Page 52 of Love, Morgan

“Is that her?” Ripley practically yelled into my ear.

I winced, once at the yelling and once at the realization that Iona heard her. “Uh, yes, but now I won’t be able to hear anything for three weeks thanks to you.”

Ripley laughed. “Sorry. You’ve got this. You know what to do. Keep me posted on how it goes. You’re awesome. You know it, I know it, Iona knows it. And I’ll see you later.”

“Wait!” I yelled, suddenly panicked at the idea of her leaving me alone with my feelings set loose and Iona in front of me. “Weren’t you supposed to tell me who came into the shop?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you later.”

“It absolutely matters. I’m on tenterhooks.” I wasn’t. We both knew it.

“Yeah, right. Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t. See you later. Bye.” And, without leaving me another opportunity to say anything, she was gone.

I chewed the inside of my cheek as I looked at my phone, the call disconnected.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Iona said, her face twisted uncomfortably.

“It’s really okay,” I said, waving the phone. “It was just Ripley.”

She nodded, smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“You came back.” I didn’t mean to say it, especially with such a sad, desperate edge, but, once the words were out, there was no taking them back.

Iona ducked her head. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to ditch you like that. Well, I guess I did. But I didn’t. I just… I mean… I. Um. Huh.” She took a deep breath. “I figured out who sent the mango, and I just needed to check if my suspicions were correct.”

I stared at her, my mind whirling painfully from all of the emotions and unexpected twists. “And were they?”

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and nodded. “Yep.”

“Oh my god.” I reached out, grabbed her hand, and yanked her into my bungalow.

It was only when I had her practically pinned to the wall by the door and her pupils dilated, her cheeks flushing hard, that I realized what I’d done and how it looked.

Chapter 16

Iona

Morgan pinning me to the wall was definitely an experience. Not the kind I’d been prepared for, or ever experienced before, but definitely an experience.

I stared at her with wide eyes, entirely unsure what her next move was.

Her body was so warm, her scent so sweet. She was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen, especially so close up. Just the proximity of her made my throat dry. Something in me—something new and unfamiliar—ached to kiss her.

The moment she realized what she’d done was written on her face. Her eyes flashed, her eyebrows momentarily shooting up her forehead, before she caught herself, settled into a satisfied grin, and said, “So? Who was it?”

I cleared my throat, more for something to do than because I thought it would help. My heart was pounding in my chest. If she came even a millimeter closer, I was certain she’d feel it herself.

“Here?” I asked, using my free hand to gesture to the doorway, and hoping she didn’t notice how clammy it suddenly was.

She laughed. “Why not?”

“Uh, because I’m pinned to the wall and that’s… a somewhat unusual position to have a civil conversation in.”

She sighed, stepping back and letting me go. “I suppose you’re right. Come on in.”

It took a second for the room to stop spinning before I could follow her into the living area of her bungalow. As I’d suspected, it was almost exactly the same as mine structurally, but Morgan’s presence was everywhere here. A robe thrown over the back of a chair, jewelry laid out on the sideboard, shoes kicked off in pairs at odd locations around the space, even her scent in the air. This place was Morgan through and through, even if she’d be gone again in a few days.

She grinned at me. “I’m going to do the right thing and offer you a drink, but please be aware of the restraint I am showing because you absolutelyhaveto tell me who sent the mango. It’s life or death.”

---