Chapter 6

Gideon shifted gears and headed south, checking the rearview mirror to make sure Megs was still following him in her Civic. The sun had already dropped below the horizon, and the city was alive. Downtown Shelburne on a Friday night was lively and bustling, especially at Sammy’s. The burger joint was severely underrated on review sites, but the line stretching out the front doors and into the parking lot was proof that the locals knew its value.

He’d asked Megs out after only meeting her twice. As Gideon turned and pulled into a parking spot, he couldn't help but think back to his last date—if you could even call it that. He’d taken Elaine, a fellow professor at Champlain Community, out for coffee one afternoon. There had been plenty of conversation. She’d filled him in on a grant proposal she was working on for the biology lab and they’d speculated on departmental politics. It was nice. Comfortable.

Nothing like the way he felt speaking to Megs. Or the way he felt when Megs spoke. He’d nearly forgotten to stop the recording, he’d been so enraptured by her performance. He’d given the audition materials a cursory glance when Matt texted him and knew it was a typical romance novel. Lots of longing. Insatiable desire. But when Megs read it . . .

He parked and turned off the car. Gideon’s heart stuttered as Megs stepped out of hers. What was it about her? It wasn’t just that she was objectively attractive. Though, she certainly was that. There was a wildness about her. An unpredictability. Like she was in the exact moment he was but experiencing it on a different vibration.

He opened the door and stood as she approached.

“Am I going to catch Hep A eating here?” Megs nodded at the worn-down sign.

Gideon laughed. “This is still Vermont, you know that, right?”

“I was beginning to wonder.”

Gideon locked his car and strode toward the line at the door. “Sammy’s is an institution.”

Megs trailed behind him. “For professors on a budget?”

“You’re going to owe Sammy and me an apology after you try the food and fall in love.”

Megs scoffed. “I don’t fall in love that easily.”

Gideon smirked as they took their place in line. “Is that a challenge?”

Was he flirting? The corner of her mouth curled as they shuffled forward, waiting to enter the small dining room. It was true, Sammy’s wasn’t much to look at. Old diner-style booths with pictures on the wall that were most likely last dusted in the eighties. It didn’t inspire confidence.

“So, Professor Adams—”

“Please don’t call me that.”

Megs batted her eyelashes. “But Professor—” Gideon groaned, and Megs laughed out loud. “Okay, fine. I won’t torture you, but it does have a certain ring to it.” Gideon raised an eyebrow, and she grinned. “Doesn’t every girl have a secret fantasy that their favorite teacher will fall for them?”

Gideon snorted. “I hope not.”

“Oh, c’mon, you must have adorable young adults lined up at your office for extra recording hours.” Gideon’s cheeks reddened, and Meg’s grinned. “You do, don’t you?”

“They’re ambitious, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh. Fascinated by the . . . course material.” Megs swept her curls from her face, and he held his breath. Her eyes danced. “Champlain should’ve forced you to get a bit older before hiring you. Or insisted you teach something less sexy. Like accounting.”

Gideon coughed a laugh. “Trust me, what I teach is anything but sexy. Lots of boring dials and settings.” He held the door as they followed the line into the building. “And how old do you think I am?”

“Barely thirty.”

“I turn thirty in January.”

Megs beamed at him and tapped her head. “See, I don’t need college.”

The smoke from the grill and clatter from the kitchen melded with loud conversation and music, washing over them as they approached the counter. “How old are you?” Gideon asked, praying she didn’t say something that ended with ‘teen.’ Megs didn’t look or act like a nineteen-year-old, but he’d learned never to make assumptions.

“Twenty-five. My birthday’s in the summer.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. Twenty-five was still young, but socially acceptable. Not that he wouldn’t date someone younger if it was the right fit, he just didn’t believe it would be. He was stable. He owned an apartment and had worked the same job for years, not months. It was too difficult to try to build a relationship with someone who wasn’t at that stage of their life.

Gideon looked up at Megs, watching her as she scanned the off-kilter letters on the menu board above the registers. Based on what she’d said both at the coffee shop and in his office, she was still figuring things out. So why hadn’t he gotten in his car at Champlain and driven home?

She put her hands on her hips. “What do you recommend to avoid dysentery?”

"If your previous assessment of your hunger level was accurate, I'd suggest the double bacon cheeseburger. And the garlic fries are a must."

“Is that what you’re getting?”

“I’m feeling the chili burger tonight.”

Megs wrinkled her nose. “Like chili, chili?”

Gideon laughed. “I’m not sure how to respond to that.” The employee waved for them to move forward and order, and Megs took his advice, adding a chocolate raspberry shake to his recommendations. He couldn’t wait to see her face when she saw the size of the burger. If she could eat more than half of it, he’d be impressed.

When Megs pulled out her wallet, Gideon leaned in and said, “I’ve got it,” then gave the employee his order. He took their ticket and waited off to the side.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Megs fiddled with the strap of her bag.

“I couldn’t let you pay for your own gastrointestinal bug.”

Megs snorted, scanning for an open booth. “Ooh! Go!” She nudged him when an older couple began to gather up their trash. They swooped in and sat.

Megs set her purse on the bench next to her. “So. Tell me more about yourself, Prof—Gideon.”

Gideon leaned back and exhaled. “My story isn’t very exciting.” She tilted her head to the side as if to say, I doubt that. “I grew up in Burlington. Parents still live up north.”

“Siblings?”

“Three. I’m the oldest.”

“Of course you are,” she muttered.

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, continue.” She clasped her hands on the table in front of them and pursed her lips in a secretive smile. He let it go only because he wasn’t sure how far he could press her yet.

“I wanted to go into music production, and I still do some of that on the side, but eventually found myself getting a master's degree and working at Champlain.”

“Seems college was right for you.” Megs looked down at the table.

Gideon crossed his arms and leaned in. “Don’t do that.” Megs’ self-deprecating smile slipped. “Don’t pretend I’m better than you because I got a degree.”

“Multiple degrees.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It was a thing I did because it made sense, not because I’m somehow more intelligent or noble.”

Megs fixed her eyes on him, a slow smile starting at the corners of her mouth. “So you’re not passionate about inspiring the future generations?”

“I enjoy teaching, but passionate?” Gideon shook his head. “That got beaten out of me a long time ago.”

She opened her mouth to say something, then glanced down at their ticket as an employee called out a number. “That’s us.”

Gideon stood to retrieve their tray, and when he sat back down, Megs stared at the monstrosity in front of her.

“Do I look like someone capable of eating this?”

Gideon laughed. He picked up his burger and took a bite, slopping chili out the side and onto the plate. Megs wrapped her hands around the burger as if approaching a feral dog, then squeezed the buns together in an attempt to make it fit into her mouth.

“You can’t watch me.” She grimaced and picked it up.

“Oh, I’m going to watch you.” Gideon swiped a napkin across his lips.

Megs looked affronted, but when he didn’t back down, she swallowed her pride and shoved the burger into her mouth. Bacon grease dripped down her chin, and barbecue sauce squeezed onto her fingers. Gideon took another bite to make sure they stayed at the same level of disgusting.

“So?” he asked with his mouth full.

Megs grinned, trying to chew without letting her mouth gape open. She swallowed, then looked from the burger in her hands to Gideon, and then back again. “I owe you an apology.”

Gideon chuckled and took a drink of his soda. “Good, right?”

Megs didn’t answer, just leaned in for another bite. Her eyes sparkled, and Gideon felt the tightness in his chest ease from earlier. Yes, he’d quite possibly ruined her night at Champlain, but he’d put this expression on her face, too.

The conversation took a pause as they finished their burgers—Megs ate more than half, and Gideon gave the appropriate amount of praise—then resumed as they worked on their garlic fries and drinks.

“Even the shake is good.” Megs sighed as she took a drink.

“Everything here is good.” He tried to hide his pleasure at her reaction to the food but wasn’t very successful. Bringing someone new here was a risk for obvious reasons. He was thrilled the choice had paid off with Megs.

“How have I not heard about this place? I grew up in Sugar Creek. It’s not that far.” She grabbed another fry.

Gideon leaned back in his seat. “But why would you come up unless you had a good reason?”

“Fair.” Megs sighed. “If only I still had a class to attend so I could visit again.”

Gideon took a drink and set his cup on the table. “Do you think you could talk to someone? Maybe they’d make an exception?”

“Doesn’t seem like showing up and talking to people is working well for me at the moment.” She flicked her eyes to his, and Gideon felt her silent judgment.

“Maybe you’ll find someone who’s not quite as stubborn as me.”

Megs laughed and took a drink of her shake, then glanced at her watch. She sighed. “I think I better head home. I have an early shift tomorrow.”

“Coffee shop?”

She nodded. “You going to come visit me there again?”

“Why would anyone go to Sugar Creek unless they had a reason?” he teased, and Megs raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“What was your reason, anyway? I know it wasn’t the coffee.”

Gideon organized the trash on his tray and stood. “I was meeting with the high school principal. Champlain is working on setting up a relationship there for juniors and seniors.”

“You’re in charge of that?” Megs followed him to the trash cans.

“No, but they’re looking to add in some classes that aren’t only core subjects. She wanted to discuss the possibility of me coming out to teach there once a week. Next year, not anytime soon.”

Megs gave a satisfied smirk. “Because you’re teaching something sexy.”

Gideon laughed and slid his trash off the tray. “Because anything that’s not Calculus is exciting to high schoolers.”

Megs cleared her tray and set it on the stack, then strode past him toward the door. Gideon took a step, and Megs lurched forward, catching herself on the back of a neighboring booth.

Gideon looked down to find his foot firmly planted on the sole of a torn-up sandal.

Megs wobbled as Gideon reached out to steady her.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s not your fault.” Megs grabbed onto his arm, lifting her foot to scan the damage as she tried and failed to ignore Gideon’s firm musculature under her fingers. She pulled the shoe off her foot. The straps had ripped through the sides of the shoe, which meant there was no way to reattach them and secure the sandal to her foot. Megs blew out a breath.

“I mean…it was totally my fault.” Gideon slid an arm around her waist. “Here, I’ll help you out to your car. You don’t want to walk barefoot through the parking lot, or all your attempts to avoid hepatitis will be a waste.”

Megs snorted a laugh and switched her broken sandal to her other hand. She hopped next to Gideon, allowing him to support her weight. As annoying as it was to only stand on one leg, she didn’t hate this. Gideon's shoulders were higher than hers, but he crouched to make it easier to use him as a crutch. He smelled like something woodsy—was it his aftershave? Deodorant? Whatever it was, she liked it.

“Is this your move? Make women all vulnerable by forcing them to make fools of themselves by eating food too big for their mouths, then trick them into relying on your manly strength to get back to their vehicles?”

Gideon barked a laugh. “This counts as manly strength? I think an octogenarian could accomplish this.”

Megs was glad it was his arms wrapped around her and not some elderly patron’s. She tried not to sink too far into his warmth. He was only helping her to the car, not inviting her to snuggle. Though that was exactly what she wanted to do.

Gideon walked, and Megs hopped across the parking lot to her car and even though her calf was beginning to ache, she lamented the fact that they were drawing closer. When they arrived, Megs leaned against the driver’s side door to give her leg a break. Gideon didn’t let go of her waist as she set the broken sandal on the roof. “At least it’s my left foot.”

“I could go to a store. Grab you a pair of flip-flops or something,” Gideon offered.

Megs shook her head. “No, it’s fine. These were old anyway.” She loved that he was trying to help, but wouldn’t take him up on it. If he went to the store . . . she’d have to let go of him.

“But you like these sandals.”

It wasn’t a question. How did Gideon know she liked them? He wasn’t wrong, she did like the sandals. They were worn down and the straps were bleached from sitting out in the sun all summer. They were one of her most comfortable slip-ons. “I’m sure I can find another pair if I want to, but I assure you, I have plenty of shoes sitting in my closet at home that will be grateful to get some love.”

They stood there under the streetlight, Megs leaning against the car, Gideon only inches in front of her with his hand still on her hip.

“Thank you for this,” Megs murmured.

Gideon’s hand twitched against her skin. “For ruining your only footwear?”

She grinned. “For making this night not suck as bad.”

“I’m pretty good at making nights not suck as bad.” Gideon’s hair fell across his forehead as he used his free hand to push up his glasses.

“An excellent endorsement. Is that in your course description?”

Gideon chuckled. “No, because this particular set of skills isn’t offered to students.”

“Right . . . ” Megs trailed off and swallowed hard as Gideon’s body moved closer. His eyes were dark in the dim light, and they seemed to drink her in. The toes of her left foot curled over her right as her heart rate spiked in anticipation. He was going to kiss her.

Which would be perfect, except . . . she’d tried to drop the class in the car, but the system had timed out. There wasn’t a reason to mention it, was there? She’d take care of it at home when she had better WiFi. Gideon didn’t need to know or worry about the fact that she wasn’t officially off his roster because she would be. And with his fingertips pressing into her skin, she wasn’t going to breathe a word of something that would pull his rules into question.

“I wondered if I could get your number,” Gideon murmured, his lips so close they nearly feathered against hers. Megs nodded and slid her hands over his arms. It had been ages since she’d felt attraction like this—since she’d laughed like this.

“Yes,” she whispered, barely keeping the tremor out of her voice for that one syllable. Had she ever kissed someone on an almost-first date? Never. Now she wondered what on earth she’d been waiting for.

She didn’t know much about Gideon, but what she did know so far was excellent. He was conscientious. Had integrity. The fact that he’d waited for her outside the building either meant he was kind and altruistic or that he’d hoped for this ending to the evening from the time she’d stalked into his office. Megs couldn’t decide which option was hotter.

Her breathing quickened as Gideon hovered there, and just when she thought her heart was going to burst through her chest, he pulled back and—

Megs watched in horror as he dropped his arm and reached for his phone in his pocket. “Seriously?” she gasped. Gideon looked up with alarm, and she swallowed hard. “Don’t you think we could exchange numbers after . . . you know . . . what we were about to be in the middle of?”

A hesitant smile broke out on Gideon’s face. “I didn’t want to be too forward.”

“You already took me to a drug operation parading as a burger joint and practically carried me to my car.” There she was, asserting herself again. Who was she tonight, and what had she done with Megs DeBosse? She shifted on her foot, still using the side of the vehicle for support. Gideon replaced his hands on her hips, and Megs barely kept her sigh from being audible.

Gideon’s voice was rough. “I was taught always to leave them wanting more.”

“Them?”

“Proverbial.”

Megs scoffed. “Well, my last real relationship ended two years ago, so I’ve been wanting more for, what, four semesters and two summer terms?”

“You could’ve had an associate's degree by now.”

Megs grabbed the front of Gideon’s shirt, ignoring the group of raucous high schoolers exiting the restaurant. “If only college was for me.”

Gideon pressed into her, forcing her back against the car window. “Do you still hate everything about college?”

No. No, she did not. College was her new favorite. Megs kept her eyes trained on his as he curved over her, then sucked in a breath as his nose brushed hers. “I think I made a hasty judgment call. I should’ve . . . ” She couldn’t finish her sentence because Gideon’s hand was moving up the back of her arm, sending ripples of pleasure across her skin. He brushed his fingers over her collarbone before he tucked her hair behind her ear.

Megs held her breath as he cupped her jaw and finally—finally, for the love of all that was holy—kissed her. Every nerve turned into a live wire, every inch of her warming and tingling like she’d just fallen in a vat of Tiger Balm.

Gideon’s lips were soft. Gentle. Curious. She wanted to touch him, run her hands through his hair, but she couldn’t force herself to move. Megs, for maybe the third time in her life, held utterly still, her entire existence focusing on his breath. His hand on her neck. The tip of his tongue brushing against her lower lip.

The kiss was good. So good, she audibly whimpered when Gideon pulled back with glazed eyes and took a large step away from her. He couldn’t hide his amusement at the disappointed expression she knew was plastered all over her face.

Leave them wanting more. He’d succeeded on that front.

Gideon cleared his throat and pulled out his phone. “Number?” Megs gave it to him, and when her phone buzzed in her pocket, she pulled it out and laughed at the message.

Gideon Adams, burger aficionado and destroyer of sandals

“Your official bio at Champlain?”

“Sadly, no. They made me cut the interesting parts.”

Megs pursed her lips, her bare foot fidgeting over her one remaining sandal top. “Well, Gideon Adams. Thank you for this.”

He nodded and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Good luck with the audition.”

Megs blinked. Right. There had been an entire evening before this moment, though she struggled to recall it. She’d recorded an audition and Gideon had watched. Her cheeks flushed.

“I always find it easier to perform in front of a crowd than one person.”

How had he known what she was thinking, and since when did he know anything about performing? “Exactly.”

“But you should be proud of that. You did an excellent job.”

Megs almost swooned as her one available leg started to liquefy. She reached back and pulled on the door handle, then swiveled so he wouldn’t see how much his words affected her. “Now to figure out how to edit and submit it.”

“I’ll text you a free editing software you can use.”

Megs hopped around the now-open door and threw the broken sandal into the passenger seat, then turned back. “Thanks. For . . . everything tonight.”

Gideon’s lips curled. He nodded and adjusted his glasses. “Talk soon.”

“Sounds great.” Megs gave a small wave and slipped into the driver’s seat, searching for a non-dirt-covered spot on her mat to set her bare left foot.