Again, her thoughts went to Gavin and how easy things were with him. Easy yet exhilarating. Comfortable yet charged. It was the best of both worlds, so why wouldn’t she at least try to find a way to have it all?
Every day in her lab, Julie got specimens outside the norm. She’d seen patients and diseases baffle medical experts and defy survival percentage rates. Scientists and doctors found new methods to take care of old issues every single day. Chemistry had the ability to change one matter into another substance entirely, and the more she thought about the possibilities she hadn’t let herself consider, the more apparent it became that she was onto something.
So what if maintaining a long-distance relationship wasn’t exactly convenient and they had the odds stacked against them? They were Gavin and Julie. Ride or freakin’ die.
Adrenaline coursed through Julie in a steady stream, along with the zing of a good challenge. She’d use the scientific method to draw out plans and find wiggle room that she could chip away at over time, until the pathway revealed itself.
She and Gavin had an undeniable connection, along with proof it carried over to the bedroom—so check off that part as done already. Although for the record, she was totally open to further experimentation.
Whether it required a bit of sacrifice and a whole lot of travel, shifting their ideas of what a steady relationship looked like, and video chats that involved little to no clothing—with Gavin, she’d feel comfortable enough to put herself out there that way.
As Niki said, love was never really convenient.
And only a fool would walk away from a shot at total happiness without giving it a try.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Gavin had known their families would make a big fuss over the new development between him and Julie, and yet, he’d had no idea.
Over the past few hours, there’d been hints dropped about how cute the two of them looked together, and how it was so good to see them so happy. There’d even been one about how beautiful his and Julie’s babies would be. Suffice it to say, the female matriarchs were cooking up more than food in the kitchen.
Naturally, Dad had volunteered to smoke a sugar-cured ham. He’d use any excuse to grill or smoke whatever meats he could get his hands on. It involved a lot of watching, too, AKA, drinking a fair amount of beer while occasionally peeking at the enormous hunk of meat, adding more seasonings, and inhaling the mouth-watering scent.
As tradition dictated, Gavin joined the men, and Julie and Niki assisted in fixing sides in the kitchen. From their stories, he knew that meant mostly snacking while the rest of the women blended several generations and traditions into the best meal of the year.
At least the dads and grandpas won’t be constantly talking about my love life.
Grandpa Frost sat in the frostbitten patio chair next to Gavin, the cold metal frame screeching as he settled in. “I’m so proud of you and the move you made this past year for your career. You look happier than I’ve ever seen you, too.” He lifted his brown bottle in a one-sided cheer. “That Julie sure is a nice girl.”
Expelling his breath through his nostrils, Gavin gripped his own beer bottle tighter and nodded. “She is.”
Hopefully it’d end with that.
“Our wives have been trying to pull off this scheme forever,” Ed said, and Dad and the three grandfathers nodded along, adding their mmm-hmms. “They started planning the wedding before either one of you learned to crawl.” He chuckled. “I assume that’s why you both resisted it so hard—it takes growing up to realize your parents are as wise as they claim to be.”
“We resisted because we know better,” Gavin muttered, and Dad pivoted away from the grill to raise an eyebrow—his way of silently requesting he use his manners. Politeness was a Frost family value that’d been instilled early and often, and in truth, the words had come out harsher than he’d meant them to.
“Well, we thought we did. Obviously, we’ve missed spending time together, and we care a lot about each other. Last night, we both lost our minds a little…” Since his brain took that as a cue to replay blips of their steamy session, he clamped his lips—he was so not giving details. Strong and succinct was key. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t change anything. We both have to return to our normal lives, and that’s that.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Ed said. “You two will find a way to make it work. That’s what you do when you belong with someone.”
Belong with. Naturally, their families assumed once they slept together, every other complication would go away. Sometimes Gavin wondered if they—and most everyone else in Crystal Springs—were delusional. He supposed living in the bubble of the small town, it did seem that simple.
Which is why you and Kristin left town so full of false hope, only to have a harder crash at the end. They’d both been so naïve, not a clue as to what the real world outside the bubble entailed. But he knew better now. Life could make you turn on each other and point fingers, forgetting in the process you were supposed to be on the same team.
For so long, he’d felt guilty about holding Kristin back from the life she’d wanted. Julie had soothed those worries, while at the same time, reminding him that she had gone after her dreams and was currently living them. In Arizona.
He’d learned his lesson, along with how unforgiving people—namely mothers—could be when you hurt their daughter, accidentally or not.
It’d been hard enough to feel the contempt wafting off Mrs. Abbott, although they’d never been that close. The dads and grandpas would be disappointed, same as Preacher Abbott likely was, but the thought of his grandmothers, Peggy, and his own mom giving him that look…
Gavin’s internal organs hardened to lumps of coal, the kind he’d get in his stocking next year if he broke Julie’s heart. Not to mention how intensely he’d resent himself.
Dad extended the enormous grilling fork toward Julie’s dad. “Ed, can you watch the ham? I need to have a chat with my son.”
As soon as he’d been relieved of the utensil, Dad inclined his head toward the driveway.
On the way over, he picked up the basketball that’d been tossed aside yesterday. Dad completed a bounce pass to check the ball, the noise echoing through the air as Gavin passed it right back.
Dad dribbled around him, and Gavin made a halfhearted attempt to block. Dad took it to the basket and swish, nothing but net.
“Dad, I’m not doing this. The main reason I came here for an entire week was to heal. Not to reinjure myself playing street ball.”
“Sounds like someone’s scared,” Dad said, and despite knowing it was reverse-psychology nonsense, Gavin slapped the ball out of his hand. It took a couple of bounces to get the hang of left-handed dribbling, and the arcs definitely weren’t as tight.