Page 27 of Finding Gideon
I picked up one of the menus—laminated, curling slightly at the corners, but clean. Somebody kept this place in good shape. Comfortable without trying too hard.
Out of the corner of my eye, Gideon shifted. That flush still lingered on his cheekbones, trailing up toward his ears. Could’ve been the warmth in here. Could’ve been nothing at all.
Still—I noticed.
Theo flagged down the bartender with two fingers lifted like a salute. “Two pale ales for the gentlemen,” he said, grin sharp, “and another for me before this one runs dry.”
“Make that two,” Ronan added, already tipping the last of his pint into his mouth.
The bartender nodded and moved off, leaving the four of us settling into something that almost felt easy. Almost. Gideon still sat like someone expecting to be quizzed at any second.
Ronan pointed at the menu in my hand. “Get the burger. Trust me. Best in the basin. Messy as hell, though. Wear dark colors.”
“Noted.” I glanced over at Gideon. “Are you good with burgers?”
He nodded once, jaw tight, eyes flicking to mine for the briefest second before returning to the menu like it might bite him if he didn’t keep it in check. “Burger’s fine.”
Theo leaned forward, eyes darting between us like he was watching a movie just starting to get good. “Merle giving you trouble already?”
I huffed a laugh. “He’s been giving me trouble since I set foot in town.”
Ronan made a sympathetic noise. “Yeah, that’s his love language. Interference and bad fishing stories.”
“Mostly interference,” Theo added.
Gideon cracked the smallest smile, barely there, but I caught the faintest softening behind his eyes. They turned warmer for a heartbeat before he pulled it back, like he hadn’t meant to let it slip.
Couldn’t say why I noticed that, but I did.
The bartender brought the beers over, foam curling over the rims slightly, catching the light like it wanted attention. We all reached for ours, the first sip cold, bitter, exactly right after a day that’d been longer than it needed to be.
Theo raised his glass slightly. “To small towns and big appetites.”
Ronan bumped his glass against Theo’s. “And to surviving Merle.”
I joined the soft clink of glass, half-smiling. Gideon lifted his too, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he was part of the joke or the punchline.
“Food’ll help,” Ronan said, wiping his hand on a napkin. “They do these loaded fries too. Worth it if you don’t care about your arteries.”
“Sold,” I said.
Gideon’s voice was lower when he spoke. “I’ll get that.”
I turned toward him. “You don’t have to?—”
“I want to.” That look again, brief, like he’d accidentally handed me something of his he didn’t mean to share. “You’re letting me stay with you.”
That flush was still lingering on his neck.
I cleared my throat, tapping the menu once with the edge of my knuckle. “Alright. But I’m getting dessert.”
Theo grinned. “Man after my own heart.”
“Hands off,” Ronan said. “I saw him first.”
Their bickering rolled smooth and familiar between them, the kind of closeness that didn’t need second-guessing. Comfortable. Easy.
Couldn’t help wondering if that would ever get easier—with time, with the right person. Or if that kind of thing only belonged to other people.
