Chapter 4
FOUR
SADIE
The wedding reception was a whirlwind of new names and faces. My new husband glared at his plate and occasionally at me. I caught him glancing at his watch for the thousandth time, so I asked, “Anxious about something?”
“It’s almost five o’clock. The oldies will be wanting to go to bed soon, so we’ll be free to leave.”
I pinched my lips, casting an eye over the mostly elderly crowd. They’d picked the food tables bare and were lounging around drinking bucketfuls of coffee. One old man was already snoring in his chair, his mustache hairs fluttering with every breath. “Funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.” Gideon straightened in his chair as two gangly boys approached.
He introduced them as Connor and Glenn, brothers of Lola.
His younger cousins. I was pretty sure I’d met their mom (Jennifer, maybe?), but I needed a diagram to keep all the family ties straight.
There seemed to be an endless supply of cousins to meet.
Gideon nodded at Connor, the taller, dark-haired one. “Report.”
Connor held a tablet in his hands. He turned it around and pressed play on a video.
We watched security footage of the front of the church doors.
A person darted in, spray-painted a pair of boobs, and snuck out.
“Mr. Titty knows our blind spots,” Connor said.
“Snuck into the frame and hid his face at exactly the right moment. We’ve got nothing.
” He grimaced. His dark hair flopped over his eyes, and his suit looked a couple sizes too big for his gangly body.
But he had the steely Mars eyes, and I thought he’d probably grow into a handsome man in another few years.
Glenn already had a bit more bulk, but he still had the awkwardness of a teenager.
“It’s not nothing,” Gideon said. “It’s the first time we’ve got him on video. Good work, Connor. Glenn.”
The boys straightened at the praise, a flush darkening their cheeks as they glanced at each other and fought smiles.
“Connor.” Grandma Mars’s voice made me jump. I glanced over my right shoulder in time to see her come to a stop between me and Gideon. “I don’t want to hear any talk about graffiti today. Let your cousins take care of it.”
“But I’m the one who accessed the town’s CCTV feeds—”
“Not today,” she repeated, voice infinitesimally firmer.
Her eyes were sharp, and her grandson’s lips clamped shut.
Grandma Mars ruled her family—and, by the looks of it, this town—with an iron fist. Her expression softened again as she turned to me, but I didn’t quite buy the kindly grandmother act. “Connor is excellent with computers.”
I smiled. “That’s a very useful skill.”
Gideon caught Connor’s eyes and gave him a solemn nod. Connor straightened, trying—and failing—to hide his glow at his older cousin’s wordless praise. He and his brother slunk away, and Grandma Mars put her hands on Gideon’s and my shoulders.
“Now,” she said. “You’ll need the keys.”
Gideon stiffened. “The keys?”
“To the cottage.”
“No.” Gideon’s refusal was unyielding, and Grandma Mars simply smiled.
She reached into her pocket and dangled a key ring between us. “Yes,” she replied.
“I’m staying at my place.”
I glanced between them, frowning. “What’s going on? What’s the cottage?”
“My dad’s old cottage,” Gideon gritted out. “We’re not staying there.”
“Do I need to remind you of the things you promised me?” Etta Mars asked sweetly.
My frown deepened as Gideon glared at a spot on the table. Etta Mars had something on Gideon. Was that why he’d married me? Gideon’s jaw bulged, but after a long moment, he took the keys from his grandmother.
“Good boy,” she said, and patted his shoulder. “You’ll stay there until the certificate is filed, and then we can reconsider. Now it’s getting late. Give me a kiss and go.”
Dutifully, Gideon got out of his chair and kissed his grandmother’s cheek. His fist was clenched around the keys. I stood and said goodbye to her, then grabbed my small purse from the back of my chair.
“See you both tomorrow,” she said. “Until then…” She smiled at the two of us, and the night looming ahead pressed against the edges of my consciousness.
“Tomorrow?” I asked.
“Family lunch,” Gideon provided. “Every Sunday.” He nodded at the older woman, looking utterly unhappy as his hand slid over the small of my back.
I tried to hide the shiver that went through me.
Tried and failed, apparently, because his eyes flicked over me.
We made our slow way through the church basement, accepting well-wishes and goodbyes, and finally went up the steps and out the door.
Gideon’s hand stayed on my back, fingers splayed, palm warm.
He dropped it when we got outside. The sun was low in the sky, the shadows deep. Cold rushed over me, and I wrapped my arms around myself. Had he been pretending to want to touch me? For whose benefit?
“I’ll follow you,” I said, nodding to my vehicle in the church parking lot. “Is the cottage far? Why didn’t you want to stay there?”
“Where’s your jacket?”
I jerked back at his harsh tone. “Excuse me?”
“You’re cold.”
I dropped my arms to my sides and blew out a breath.
The evening wasn’t cold, exactly; the asphalt was still giving off heat from baking in the sun all day, but there was a chill in the air.
A chill in my bones. My shoulders and arms were covered in goosebumps, but it didn’t stop me from saying, “I’m fine. I’ll be in my car in a minute.”
He grumbled something unintelligible and stripped off his suit jacket.
I lifted my palms, protesting, but the warm weight of it landed on my shoulders before I could back away.
Gideon jerked the lapels closer together, and I couldn’t help the small moan that slipped through my lips.
The garment engulfed me in warmth and the scent of Gideon. The scent of safety.
His big hands were still on the lapels as I pushed my arms through the sleeves. He held me there, scowling, as I snuggled into the warmth he gave me. I looked up at him, wondering if there was a chance—any hope at all—that he felt a spark for me the way I did for him.
“Can you drive in those things?” Gideon demanded, glowering at my very beautiful shoes.
I clicked my tongue to hide my embarrassment.
There was no spark. He found me as ridiculous and repulsive as he had when he first clapped eyes on me.
I waved him off. “You know, I’m not completely useless.
” I stomped past him, dress fluttering around my legs.
“You’re treating me like I’m a liability, and it’s getting real old—”
“Sadie.”
I clicked the fob to unlock the car and wrenched open the driver-side door. “I get that you didn’t want to marry me, but give me a chance. I’m not some useless woman who can’t handle a car—”
“Sadie.”
“I’m not a complete moron—”
“Sadie.”
“What!”
Gideon prowled closer, then crouched down beside the front wheel of my car. The completely flat front wheel of my car that I’d walked by without noticing. His finger traced a clean slice in the rubber, and a brow arched before he lifted his gaze to meet mine.
I blinked at the slash in my tire. Cold fear filled my belly. “What’s that?”
Gideon’s jaw tightened as we stared at the flat tire. His narrowed gaze flicked from my wheel to the church doors, the blue of the spray paint just visible at this angle.
“You think it was Mr. Titty?” I asked.
“Not his M.O.,” he answered gruffly, but his eyes stayed glued to the boob graffiti.
A gust of wind blew past us, and I wrapped Gideon’s jacket tighter around me. Gideon’s gaze snapped over to me, and the valley between his brows grew deeper. “How’s your ankle?”
I blinked at the change in subject. “It’s fine.”
“Don’t lie to me, Sadie.”
I planted my hands on my hips. “How long is it going to take you to figure out that I mean what I say?”
He huffed. “That would make you the opposite of every other woman I’ve ever met.”
“Rude.” I turned back to my car, glaring at the gaping wound in the tire. “I need to get these fixed. Is there a tow truck in town?”
“I’ll handle it,” Gideon said, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He shifted closer as he made a call, his free hand moving to the middle of my back. He murmured into his phone, then met my gaze. “What do you need from the car? We’ll move it over to mine.”
I blinked at him, then at the tire. “But—I don’t—I need to… There’s a spare tire in the back…”
“Sadie.”
I looked up at him, wide-eyed. Someone had slashed my tire. On my wedding day. Why? Who?
His touch was gentle as he curled a finger under my chin. “I will handle this.”
Oh, wow. I stood there, struck by the surety in his voice. It was the first time in a long time that I hadn’t had to deal with every disaster on my own. Gideon was shouldering the burden, even though he clearly didn’t want to be married to me. I didn’t know what that meant.
“Tell me what you need from your car.”
I pointed to the two suitcases I’d brought with me, and Gideon hauled them out of the trunk as if they weighed nothing.
The one cardboard box had work stuff in it; I wouldn’t need that right away.
I grabbed the big tote bag from the front seat, wondering at the vandalism.
Someone could have smashed the window and grabbed my stuff.
But nothing was gone. The tire had simply been punctured, as if in warning.
Gideon put my bags in the trunk of his car, then opened the passenger door and loaded me up. He waited until I was clicked in, his jacket oversized and bulky under the seatbelt. With one hand on the doorframe and the other on the edge of the door, Gideon stood in the opening, watching me.
“Am I in danger?” I whispered.
“No.” His voice was resolute. Intractable. “We don’t know this was directly targeting you. Petty crime has been on the rise. You’ve got a nice car. Could just be bad luck.”
It made me feel a bit better. “Okay.”