Page 65 of Once Upon A Bear

Gideon grimaced, and she tried not to laugh as she knelt on the ground next to him and began snipping away at the stitches.

“You left the ball,” he said suddenly, spitting the words out quickly, as if he was afraid she might interrupt him again. “I was looking for you, and you weren’t there. And I thought—I realized that it didn’t matter what my mother wants for me, or if I was glad to be free from my curse if you weren’t there with me. I’m sorry that I let all those young women fawn over me, when I should have been spending all my attention on you, because you are the thing that’s most important to me. Sunshine, you changed my life, you saved my life, and I don’t know what I would do without you, and I’m sorry for ever making you feel like you didn’t matter to me, because you are the only one that does.”

Guinevere looked up at him skeptically as she continued pulling out stitches. She’d gotten most of them during his impassioned speech, and he hadn’t even noticed.

“Your family doesn’t matter?” she asked.

“They matter,” he said, rolling his eyes ever so slightly, “but you matter the most, because without you, I wouldn’t be here to spend time with them. And I don’t care what they think, and I don’t care what it takes to keep you in my life. I came chasing after you because the woman I love had left the ballroom, and there was no reason for me to stay without her there. Without you, there’s no place in that world for a silly old bear like me. I need you.”

“Oh,” she breathed, her heart pounding in her throat as she set down the scissors and stood.

He loved her. And he had left the ball because he didn’t want to be there without her.

Gideon rose to his feet, taking half a step closer to her.

“I suppose I ought to ask before I kiss you,” he said, “because you left, so maybe I shouldn’t expect that you feel the same way about me.”

There was a hopeful note in his voice, and Guinevere reached up to place her hand on his chest, above his heart, which was beating far too fast.

Maybe giving in was worth the risk. Maybe he was worth the risk.

After all, he did say that he loved her, and she loved him too.

Maybe love could find a way through all the obstacles.

“I suppose I should tell you that I love you too, if only so your heart doesn’t give out,” she teased, placing her fingers on his neck to feel his pulse. “I would hate for you to keel over when I worked so hard to save you.”

“That would be a pity,” he agreed. “You might even call it unbearable.”

“You are un-bee-lievable,” she teased.

“That’s okay,” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eye as he tucked a stray strand of hair back behind her ear, “because you are bee-you-tiful. And it’s even more appropriate, because your hair is like golden locks of honey, so even the bees would believe you’re beautiful.”

“I can barely believe it,” she whispered, “that you actually love me.”

“You’d better believe it,” he said, the words harsh, but his smile wide.

Guinevere reached up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him closer.

“I think I will,” she said simply, before crushing her lips to his.

They had time to figure everything out. For now, she would simply kiss Gideon Rendon and thank the Lord for sending her someone as wonderful as he was.

“We do need to talk about it,” she said when they were sitting at her dining room table, holding hands and sharing a mug of tea.

“About what?” Gideon asked.

“The fact that I’m illegal.”

Gideon set down his tea and took her mug from her, setting it down so he could hold both of her hands.

“We need to clear up one thing. First of all,” he said, “you are not illegal. Magic is, but that does not mean that you are. And I don’t want to hear you talking as if you are, because you’re not.”

She swallowed.

“Now, I understand that you’re worried about it, and I know that I’m not—but that doesn’t mean I want to minimize what you’re feeling. So we can talk to my father and brother about it, and we can work to make things different. I don’t care what it takes. My brothers and I know the king, and I’m sure he’ll be willing to listen to us if we bring something like this to him.”

Guinevere’s eyes began to fill with tears. “You’re not just saying that because you’re trying to make me feel better?” she asked.