Gideon huffed, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs. “Easy, Sadie.”
“I need to punch himright now.”
Gideon’s smile was brighter than I’d ever seen it. “I love it when you get all protective of me.”
“Well, no one else is going to do it, are they?” I gave up the fight and stayed in the circle of his arms. “You need taking care of, Gideon Mars, and I’m damn well going to do it. Stealing your father’s ring when you were desperate!”
He tightened his hold on me, leaning his forehead againstmine. “I don’t care about the ring. I would have given him my right arm if it meant I got you back.”
“Still, that’s not?—”
“Sadie.” Gideon kissed me, then pulled away. Smiled. “It’s just a ring.”
That’s when I realized Gideon seemed lighter. Freer. I wondered how much his promise to his father had weighed on him all these years. All the responsibility for his family’s well-being had been thrust onto Gideon.
Now, maybe, it was time to start a new chapter—with me.
Eventually, after multiple interviews with police officers, Gideon and I were on the road back to Marswood Harbor. We would spend the night at the cottage, then head to the city together in the morning, where I’d meet with my new client and earn enough money to reopen the doors of my business. In the meantime, Etta would deal with the nightmare of insurance, police reports, and construction required to rebuild Life’s a Stitch.
As we drove past the gates of Etta Mars’s estate, I said, “Your grandmother is kind of scary.”
Gideon laughed. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t think she’d give me the wedding certificate without talking to you.”
“She did talk to me.”
“What? She was with me the whole time. I told her I wanted to file it, she listened, and then she got someone to bring me the paperwork. She didn’t touch her phone.”
Gideon smiled softly, slowing as he hit the town limits. The leaves on the trees fluttered in welcome, and Glenn, Connor, and Lola turned to wave at us from where they stoodin front of the beauty parlor, scraping spray paint off the windows.
“That day she called me into her study,” Gideon replied, pulling up on the side of the road in front of the burned-out husk of Life’s a Stitch. “She asked me if I wanted to make it official. I said yes.”
I stared at him. “That was only two weeks after the wedding.”
“Yeah.”
“It was before we…before anything. We barely knew each other.”
“It was enough to know you were the one.” His voice was soft. Sincere. He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear then leaned across to kiss me once, twice, three times. Then Gideon pulled something out of his pocket. My wedding band shone between his fingertips for a moment, and then Gideon took my left hand and slid the ring where it belonged.
Throat tight, I threw my arms around him and kissed him harder. Then we got out together and got my stuff out of the mangled wreck that was my car. Soot, ash, and dents marred the front of the vehicle. Both front tires had exploded from the heat, but most of my belongings seemed to be okay.
“I’m going to need a new car,” I said.
“I’ll handle it,” Gideon replied, and I smiled, knowing he would.
That evening,Gideon and I moved slowly, enjoying the feel of each other’s arms. He fielded phone calls fromthe whole family, and I was surprised to hear my phone ringing just as much. Finally, frustrated at the hundredth assurance that we were both okay, Gideon took both phones, turned them off, and tossed them in the junk drawer in the kitchen. His annoyance made me laugh, and I delighted in the tiny curl that tugged at his lips.
We ate, cuddled, and kissed. We touched each other and reminded each other that we were safe, and alive, and in love. Just like this—just as we were—we were enough. The certainty of it sank me into the deepest, most restful sleep of my life.
Waking up next to Gideon with early morning sun streaming through the bedroom window was one of the happiest moments of my life. He took his time to kiss and stroke me, until I was a limp body in the bed beside him. Then he grinned and tugged me out of bed…
And to the front door.
On the stoop, a reusable grocery bag waited beside a cardboard tray bearing two cups from Knead More Bread.
“Matcha!” I exclaimed, delighted.
