Page 87 of Love, Morgan

“I think it’s cool,” Iona said, looking at me, her eyes sparkling.

She had been a little embarrassed by her earlier comments when she finally found out I played, but she’d been enjoying coming along to bridge night and learning the ropes.

I didn’t need to think about how excited the rest of the group was to have her there. For the first few months, it had been like they were trying to outcompete me for who was happiest to have her company. As if any of them could even come close to how happy I was. Ridiculous.

“Well, of course you think it’s cool,” Ripley told Iona. “You’re the one spending your life with her. You’re probably just as bad.”

“I’m not great at bridge,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing pink.

“Yes, you are,” I immediately told her, kissing her cheek.

Ripley shot me a look, that same one she got when she was overwhelmed by how happy I was. She should be looking at me like that constantly. I was loved by Iona Engle. I was always deliriously happy. How anyone was walking around not dying of jealousy was beyond me.

Harlow grinned as she slipped into the booth across from us. “She might not be great at bridge, but my mom said she’s got quite a liking for tinned prunes.”

“Tinned prunes?” Alicia asked, doubtfully.

“Yep. Bonded with Dariush over it, apparently,” Harlow said, leaning over the table as if she was sharing juicy gossip.

Iona leaned into my side. “Uh, yeah. That’s true. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Alicia said, mildly amused. “I just… hadn’t expected that.”

Ripley laughed, lacing her fingers with Alicia’s as she looked at me and Iona. “It’s a really good thing you two found each other. You’re both secretly retirees. Everyone else would be running scared.”

I scowled at her before smiling at Iona. “Let’s not act like you’re not jealous I get to love Iona and you don’t.”

“I’m really not,” she lied.

“You totally are.” I grinned proudly. “And also, just because you lack taste doesn’t mean everyone else does.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “A really good thing you found each other.”

Iona leaned into my side again. Her warmth felt like the only thing I ever needed to keep me alive.

“I don’t care what they say about bridge or prunes,” I told her quietly. “We’re right, and they’re wrong.”

“Mm,” she breathed, leaning in to kiss me. “But I do agree that it’s a good thing we found each other. There’s nobody else in the world I’d rather play bridge, eat prunes, and spend the rest of my life with.”

My fingers found the mango necklace she still wore every day, caressing it gently. “Bridge and prunes. Mangoes and gift wrap. Iona and Morgan. Forever and ever.”

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