4. Stop Looking at Her Mouth
stop looking at her mouth
Gabriel
Gabriel had made a tactical error.
He'd spent the last three days telling himself that Marnie Cole was uptight, overprepared, and exactly the kind of person who probably color-coded her spice cabinet.
All of which was true.
What he hadn't accounted for was that she was also funny when she let her guard down, surprisingly resilient when things went wrong, and had this habit of biting her lower lip when she was thinking that was becoming a serious problem for his concentration.
He was in trouble.
They were somewhere between Ottawa and Montebello, Gabriel had lost track of the exact route after the third wrong turn, and Marnie was sitting across from him in the bus's cramped dining nook, reorganizing her portfolio for the fourth time that morning.
She'd been quiet since the fire pit. Not cold, exactly. Just... careful.
Gabriel understood careful. He'd spent most of his twenties being careful after his father died and the fromagerie nearly went under. Careful with money, careful with trust, careful not to want things he couldn't have.
But there was something about Marnie's particular brand of careful that made him want to mess it up a little. Just to see what happened.
"You're staring," she said without looking up.
"I'm observing."
"That's the same thing."
"It's really not." He leaned back against the window. "I'm trying to figure out if you've always been like this or if it's a recent development."
Now she looked up. "Like what?"
"Wound up. Prepared for every possible disaster."
Her jaw tightened slightly. "I'm not wound up."
"You've reorganized that portfolio four times in twenty minutes."
"I'm being thorough."
"You're avoiding something."
She set down her papers with deliberate care. "And what, exactly, do you think I'm avoiding?"
This thing that's happening between us that we're both pretending isn't.
"I don't know," he said instead. "You tell me."
They stared at each other. The bus hit a pothole and Marnie's water bottle tipped over, spilling across her notes.
"Damn it..." She grabbed for napkins, blotting frantically.
Gabriel reached over to help, his hand brushing hers.
They both froze.
"I've got it," Marnie said quickly, pulling back.
"Right. Yeah." Gabriel withdrew, feeling like he'd just touched something electric.
From the front of the bus, Clara's voice rang out. "Okay, people! Content time!"
Marnie looked relieved at the interruption. Gabriel tried not to feel disappointed.
* * *
Clara had set up what she called a "TikTok activation moment" in the dining nook, which apparently meant filming them answering rapid-fire questions while sitting uncomfortably close together.
"It's like a couples challenge," Clara explained, "but for, you know, work colleagues who everyone thinks are dating."
"We're not..." Marnie started.
"I know, I know. But the algorithm doesn't care about truth. It cares about tension." Clara positioned her phone. "Okay, I'm going to ask questions and you both answer at the same time. Ready?"
"No," Marnie said.
"Perfect! First question: What's your go-to comfort food?"
"Poutine," Gabriel said.
"Pasta," Marnie said.
"Ooh, carbs. Love it. Next: What's something you're secretly bad at?"
Gabriel thought for a moment. "Returning phone calls."
Marnie hesitated. "Small talk."
He glanced at her, surprised. She was staring straight at the camera, refusing to meet his eyes.
"Interesting," Clara said. "Okay, next: What's your ideal vacation?"
"Somewhere with no Wi-Fi," Gabriel said.
Marnie made a small noise that might have been horror. "Somewhere with reliable Wi-Fi and a detailed itinerary."
Gabriel couldn't help it, he laughed.
"What?" Marnie asked.
"You just described my personal hell."
"And you described mine."
"See?" Clara zoomed in on them. "This is the content. Keep going. Next question: Have you ever been on a vacation without a plan?"
"Yes," Gabriel said.
"No," Marnie said firmly.
"Not even once?"
"Why would I do that? That's how you end up stranded in an airport with no hotel reservation."
Gabriel turned to look at her. "That's also how you end up having adventures."
"I don't want adventures. I want confirmation emails and backup plans."
"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."
"It's practical."
"It's boring."
Her eyes flashed. "Just because I like being prepared doesn't mean I'm boring."
"I didn't say you were boring. I said your vacation philosophy is boring."
"That's the same thing!"
"It's really not."
Clara was filming with barely suppressed glee. "This is gold. Okay, last question: If you could describe your travel companion in one word, what would it be?"
Gabriel looked at Marnie. She was frustrated, flushed, completely convinced he was insulting her when really he was just,
"Surprising," he said.
Marnie blinked. "What?"
"You're surprising." He shrugged. "I thought you'd be one thing, and you keep being something else."
She stared at him for a long moment. Something shifted in her expression, softer, uncertain.
"Oh," she said quietly.
"Your turn," Clara prompted. "Marnie, describe Gabriel in one word."
Marnie's gaze hadn't left his face. "Inconvenient."
Gabriel grinned. "That's fair."
"And annoyingly perceptive."
"That's three words."
"I'm bad at following rules."
"Now you're just lying."
Clara lowered her phone, practically vibrating with excitement. "Okay, that was perfect. The internet is going to lose its mind."
Marnie seemed to snap back to herself. "Can we see it before you post?"
"Already posted."
"Clara..."
"Relax, you both look great. Very will-they-won't-they. People are eating it up." She checked her phone. "Oh wow, we're already at two thousand views."
Marnie looked like she wanted to argue, but Kayla appeared before she could.
"Okay, team! We're pulling into Montebello in twenty minutes. Get ready for the outdoor market event. Marnie, do you have your..."
"Notes? Yes."
"And Gabriel, you're good with..."
"Cheese? Always."
Kayla beamed. "Perfect. This is going so well. You two are really selling the chemistry."
After she left, Marnie turned to Gabriel. "We need to talk about boundaries."
"Do we?"
"Yes. People think we're, they think there's something..."
"And that bothers you."
"It's not accurate."
"Isn't it?"
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Gabriel leaned forward slightly. Close enough to see the exact moment her breath caught.
"It means," he said quietly, "that maybe they're seeing something you don't want to admit is there."
"There's nothing there."
"You sure about that?"
Marnie held his gaze for three seconds, Gabriel counted, before standing abruptly.
"I'm going to review my notes," she said.
"You already reviewed them."
"Then I'll review them again."
She disappeared toward the bunks, and Gabriel sat back, running a hand through his hair.
Luc had been right. He was absolutely putting money on this.
* * *
The Montebello market was smaller than the Ottawa venue but somehow more chaotic. Local artisans, farmers, buskers, and what appeared to be a children's petting zoo all competed for space in the town square.
Gabriel set up their booth while Marnie confirmed details with the event coordinator, a cheerful woman who kept calling her "sweetheart" in a way that made Marnie's eye twitch.
"You okay?" Gabriel asked when she returned.
"Fine. She just..." Marnie gestured vaguely. "I'm a marketing professional, not a sweetheart."
"You could be both."
"I'm not."
"How do you know?"
She gave him a withering look. "Because I've met myself."
"Fair point."
They worked in sync now, Gabriel noticed. She poured, he explained. She handled the business cards, he handled the stories. They'd developed a rhythm without discussing it.
It should have felt natural.
Instead, it felt dangerous.
Because every time she laughed at something he said, every time she absentmindedly touched his arm to get his attention, every time she bit that damn lip while concentrating, Gabriel felt himself leaning further into something he probably shouldn't want.
"Excuse me?"
A young couple approached the table, holding hands. The woman was practically bouncing with excitement.
"Are you the wine and cheese couple from TikTok?"
Gabriel saw Marnie's shoulders tense. "We're the tour representatives, yes."
"Oh my God, you're so cute together! How long have you been dating?"
"We're not..." Marnie started.
"Is it true you met on the bus?" the man asked.
"Technically yes, but..."
"That's so romantic!" The woman pulled out her phone. "Can we get a picture?"
Gabriel watched Marnie calculate her options. She could correct them, again, and risk seeming difficult, or she could play along and deal with the growing misunderstanding.
"Sure," Gabriel said easily, making the decision for her.
Marnie shot him a look that promised murder later.
They posed for the photo. The couple thanked them profusely and bought two bottles of wine and a wheel of aged Cheddar.
After they left, Marnie turned to him. "We can't keep doing this."
"Doing what? Selling wine and cheese?"
"Pretending we're together."
"We're not pretending anything. We're just not correcting their assumptions."
"That's the same as lying."
"It's marketing."
"It's..." She broke off, frustrated. "What happens when the tour ends and everyone finds out it was fake?"
Gabriel considered that. "Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters."
"Why?"
"Because..." She seemed at a loss. "Because truth matters. Authenticity matters."
Her voice wavered. Just a little. Enough for Gabriel to realize this wasn’t about marketing anymore.
"Then let's be authentic." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Tell me you don't feel anything when we're together."
Marnie's eyes went wide. "Gabriel..."
"Tell me you haven't thought about what it would be like if we stopped pretending."
"We're not pretending. There's nothing to..."
"Marnie." He held her gaze. "You're a terrible liar."
Her cheeks flushed pink. "You're being inappropriate."
"I'm being honest."
"Well, stop it."
"Why?"
"Because..." She took a breath, clearly trying to regain her composure. "Because we have a job to do. Because this is professional. Because I don't, I can't..."
She looked genuinely distressed now, and Gabriel felt something in his chest twist.
He stepped back, giving her space. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"I'll stop. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." He ran a hand through his hair. "You're right. We should keep this professional."
Marnie nodded, relief and something else, disappointment?, flickering across her face. "Thank you."
They finished the event with careful politeness, maintaining exactly the right amount of distance. Professional. Appropriate.
It felt wrong.
* * *
That evening, back on the bus, Gabriel lay in his bunk and stared at the ceiling.
From across the narrow corridor, he could hear Marnie shifting in her own bunk. Restless. Unable to sleep.
He knew the feeling.
His phone buzzed. A text from Tante élise.
Tante élise: The Collective board saw the TikToks. They're very pleased with the exposure.
Gabriel: Good
Tante élise: Is something wrong, mon chou?
Gabriel: Non, everything's fine
Tante élise: You're lying
Gabriel: How can you possibly tell over text?
Tante élise: Because you used proper punctuation. You only do that when you're stressed.
Gabriel smiled despite himself.
Gabriel: I think I’ve made the mistake of falling for someone afraid to fall back.
Tante élise: And this is a problem because...?
Gabriel: Because she doesn't want to fall back
Tante élise: Or she's scared. There's a difference.
Gabriel: What do I do?
Tante élise: Be patient. Be yourself. And stop overthinking. You're starting to sound like your brother.
Gabriel: That's cruel
Tante élise: But accurate. Bonne nuit, mon chou.
Gabriel set his phone down and listened to Marnie shift again in her bunk.
Be patient, Tante élise had said.
He could do patient.
Probably.
From across the corridor, Marnie's curtain rustled. Then, quietly: "Gabriel?"
"Yeah?"
A pause. "Are we okay?"
He smiled in the darkness. "Yeah. We're okay."
"Good." Another pause. "Your cheese is very good. The Fleuron especially."
"Thanks."
"And you were right. About the Riesling pairing. It was better than the Chardonnay."
"I know."
"You're supposed to say thank you."
"Thank you."
Silence. Then: "Good night, Gabriel."
"Bonne nuit, Marnie."
Her curtain rustled closed.
Gabriel lay awake a while longer, thinking about the way she'd looked at him today, frustrated, flustered, fighting something she didn't want to admit was there.
She was falling and pretending not to. And he was already halfway gone.