27
The smell of gas fumes was in the air. No wonder with the five-gallon container in the bed of the truck. Lance wasn’t taking any chances anymore.
The drive to Paris would take three hours. Shorter if he kept the pedal to the metal. But his foot kept easing off the gas as he relaxed into the comfortable silence with Gwin.
They’d never needed words. Now they didn’t need glances, just this nearness. Their fingers entwined until he needed to maneuver the wheel with two hands. On the winding roads, she’d rest her hand on his knee until they reconnected.
His mind should’ve been on the mission at hand, but it was squarely focused on his future with the woman beside him. His woman, his wife.
They’d exchanged vows and sealed the contract with deeds, again, and again, and then again. There w
