around and the candles were lit, he caught Juliana’s face in the glow.
Her eyes were fixed on the flame, like she was drinking in the light. Her features softened, every sharp line of control and worry easing until she looked...peaceful. And man, that did something to him. Because he’d spent the last however-many weeks watching her fight tooth and nail against peace, against letting anyone, including him, get too close. And here she was, looking like she finally belonged.
He forgot to sing. Just stood there holding a candle and a prayer he hadn’t even formed yet.Lord, please...let me keep her. I’ll step up. I’ll do whatever You’re asking. Just...don’t let me lose her now.
The service ended with Scripture, his dad reading about the shepherds who got the angel’s message first. Gideon smirked at that. He’d always liked the story of how God picked the ones nobody expected. Kinda gave him hope.
Back at the lodge after the service, the place was buzzing. Fire crackling, kids shrieking, cocoa steaming. Connie had outdone herself again. There were jars of candy canes, bowls of marshmallows, even gingerbread cookies balanced on saucers like it was some kind of five-star cocoa bar. Connie had taken Cassie and Juliana’s insistence that there wasn’t room at the chapel for the hot cocoa to mean she could take over the entire Redemption Ridge Ranch lodge lobby instead.
Juliana laughed as Chance insisted she pile both whipped cream and marshmallows on her drink, and Gideon just leaned against the mantel watching. She looked right at home, even kneeling in those fancy boots of hers to let a three-year-old decorate her cocoa like it was a construction project.
