LeatrixSage
Muse| Philosopher| Valkyrie| Gypsy Cowgirl
- Local time
- Today 10:14 PM
- Messages
- 39
- Age
- 38
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Nestled among several other bars and restaurants, Congress Street Up was a couple of blocks from the riverfront. Like its neighbors, it was a vibrant splash of light and life in the historical district, brightening Morgan's mood as she and Olivia walked down the block. Winter weather could be unpredictable in Savanah, and every street was lit up with Christmas decorations as if to remind everyone that, despite the mild temperatures and the lack of snow, it really was mid-December. No one was expecting a white Christmas, but it meant that the night life never really slowed down, either, and there were couples and groups wandering up and down the sidewalks that sounded like they had holiday cheer to spare.
This was good, because as she stood looking at the brightly painted sign reading "Christmas Speed Dating!!!" Morgan thought she might need whatever extra bits of holiday cheer she could get her hands on. The sign was loud, full of bright reds and greens and bespeckled with snowflakes, candy canes, gingerbread men, and Christmas trees, and the three exclamation points made her think of an overly excited cheerleader jumping up and down. One dressed up as a Santa's elf with shiny, silver tensile for pom-poms. From Morgan's side, her sister's equally excited fidgeting made her good mood give way to wary anxiety.
"Is this a trap?" Morgan asked, backing away from the sign.
"Oh, it definitely is," Olivia said, tugging her forward and sounding much too happy about it.
"No." Morgan tried to turn away, but Livy tightened her grip on her arm.
"Come on." She tugged again and Morgan stopped. "Just give it a try, would you?"
"You said we were going bar hopping. I thought this place was a museum." Morgan was deflecting. She rubbed one of her palms against her jeans to dry it. It wasn't nearly warm enough to be sweating, but she was getting nervous.
"It is," Olivia said. "And it is a bar. And a restaurant. Would you just relax?"
"I'm not sure I'm ready for this, Livy," Morgan confessed more quietly as they both scooted over to let a pair of laughing couples go past them.
"Don't you think you've let that control you for long enough?" Livy's voice had gentled down, but her resolve didn't flinch. "You don't have to fall in love, you know. No one expects you to." Morgan shot her sister a look and Livy had the grace to blush. "Okay, no one but Mom expects you to. I know it's been hard trying to get over Kenneth, but you really are allowed to have your life back."
Morgan winced. The reminder of her ex-fiancé still hurt more than it should have. It wasn't Livy's fault, but Morgan still felt just a little betrayed. It was their mother's perspective that she was just being too proud for her own good. Kenneth had been such a good match, after all. A business partner and a long-time friend of the family. Men slipped, they made mistakes, and Morgan had been told more than once that she should get over her wounded vanity and forgive him. Of course, her mother had set them up in the first place, and she'd taken the break up rather personally. Her troublesome eldest daughter ruining all her well laid plans.
"Instead of skipping out on the family again this year, try to meet someone you can bring to the family party," Livy was smiling up at her when Morgan looked down. "That'll keep Mom off your back. After that, if the two of you don't click, you don't have to go on another date. So, please? If not for you, then do it for me. I miss my big sister."
Deep breath in, deep breath out. "That's not playing fair," Morgan complained, but she had already relented. "If I do this, I don't want to hear another word about getting myself back out there. Deal?"
Livy chewed at her bottom lip, but when Morgan tried to walk off again, she clutched harder at her arm. "Alright! Alright, it's a deal. You do this, and I'll keep my nose out of it from here on out. But you have to actually try, okay?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll try."
"Wonderful, now, let's do something about you." Olivia let go of her arm and started fussing with her clothes.
Morgan tried to smack her hands away, but Livy was determined.
"At least the shirt is a good color. Makes your eyes look greener." Batting away Morgan's hands, Olivia undid a few of the buttons at the bottom of Morgan's long blouse, then tied the ends tightly together around her waist. Neither petite nor slender, it made Morgan feel awkward, but as she stood back, surveying her handiwork, Livy insisted it accentuated her waistline.
"The boots and tights were a good choice, makes your legs look even longer. But you should put your hair up since you didn't do anything with it."
"I'm glad you approve of something, at least." Morgan gave her sister a rueful smile, using the offered elastic to pull her hair into a quick ponytail. It wasn't quite so dark a black as Livy's, but had that same ashen shine of silver where the light hit it. "There, better?"
"Much," Livy was beaming and it made Morgan fidget. "You have such a long, elegant neck. You should show it off more."
"Yay, I am a giraffe. All neck and legs."
Livy only laughed at her teasing, utterly undeterred.
Morgan let Olivia lead them inside and over to a small table set to one side and covered with more excited signs for the speed dating event. Several women who looked like those overly excited cheerleaders Morgan had been thinking of before, were waiting with clipboards, pens, and an assortment of other items.
Morgan signed herself in, wrote down her contact information, and then was told to pick a nickname. Livy decided it should be 'Moe,' and one of the cheerleaders jotted it down on a name tag.
Finally, they gave her a scorecard and broke down the details of the evening: the Ladies were to pick a table and get comfortable, then the Gentlemen would visit the tables, where they would have three minutes to chat. When the bell rang, they'd move on to the next table. If she liked someone, Morgan was to jot down their nickname on her scorecard. At the end, everyone turned in their cards. If there was mutual interest, the organizers would provide each party with the other's contact information.
While the entire thing made Morgan feel awkward and uncomfortable, she had to admit that it was pretty well organized, and tried to put as little pressure and stress on the participants as possible. It didn't make her any less apprehensive, but it was better than what she had been imagining. She wouldn't have to turn down any awkward requests to get her name and her number.
Neither did she have to worry about being rejected if she tried to ask for the same herself. It freed up that short window of meeting each other to focus completely on making a good first impression. Morgan liked to think she was good at asking the right questions and getting the real answers. She'd just treat each date like it was an interview for an article she was writing.
"I'll be at the bar," Olivia leaned in to give Morgan a kiss on the cheek, breaking her train of thought. "I'll get a bite to eat and have a drink waiting for you, okay?"
"I'm sure I'll need it." Morgan offered up a smile she didn't really feel, but Livy had already snatched her purse and wandered off. She had to give her sister some credit, stealing her phone and her wallet did make it all that more difficult to bail.
Resigned to spending her evening answering inane questions about herself, Morgan found a table tucked toward the end of one row and put her back to the wall. It felt better to see everything, less like people were constantly creeping around behind her. There was a comfort in watching everyone that bolstered up her confidence, so it was extra annoying to catch herself chewing on her fingernails.
She sat back in her chair and put her hands in her lap, just to start tapping her score card against her knee in time with her quickening heartbeat. Morgan had expected to be annoyed, maybe even bored, but she was suddenly extremely nervous, and that started to make her feel irritable.
Small blessings being what they are, she was grateful when a waiter came by to see if she wanted a drink. There was a moment of panic when she remembered that Livy had her wallet, but that passed when the waiter told her she could open a tab. A bartender friend had once told her that people who ordered amaretto sours were "…that friend that didn't really want to be social, but went anyway because they couldn't say no and mean it." Maybe it was fitting that it was her go-to order.
While she waited for the event to begin, Morgan took in the festive, speakeasy atmosphere of Congress Street Up. It was a warm place, not bright but still filled with a steady, amber glow. The holiday decorations somehow fit right in with the old, brown brick and darkly stained wood that made up the bulk of the place's color palate. Deep green garlands that looked like evergreen branches were wrapped around posts and artfully draped from the ceiling in shallow arches, and accented with gold, red, and green ornaments that were just big enough to catch and throw light around. It worked so well that it made that background hum of clinking glasses, scrape of forks on plates, casual talk, and jovial laughter all feel more like the holidays than the seasonal music most places would probably be playing.
The more she observed, the calmer Morgan became. There were plenty of people milling around the tables that had been set apart for the speed dating event. Some were gathered in little groups and chatting. Others, like her, had already found a place to sit and wait while they nervously fidgeted and fussed. For the most part, people were smiling and laughing, and it became infectious. Morgan found herself smiling as well and feeling much lighter than before. There had to be some joke there about the Christmas spirit and she smirked at herself for thinking about it.
Her drink arrived just as the organizers began encouraging everyone to find their seats for their first date. The ladies found their tables quickly, and then the gentlemen began milling about, finding places to settle.
Morgan took a larger swallow than she probably should have, suddenly feeling a desperate need for the liquid courage. Despite how much she had enjoyed watching everyone before things began, Morgan found herself trying very hard to keep her eyes focused on the tabletop. All her apprehension had come right back and she was trying very hard not to make eye contact with anyone. Maybe, if she was really lucky, there wouldn't be enough of the guys to go around and she could just go unnoticed.
Morgan wasn't so lucky and she cursed under her breath when she glanced up and immediately locked eyes with someone who looked half her age. His smile was unsure as he made his way over to her, but it was open and honest. She offered him one in return, because it felt too rude not to.
"Hi, how's it goin?" he asked.
"Not sure yet, the night's only just begun." She held her hand out on instinct as he sat, and he awkwardly accepted. He held her hand like he might hurt her and Morgan almost felt bad for the firm shake she gave him. "Nice to meet you… Ride or Die?"
"Yeah," he blushed as he looked down at his nametag, but grinned. "It's what I'm looking for."
"What's that?" she asked. He looked confused, so Morgan tried again. "I mean, what are you looking for."
"My ride or die," he said as if that explained everything.
"And that is what?"
The look he gave her made Morgan feel like she had a suddenly grown an extra set of ears. There was one thing she could be thankful for, at least she wasn't anxious anymore. She chuckled and took another long drink, thinking that being a little drunk would at least make things fun.
Ride or Die was a college junior, a philosophy major, and didn't really have any plans for after he graduated. He was nice enough, but almost literally half her age. While she imagined her mother's reaction would be hilarious to witness, it felt too much like taking advantage of him.
Richie was next. He was in sales of some sort and seemed decent enough. But he traveled a lot and was looking for someone to hookup with whenever he was in Savanah. While part of Morgan liked the idea of a no-strings attached relationship, if she was looking for someone to drag to the family holiday gathering, it wouldn't be him.
Goober was fixated on Morgan's choice of musical preferences and trying to change them. Apparently steel guitar was far superior to regular acoustic when it came to making covers for old rock songs. Einstein decided he needed to correct her idea that journalism was a fitting career choice – apparently, he thought she'd make a much better secretary.
Black Friday was having a flash sale on the opportunity to go on quintuplet dates with his polycule. Morgan didn't have anything against the lifestyle, and was even a little amused imagining how she'd go about announcing to her family that she was dating four people – or wait, was it five? She wasn't all together clear on if she'd be the fifth or the sixth – all at once. But she barely had enough time in her life for herself. Making room and time in her life for four or five others sounded exhausting.
Hamster was very insistent that she needed to be passionate about the breeding and selling of hamsters. Not that it was critical to her life, but that it was very important if they were going to have a relationship. A 'must love hamsters,' instead of a 'must love dogs.' Then there were several decent men that were strongly interested in getting married and starting a family in the very near future. Any of them would make her mother overjoyed, but Morgan refused to use them, or to put herself into a relationship that was lightyears more serious than she wanted. Particularly given that she really didn't want one at all.
Morgan was starting drink number three when Simple Man walked up to the table, and then waited for her to look up at him. "May I sit?" he asked.
"It's why we're here, I think." Morgan had relaxed considerably. Though, to be honest, the heady buzz of alcohol might have had something to do with it. She reached out for what she expected to be another disappointing handshake, but was pleasantly surprised when he gripped her hand like she was there and present, and not some fragile thing that would crumple if he held on too tightly.
"Nice to meet you, Moe." He smiled as he sat and Morgan smiled back. "That a Stooges reference?"
"You could say that. I feel like one." Morgan chuckled and relaxed back into her seat while Simple Man got comfortable and settled. He was drinking a simple – straight and neat whiskey – by the looks of it, and Morgan wondered what his preferred whiskey was.
"Not here by choice?" he asked. Morgan hadn't expected him to pick up her meaning and his smile grew as her face warmed. "Then why come at all?"
"Because my sister can be very persuasive," was all she would admit to.
"Where do you really want to be?"
"At home," she sighed, but was smiling again. "Most likely with a book in hand. Or maybe watching a movie."
"What kind?"
"The book or the movie?"
"Why not both?"
Morgan paused to think about it, stalling while she studied him. She didn't think he was much taller than she was, about six feet or so. His beard was short and blond, but he was bald. His glasses were plain and seemed right at home perched halfway up his nose. Intense blue eyes were watching her closely, but he was utterly relaxed in his skin, just waiting for her to answer, or not, as she pleased. "Urban fantasy for the book, thriller for the movie."
"You like mysteries then?" he asked, and she smirked at him. "Enjoy puzzles, solving things before others do?"
"Something like that," she said. He was insightful and it made her curious. Morgan decided to be a little coy. "Might explain my profession of choice."
He thought about that for a moment, considering her the same way she'd just taken him in. "Don't tell me you're a PI working on behalf of my ex or something. That would ruin my night."
"Why?" he was teasing her, but she couldn't resist the asking. "Some reason you should feel guilty about something?"
"No," he grinned again. "It would just be a shame to think the only reason a gorgeous woman was talking to me was because she had some ulterior motive."
Morgan's face heated up more than she would have liked and she reached for her glass to hide behind taking another drink. Her eyes darted around the bar on the opposite end of the building, looking for Olivia, but she didn't spot her. She wondered if he knew, maybe had overheard them, then told herself that she was just being paranoid.
"What is your field?" he asked when she set her drink back down.
"I'm in journalism."
"Reporter?"
"Yes," she said. "Local, for the Tribune."
"So, I might know your work?"
"Not much to say about it so far," she admitted, surprised just how quickly she had relaxed back into the conversation. "Mostly the fluffy stuff. Haven't really earned the right to do what I want to do."
"And what's that?"
"Well," Morgan leaned forward to rest her arms on the table and Simple Man mirrored her posture. She noticed it and smirked at him again. "Clever man."
"Oh?" his eyebrows went up over an innocent look and she laughed. He smiled, but neither one of them moved away. The silence stretched and heat ran down Morgan's neck. Her heart was beating fast again and she could feel it fluttering against her ribs.
"Which meal is your favorite," she asked, "breakfast, lunch, or dinner?"
His lips twitched with the hint of a smirk, "You didn't answer my question."
"No," Morgan agreed, "I didn't. So, which meal is it?"
"Breakfast for dinner," he said. "Do you have a pet peeve?"
"Wet towels on the bathroom floor." She pretended to shudder and he chuckled. It was a warm, low rumble of sound that made her grin. "Do you eat the crusts on a sandwich or cut them off?"
"I eat them." His head tilted to one side, "why are your questions all about food? Did your mother tell you the fastest way to a man's heart was through his stomach?"
"Yes," Morgan smirked at him, "but my father told me the fastest way to a man's heart was through his ribcage."
He laughed again, louder that time, and drew in a few curious glances that neither of them noticed. "What position do you like to sleep in?"
"On my side."
"Which side?"
Morgan raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"
"Because I want to know if you'll be the little spoon or snuggled up facing my chest, obviously."
She smirked again. "On my right."
"Ah," he nodded and his smile grew, "little spoon."
"Do you snore?" she asked.
"I do, and loudly. You?"
"I have been told it's awful."
"So, we'll rattle the windows together." He chuckled again. Morgan was learning that she liked that sound. "What are you most passionate about?"
"A lot more than I should be, and all of it is a determent to my health."
One eye brow went up and his gaze focused more intently on her own. "I think you dodged that one."
"Did I?" Morgan smiled as innocently as she could manage. "I think I answered it very honestly."
The bell rang. The sound didn't really register until Simple Man leaned back into his chair, and then Morgan did the same. She didn't want him to leave, but couldn't manage to make herself say what she wanted to say.
"It was very nice meeting you, Moe," he said as he stood to hold out his hand. She reached for it without thinking and was surprised when he bent down to press a warm kiss against her knuckles. It was the most old-fashioned thing she'd ever seen someone do, but her heart stuttered and missed a beat.
"And you," Morgan agreed. He smiled at her again, and then walked away. She watched him go, shamelessly making a mental note about the width of his shoulders and how much she liked the way his butt looked in the relaxed cargo pants he wore. He took a seat at another table, and Morgan quickly jotted his name down before Stevie introduced himself and took a seat. The rest of the dates were a blur of names and faces that she lost track of quickly. Every now and then her eyes strayed to wherever Simple Man was sitting, but she never caught him looking her way.
Morgan enjoyed the company of a few other dates and made sure to write their names down, but when she turned in her card, she was still preoccupied with Simple Man. She was surprised to realize that, out of all the dates, she knew the least about him and yet found him to be the most interesting. He hadn't tried to sell her on why she should like him, or impress upon her the kind of person she needed to be in order to be acceptable to him. He'd just asked her things and answered whatever she'd thought to ask him.
He'd pointed out that she liked mysteries. Morgan smirked to herself and wondered if maybe he'd used that to his advantage or if she was over thinking the whole thing. She was still chewing on it when she finally made her way to the bar after a quick run to the lady's room. Olivia was nowhere to be found, but Morgan doubted she'd gotten very far and decided to pick a stool and wait. She wisely ordered herself some food and a Sprite instead of another drink. She was already well and thoroughly buzzed and didn't need to cross that line into thoroughly and annoyingly drunk. Being allowed an open tab during a stressful situation was dangerous.
"Hey, Morgan!"
For a moment there, she'd almost admitted to herself that she'd been feeling warm and happy. She'd almost even conceded that maybe Livy had been right after all, and that she'd actually enjoyed the evening. But that familiar voice wrapped around her name was a bucket of ice water to her good mood.
She looked up into the mirror behind the bar and saw him making his way to the bar. He was leading along a woman she didn't know, and her sister was right behind them and looking irritated. Morgan snatched off her name tag, crumpled it up in her hand, and quickly stuffed it into her pocket.
"Hey, haven't seen you outside of work in a while," Kenneth said, wrapping her up in a warm hug like they were old and dear friends. Morgan's stomach flipped. "I'm glad you're finally getting back on the market. What's it been now, almost three years?"
"Four, actually," Morgan pulled away, forced a smile, and tried to keep her tone polite. It was extra difficult to not point out that Christmas day was actually the anniversary of when she'd caught him in bed with her then-best friend, in her parent's house, in her bedroom.
"Long time," he agreed like he was commenting on the weather, and then wrapped one long arm over the shoulders of the redhead next to him. Kenneth was head and shoulders taller than Morgan, and Morgan was at least that much taller than the redhead. The woman looked absolutely tiny standing next to him. "I wanted to introduce you. This is Katherine, my fiancé."
It shouldn't have hurt to hear it, but the news was a brick in the bottom of Morgan's stomach for reasons she couldn't begin to understand. Still, she smiled and reached out to shake the woman's hand. "I hope you have better luck with him than I did."
Kenneth laughed as if it was actually a joke and not a pointed warning. "The one that got away, right?" He asked Morgan, and then looked down at the redhead. "We did pretty well together for a while."
"Must have been hard," Katherine said. "With your father and your fiancé being business partners and all."
"Yeah, it really was. Couldn't get away from him." Morgan spoke around a solid lump in her throat. If it hadn't been for Olivia staring her down, she just might have snapped. As it was, she barely managed to keep the ice out of her voice.
"We were both too focused on our careers," Kenneth said. Morgan hated him for the way he smiled at her. "I take it nothing has changed?"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Well, you're here alone, right?" Kenneth looked up and down the bar. "Last your mother and I spoke, she said you still weren't dating and spending even more time at the Tribune than usual."
"We're having a lady's night," Olivia tried to defend her sister, doing a much better job than Morgan at sounding like she was having a good time and enjoying the conversation.
Morgan opened her mouth to say something she was probably going to regret once she was sober, but the words died on her tongue. She watched as Simple Man walked by, behind Katherine, Kenneth, and Olivia. He didn't look her way; didn't even seem to know she was there.
A mad idea formed.
One she hoped she wouldn't have even thought of if she hadn't been intoxicated and desperate.
Some part of her screamed not to do it, but before she even realized she had made up her mind, she was saying: "It started out as a lady's night, but my fiancé was able to get out of work early. He should be here shortly. Livy, you see him yet?"
Olivia tried very hard to look calm, but Morgan could see the panicked questions behind her eyes. "No, not yet."
"What's he look like?" Kenneth turned to look around, using his height advantage and looking out over the crowd to try and judge who Morgan was talking about.
"Ah, there he is," Morgan pushed past them all to walk further down the bar to where Simple Man had just sat down. He was speaking to the bartender when she reached him, but turned to look at her when she stopped beside him.
"Hey, Moe," he said with a smile. His eyebrows raised when she reached up to frame his face in her hands, but he didn't resist her pulling him in. He let her kiss him without kissing her back at first, then his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her in close.
Morgan had planned to give him a fairly chaste kiss, but he deepened it into something that made her warmer and dizzier than the alcohol had.
She was breathless when he finally lifted his head to grin down at her. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"
"So, this is him?" Kenneth said as he, Katherine, and Livy all came up to them. He sounded uncomfortable, and while Morgan liked that, she'd lost the time to try and explain.
Simple Man, for his part, looked up at Kenneth, and then back at Morgan. "Who's this?"
"My ex," she said. Simple Man's eyebrows went up again and Morgan's throat worked around a dry swallow, but she put on a smile and plowed ahead. "He was just introducing me to his fiancé, so I thought he should meet mine."
"Ah-ha." For several long seconds, Simple Man just stared down at her. Then – finally – a wide smile split across his face and he unwrapped one arm from around Morgan to hold his hand out to Kenneth. "Mason, pleased to meet you…?"
"Kenneth." They shook hands and he winced. "Quite the handshake you have there."
"Eh, sorry about that," Simple Man – Mason – looked down at his hand. "I'm a volunteer firefighter, part time EMT. Gotta keep your strength up."
"What got you into that?" Katherine asked.
"I was a combat medic in the Army," Mason shrugged. "Seemed to make sense."
"Ah. Making the same old mistakes." Kenneth suddenly looked much more pleased as he turned his attention back to Morgan.
Mason looked at her as well. "What mistakes might those be?"
"Conflicting life schedules," Kenneth supplied. "Morgan never was very good at making room for the people in her life."
Mason waited a tick, and when Morgan didn't immediately provide her own answer, he gave her a little squeeze to get her talking. "I spent too much time at work, never had enough time for anyone else."
"Kenny was dissatisfied with you because you didn't make yourself available to him often enough?" Mason asked her. There was a quiet kind of intensity in him that was both thrilling and intimidating, and she couldn't tell if he was making her heart beat faster or slower.
"It's Kenneth," he groused.
Mason ignored him. He was still watching Morgan.
"Among other things," she admitted stiffly.
"What other things?"
Morgan felt her face turn hot again, and this time Mason's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "Really?" His arm tightened around her again. "He was dissatisfied with this body?"
"She never took care of herself," Kenneth argued, earning cutting looks from Olivia and Katherine both.
Mason just chuckled, then looked up at Kenneth again. "Obviously, you're a fool."
"I think we should go," Katherine tugged at Kenneth's arm, cutting off whatever he'd been about to say. She smiled at Morgan. "It was nice meeting you."
"Yeah," Morgan agreed, too stunned to say much else.
"See you at the Christmas party," Livy called after the pair as they left, then turned her attention back to her sister. "So, are you going to introduce me, or do I have to do that myself?"
"This is my sister, Olivia." Morgan started to relax again, but Mason still hadn't let her go, and she was leaning against him a little awkwardly.
"The persuasive one, I take it?" He grinned at her and Livy beamed.
"I usually get my way, yes."
"I'm glad you did," Mason's attention moved back to Morgan and she couldn't seem to resist meeting his gaze. "It's worked out really well for me. Did I hear that right? We're engaged now?"
"You do know he's gonna blab that to our mother, right?" Olivia started to chuckle about it, then slowly started to look worried. "Shit. He's gonna tell mom."
"Ah, hell," Morgan hadn't thought that far ahead.
"Your ex keeps up with your mom?" Mason asked.
"Yeah," Morgan squirmed a little uncomfortably. His grip loosened a little to let her move, but he still didn't let her go. "We were engaged."
"So?" he looked genuinely perplexed and Morgan laughed.
"Mom set them up," Livy told him. "Our Dad runs a small physical therapy practice, and Kenneth over there is in general medicine with his own office. They partnered up back when Ken's dad was still alive, recommending each other to patients, that sort of thing."
"And running charity events… like mom's annual Christmas party." Morgan added.
"I think I get the picture," Mason said. "My mom's been difficult about me getting back with my ex-wife. They like to think they know best, don't they?"
"You were married?" Morgan asked. She was honestly curious but blushed when he raised his eyebrows at her again.
"Yeah, I was."
"How'd it end?" Olivia asked. She didn't look the least bit repentant about it when he looked at her.
"I wasn't around enough," Mason shrugged. "Deployment is rough on everyone in different ways. It was too much for her."
"And now?"
"Livy, ease up," Morgan fussed.
"Now what?" Mason asked.
"Still in the army? Likely to be deployed again?"
"No," Mason chuckled again. "Honorably discharged. Not because I was done, but because I caught some shrapnel in my left knee and it was highly advised that I be done anyway."
"I'm sorry that happened," Morgan said.
Mason smiled at her. "I'm not. If it hadn't happened, I wouldn't have been here to get that kiss."
Morgan turned red all over again and Olivia laughed. "He makes a good point."
"I manage it from time to time."
"You'll manage it a lot less with Morgan."
"Morgan?" he looked at her again and grinned. "I like that better than Moe."
"I might like Simple Man better than Mason," she teased, pleased when his grin grew. "It suits you."
"Does it?"
"I think so, yes."
"So…" Olivia got both of them looking at her again. "What I am hearing is, first and foremost, that I was entirely right and you are going to apologize for doubting me. And next, that Mason is totally okay with coming to the Christmas party and pretending to be your fiancé so long as he gets some more kisses?"
Mason's grin turned wicked. "I think I could be convinced. Could certainly spend my time doing much worse."
Morgan laughed, the sound so full and honest it almost felt alien. She hadn't felt so light or so happy for so long that she wasn't sure how to take it. Mason must have noticed something because the arm still looped around her waist tightened up again.
"Fair trade?" Olivia pressed, so far into match-maker mode that there was no turning back.
"I think we can work out a deal," Morgan agreed. "But we'll haggle the details when I'm sober."
"Does that mean I get your number?" Mason asked.
Morgan laughed again, and before she realized what she was doing, leaned in for another kiss. His arms went right back around her and tugged her in close while her own settled over his shoulders. Really, she thought, anyone that believed speed dating was a dumb idea, but was too busy to date properly, shouldn't be so picky. After all, love can happen in the blink of an eye if you give it a chance.
Particularly during the holidays.
This was good, because as she stood looking at the brightly painted sign reading "Christmas Speed Dating!!!" Morgan thought she might need whatever extra bits of holiday cheer she could get her hands on. The sign was loud, full of bright reds and greens and bespeckled with snowflakes, candy canes, gingerbread men, and Christmas trees, and the three exclamation points made her think of an overly excited cheerleader jumping up and down. One dressed up as a Santa's elf with shiny, silver tensile for pom-poms. From Morgan's side, her sister's equally excited fidgeting made her good mood give way to wary anxiety.
"Is this a trap?" Morgan asked, backing away from the sign.
"Oh, it definitely is," Olivia said, tugging her forward and sounding much too happy about it.
"No." Morgan tried to turn away, but Livy tightened her grip on her arm.
"Come on." She tugged again and Morgan stopped. "Just give it a try, would you?"
"You said we were going bar hopping. I thought this place was a museum." Morgan was deflecting. She rubbed one of her palms against her jeans to dry it. It wasn't nearly warm enough to be sweating, but she was getting nervous.
"It is," Olivia said. "And it is a bar. And a restaurant. Would you just relax?"
"I'm not sure I'm ready for this, Livy," Morgan confessed more quietly as they both scooted over to let a pair of laughing couples go past them.
"Don't you think you've let that control you for long enough?" Livy's voice had gentled down, but her resolve didn't flinch. "You don't have to fall in love, you know. No one expects you to." Morgan shot her sister a look and Livy had the grace to blush. "Okay, no one but Mom expects you to. I know it's been hard trying to get over Kenneth, but you really are allowed to have your life back."
Morgan winced. The reminder of her ex-fiancé still hurt more than it should have. It wasn't Livy's fault, but Morgan still felt just a little betrayed. It was their mother's perspective that she was just being too proud for her own good. Kenneth had been such a good match, after all. A business partner and a long-time friend of the family. Men slipped, they made mistakes, and Morgan had been told more than once that she should get over her wounded vanity and forgive him. Of course, her mother had set them up in the first place, and she'd taken the break up rather personally. Her troublesome eldest daughter ruining all her well laid plans.
"Instead of skipping out on the family again this year, try to meet someone you can bring to the family party," Livy was smiling up at her when Morgan looked down. "That'll keep Mom off your back. After that, if the two of you don't click, you don't have to go on another date. So, please? If not for you, then do it for me. I miss my big sister."
Deep breath in, deep breath out. "That's not playing fair," Morgan complained, but she had already relented. "If I do this, I don't want to hear another word about getting myself back out there. Deal?"
Livy chewed at her bottom lip, but when Morgan tried to walk off again, she clutched harder at her arm. "Alright! Alright, it's a deal. You do this, and I'll keep my nose out of it from here on out. But you have to actually try, okay?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll try."
"Wonderful, now, let's do something about you." Olivia let go of her arm and started fussing with her clothes.
Morgan tried to smack her hands away, but Livy was determined.
"At least the shirt is a good color. Makes your eyes look greener." Batting away Morgan's hands, Olivia undid a few of the buttons at the bottom of Morgan's long blouse, then tied the ends tightly together around her waist. Neither petite nor slender, it made Morgan feel awkward, but as she stood back, surveying her handiwork, Livy insisted it accentuated her waistline.
"The boots and tights were a good choice, makes your legs look even longer. But you should put your hair up since you didn't do anything with it."
"I'm glad you approve of something, at least." Morgan gave her sister a rueful smile, using the offered elastic to pull her hair into a quick ponytail. It wasn't quite so dark a black as Livy's, but had that same ashen shine of silver where the light hit it. "There, better?"
"Much," Livy was beaming and it made Morgan fidget. "You have such a long, elegant neck. You should show it off more."
"Yay, I am a giraffe. All neck and legs."
Livy only laughed at her teasing, utterly undeterred.
Morgan let Olivia lead them inside and over to a small table set to one side and covered with more excited signs for the speed dating event. Several women who looked like those overly excited cheerleaders Morgan had been thinking of before, were waiting with clipboards, pens, and an assortment of other items.
Morgan signed herself in, wrote down her contact information, and then was told to pick a nickname. Livy decided it should be 'Moe,' and one of the cheerleaders jotted it down on a name tag.
Finally, they gave her a scorecard and broke down the details of the evening: the Ladies were to pick a table and get comfortable, then the Gentlemen would visit the tables, where they would have three minutes to chat. When the bell rang, they'd move on to the next table. If she liked someone, Morgan was to jot down their nickname on her scorecard. At the end, everyone turned in their cards. If there was mutual interest, the organizers would provide each party with the other's contact information.
While the entire thing made Morgan feel awkward and uncomfortable, she had to admit that it was pretty well organized, and tried to put as little pressure and stress on the participants as possible. It didn't make her any less apprehensive, but it was better than what she had been imagining. She wouldn't have to turn down any awkward requests to get her name and her number.
Neither did she have to worry about being rejected if she tried to ask for the same herself. It freed up that short window of meeting each other to focus completely on making a good first impression. Morgan liked to think she was good at asking the right questions and getting the real answers. She'd just treat each date like it was an interview for an article she was writing.
"I'll be at the bar," Olivia leaned in to give Morgan a kiss on the cheek, breaking her train of thought. "I'll get a bite to eat and have a drink waiting for you, okay?"
"I'm sure I'll need it." Morgan offered up a smile she didn't really feel, but Livy had already snatched her purse and wandered off. She had to give her sister some credit, stealing her phone and her wallet did make it all that more difficult to bail.
Resigned to spending her evening answering inane questions about herself, Morgan found a table tucked toward the end of one row and put her back to the wall. It felt better to see everything, less like people were constantly creeping around behind her. There was a comfort in watching everyone that bolstered up her confidence, so it was extra annoying to catch herself chewing on her fingernails.
She sat back in her chair and put her hands in her lap, just to start tapping her score card against her knee in time with her quickening heartbeat. Morgan had expected to be annoyed, maybe even bored, but she was suddenly extremely nervous, and that started to make her feel irritable.
Small blessings being what they are, she was grateful when a waiter came by to see if she wanted a drink. There was a moment of panic when she remembered that Livy had her wallet, but that passed when the waiter told her she could open a tab. A bartender friend had once told her that people who ordered amaretto sours were "…that friend that didn't really want to be social, but went anyway because they couldn't say no and mean it." Maybe it was fitting that it was her go-to order.
While she waited for the event to begin, Morgan took in the festive, speakeasy atmosphere of Congress Street Up. It was a warm place, not bright but still filled with a steady, amber glow. The holiday decorations somehow fit right in with the old, brown brick and darkly stained wood that made up the bulk of the place's color palate. Deep green garlands that looked like evergreen branches were wrapped around posts and artfully draped from the ceiling in shallow arches, and accented with gold, red, and green ornaments that were just big enough to catch and throw light around. It worked so well that it made that background hum of clinking glasses, scrape of forks on plates, casual talk, and jovial laughter all feel more like the holidays than the seasonal music most places would probably be playing.
The more she observed, the calmer Morgan became. There were plenty of people milling around the tables that had been set apart for the speed dating event. Some were gathered in little groups and chatting. Others, like her, had already found a place to sit and wait while they nervously fidgeted and fussed. For the most part, people were smiling and laughing, and it became infectious. Morgan found herself smiling as well and feeling much lighter than before. There had to be some joke there about the Christmas spirit and she smirked at herself for thinking about it.
Her drink arrived just as the organizers began encouraging everyone to find their seats for their first date. The ladies found their tables quickly, and then the gentlemen began milling about, finding places to settle.
Morgan took a larger swallow than she probably should have, suddenly feeling a desperate need for the liquid courage. Despite how much she had enjoyed watching everyone before things began, Morgan found herself trying very hard to keep her eyes focused on the tabletop. All her apprehension had come right back and she was trying very hard not to make eye contact with anyone. Maybe, if she was really lucky, there wouldn't be enough of the guys to go around and she could just go unnoticed.
Morgan wasn't so lucky and she cursed under her breath when she glanced up and immediately locked eyes with someone who looked half her age. His smile was unsure as he made his way over to her, but it was open and honest. She offered him one in return, because it felt too rude not to.
"Hi, how's it goin?" he asked.
"Not sure yet, the night's only just begun." She held her hand out on instinct as he sat, and he awkwardly accepted. He held her hand like he might hurt her and Morgan almost felt bad for the firm shake she gave him. "Nice to meet you… Ride or Die?"
"Yeah," he blushed as he looked down at his nametag, but grinned. "It's what I'm looking for."
"What's that?" she asked. He looked confused, so Morgan tried again. "I mean, what are you looking for."
"My ride or die," he said as if that explained everything.
"And that is what?"
The look he gave her made Morgan feel like she had a suddenly grown an extra set of ears. There was one thing she could be thankful for, at least she wasn't anxious anymore. She chuckled and took another long drink, thinking that being a little drunk would at least make things fun.
Ride or Die was a college junior, a philosophy major, and didn't really have any plans for after he graduated. He was nice enough, but almost literally half her age. While she imagined her mother's reaction would be hilarious to witness, it felt too much like taking advantage of him.
Richie was next. He was in sales of some sort and seemed decent enough. But he traveled a lot and was looking for someone to hookup with whenever he was in Savanah. While part of Morgan liked the idea of a no-strings attached relationship, if she was looking for someone to drag to the family holiday gathering, it wouldn't be him.
Goober was fixated on Morgan's choice of musical preferences and trying to change them. Apparently steel guitar was far superior to regular acoustic when it came to making covers for old rock songs. Einstein decided he needed to correct her idea that journalism was a fitting career choice – apparently, he thought she'd make a much better secretary.
Black Friday was having a flash sale on the opportunity to go on quintuplet dates with his polycule. Morgan didn't have anything against the lifestyle, and was even a little amused imagining how she'd go about announcing to her family that she was dating four people – or wait, was it five? She wasn't all together clear on if she'd be the fifth or the sixth – all at once. But she barely had enough time in her life for herself. Making room and time in her life for four or five others sounded exhausting.
Hamster was very insistent that she needed to be passionate about the breeding and selling of hamsters. Not that it was critical to her life, but that it was very important if they were going to have a relationship. A 'must love hamsters,' instead of a 'must love dogs.' Then there were several decent men that were strongly interested in getting married and starting a family in the very near future. Any of them would make her mother overjoyed, but Morgan refused to use them, or to put herself into a relationship that was lightyears more serious than she wanted. Particularly given that she really didn't want one at all.
Morgan was starting drink number three when Simple Man walked up to the table, and then waited for her to look up at him. "May I sit?" he asked.
"It's why we're here, I think." Morgan had relaxed considerably. Though, to be honest, the heady buzz of alcohol might have had something to do with it. She reached out for what she expected to be another disappointing handshake, but was pleasantly surprised when he gripped her hand like she was there and present, and not some fragile thing that would crumple if he held on too tightly.
"Nice to meet you, Moe." He smiled as he sat and Morgan smiled back. "That a Stooges reference?"
"You could say that. I feel like one." Morgan chuckled and relaxed back into her seat while Simple Man got comfortable and settled. He was drinking a simple – straight and neat whiskey – by the looks of it, and Morgan wondered what his preferred whiskey was.
"Not here by choice?" he asked. Morgan hadn't expected him to pick up her meaning and his smile grew as her face warmed. "Then why come at all?"
"Because my sister can be very persuasive," was all she would admit to.
"Where do you really want to be?"
"At home," she sighed, but was smiling again. "Most likely with a book in hand. Or maybe watching a movie."
"What kind?"
"The book or the movie?"
"Why not both?"
Morgan paused to think about it, stalling while she studied him. She didn't think he was much taller than she was, about six feet or so. His beard was short and blond, but he was bald. His glasses were plain and seemed right at home perched halfway up his nose. Intense blue eyes were watching her closely, but he was utterly relaxed in his skin, just waiting for her to answer, or not, as she pleased. "Urban fantasy for the book, thriller for the movie."
"You like mysteries then?" he asked, and she smirked at him. "Enjoy puzzles, solving things before others do?"
"Something like that," she said. He was insightful and it made her curious. Morgan decided to be a little coy. "Might explain my profession of choice."
He thought about that for a moment, considering her the same way she'd just taken him in. "Don't tell me you're a PI working on behalf of my ex or something. That would ruin my night."
"Why?" he was teasing her, but she couldn't resist the asking. "Some reason you should feel guilty about something?"
"No," he grinned again. "It would just be a shame to think the only reason a gorgeous woman was talking to me was because she had some ulterior motive."
Morgan's face heated up more than she would have liked and she reached for her glass to hide behind taking another drink. Her eyes darted around the bar on the opposite end of the building, looking for Olivia, but she didn't spot her. She wondered if he knew, maybe had overheard them, then told herself that she was just being paranoid.
"What is your field?" he asked when she set her drink back down.
"I'm in journalism."
"Reporter?"
"Yes," she said. "Local, for the Tribune."
"So, I might know your work?"
"Not much to say about it so far," she admitted, surprised just how quickly she had relaxed back into the conversation. "Mostly the fluffy stuff. Haven't really earned the right to do what I want to do."
"And what's that?"
"Well," Morgan leaned forward to rest her arms on the table and Simple Man mirrored her posture. She noticed it and smirked at him again. "Clever man."
"Oh?" his eyebrows went up over an innocent look and she laughed. He smiled, but neither one of them moved away. The silence stretched and heat ran down Morgan's neck. Her heart was beating fast again and she could feel it fluttering against her ribs.
"Which meal is your favorite," she asked, "breakfast, lunch, or dinner?"
His lips twitched with the hint of a smirk, "You didn't answer my question."
"No," Morgan agreed, "I didn't. So, which meal is it?"
"Breakfast for dinner," he said. "Do you have a pet peeve?"
"Wet towels on the bathroom floor." She pretended to shudder and he chuckled. It was a warm, low rumble of sound that made her grin. "Do you eat the crusts on a sandwich or cut them off?"
"I eat them." His head tilted to one side, "why are your questions all about food? Did your mother tell you the fastest way to a man's heart was through his stomach?"
"Yes," Morgan smirked at him, "but my father told me the fastest way to a man's heart was through his ribcage."
He laughed again, louder that time, and drew in a few curious glances that neither of them noticed. "What position do you like to sleep in?"
"On my side."
"Which side?"
Morgan raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"
"Because I want to know if you'll be the little spoon or snuggled up facing my chest, obviously."
She smirked again. "On my right."
"Ah," he nodded and his smile grew, "little spoon."
"Do you snore?" she asked.
"I do, and loudly. You?"
"I have been told it's awful."
"So, we'll rattle the windows together." He chuckled again. Morgan was learning that she liked that sound. "What are you most passionate about?"
"A lot more than I should be, and all of it is a determent to my health."
One eye brow went up and his gaze focused more intently on her own. "I think you dodged that one."
"Did I?" Morgan smiled as innocently as she could manage. "I think I answered it very honestly."
The bell rang. The sound didn't really register until Simple Man leaned back into his chair, and then Morgan did the same. She didn't want him to leave, but couldn't manage to make herself say what she wanted to say.
"It was very nice meeting you, Moe," he said as he stood to hold out his hand. She reached for it without thinking and was surprised when he bent down to press a warm kiss against her knuckles. It was the most old-fashioned thing she'd ever seen someone do, but her heart stuttered and missed a beat.
"And you," Morgan agreed. He smiled at her again, and then walked away. She watched him go, shamelessly making a mental note about the width of his shoulders and how much she liked the way his butt looked in the relaxed cargo pants he wore. He took a seat at another table, and Morgan quickly jotted his name down before Stevie introduced himself and took a seat. The rest of the dates were a blur of names and faces that she lost track of quickly. Every now and then her eyes strayed to wherever Simple Man was sitting, but she never caught him looking her way.
Morgan enjoyed the company of a few other dates and made sure to write their names down, but when she turned in her card, she was still preoccupied with Simple Man. She was surprised to realize that, out of all the dates, she knew the least about him and yet found him to be the most interesting. He hadn't tried to sell her on why she should like him, or impress upon her the kind of person she needed to be in order to be acceptable to him. He'd just asked her things and answered whatever she'd thought to ask him.
He'd pointed out that she liked mysteries. Morgan smirked to herself and wondered if maybe he'd used that to his advantage or if she was over thinking the whole thing. She was still chewing on it when she finally made her way to the bar after a quick run to the lady's room. Olivia was nowhere to be found, but Morgan doubted she'd gotten very far and decided to pick a stool and wait. She wisely ordered herself some food and a Sprite instead of another drink. She was already well and thoroughly buzzed and didn't need to cross that line into thoroughly and annoyingly drunk. Being allowed an open tab during a stressful situation was dangerous.
"Hey, Morgan!"
For a moment there, she'd almost admitted to herself that she'd been feeling warm and happy. She'd almost even conceded that maybe Livy had been right after all, and that she'd actually enjoyed the evening. But that familiar voice wrapped around her name was a bucket of ice water to her good mood.
She looked up into the mirror behind the bar and saw him making his way to the bar. He was leading along a woman she didn't know, and her sister was right behind them and looking irritated. Morgan snatched off her name tag, crumpled it up in her hand, and quickly stuffed it into her pocket.
"Hey, haven't seen you outside of work in a while," Kenneth said, wrapping her up in a warm hug like they were old and dear friends. Morgan's stomach flipped. "I'm glad you're finally getting back on the market. What's it been now, almost three years?"
"Four, actually," Morgan pulled away, forced a smile, and tried to keep her tone polite. It was extra difficult to not point out that Christmas day was actually the anniversary of when she'd caught him in bed with her then-best friend, in her parent's house, in her bedroom.
"Long time," he agreed like he was commenting on the weather, and then wrapped one long arm over the shoulders of the redhead next to him. Kenneth was head and shoulders taller than Morgan, and Morgan was at least that much taller than the redhead. The woman looked absolutely tiny standing next to him. "I wanted to introduce you. This is Katherine, my fiancé."
It shouldn't have hurt to hear it, but the news was a brick in the bottom of Morgan's stomach for reasons she couldn't begin to understand. Still, she smiled and reached out to shake the woman's hand. "I hope you have better luck with him than I did."
Kenneth laughed as if it was actually a joke and not a pointed warning. "The one that got away, right?" He asked Morgan, and then looked down at the redhead. "We did pretty well together for a while."
"Must have been hard," Katherine said. "With your father and your fiancé being business partners and all."
"Yeah, it really was. Couldn't get away from him." Morgan spoke around a solid lump in her throat. If it hadn't been for Olivia staring her down, she just might have snapped. As it was, she barely managed to keep the ice out of her voice.
"We were both too focused on our careers," Kenneth said. Morgan hated him for the way he smiled at her. "I take it nothing has changed?"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Well, you're here alone, right?" Kenneth looked up and down the bar. "Last your mother and I spoke, she said you still weren't dating and spending even more time at the Tribune than usual."
"We're having a lady's night," Olivia tried to defend her sister, doing a much better job than Morgan at sounding like she was having a good time and enjoying the conversation.
Morgan opened her mouth to say something she was probably going to regret once she was sober, but the words died on her tongue. She watched as Simple Man walked by, behind Katherine, Kenneth, and Olivia. He didn't look her way; didn't even seem to know she was there.
A mad idea formed.
One she hoped she wouldn't have even thought of if she hadn't been intoxicated and desperate.
Some part of her screamed not to do it, but before she even realized she had made up her mind, she was saying: "It started out as a lady's night, but my fiancé was able to get out of work early. He should be here shortly. Livy, you see him yet?"
Olivia tried very hard to look calm, but Morgan could see the panicked questions behind her eyes. "No, not yet."
"What's he look like?" Kenneth turned to look around, using his height advantage and looking out over the crowd to try and judge who Morgan was talking about.
"Ah, there he is," Morgan pushed past them all to walk further down the bar to where Simple Man had just sat down. He was speaking to the bartender when she reached him, but turned to look at her when she stopped beside him.
"Hey, Moe," he said with a smile. His eyebrows raised when she reached up to frame his face in her hands, but he didn't resist her pulling him in. He let her kiss him without kissing her back at first, then his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her in close.
Morgan had planned to give him a fairly chaste kiss, but he deepened it into something that made her warmer and dizzier than the alcohol had.
She was breathless when he finally lifted his head to grin down at her. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"
"So, this is him?" Kenneth said as he, Katherine, and Livy all came up to them. He sounded uncomfortable, and while Morgan liked that, she'd lost the time to try and explain.
Simple Man, for his part, looked up at Kenneth, and then back at Morgan. "Who's this?"
"My ex," she said. Simple Man's eyebrows went up again and Morgan's throat worked around a dry swallow, but she put on a smile and plowed ahead. "He was just introducing me to his fiancé, so I thought he should meet mine."
"Ah-ha." For several long seconds, Simple Man just stared down at her. Then – finally – a wide smile split across his face and he unwrapped one arm from around Morgan to hold his hand out to Kenneth. "Mason, pleased to meet you…?"
"Kenneth." They shook hands and he winced. "Quite the handshake you have there."
"Eh, sorry about that," Simple Man – Mason – looked down at his hand. "I'm a volunteer firefighter, part time EMT. Gotta keep your strength up."
"What got you into that?" Katherine asked.
"I was a combat medic in the Army," Mason shrugged. "Seemed to make sense."
"Ah. Making the same old mistakes." Kenneth suddenly looked much more pleased as he turned his attention back to Morgan.
Mason looked at her as well. "What mistakes might those be?"
"Conflicting life schedules," Kenneth supplied. "Morgan never was very good at making room for the people in her life."
Mason waited a tick, and when Morgan didn't immediately provide her own answer, he gave her a little squeeze to get her talking. "I spent too much time at work, never had enough time for anyone else."
"Kenny was dissatisfied with you because you didn't make yourself available to him often enough?" Mason asked her. There was a quiet kind of intensity in him that was both thrilling and intimidating, and she couldn't tell if he was making her heart beat faster or slower.
"It's Kenneth," he groused.
Mason ignored him. He was still watching Morgan.
"Among other things," she admitted stiffly.
"What other things?"
Morgan felt her face turn hot again, and this time Mason's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "Really?" His arm tightened around her again. "He was dissatisfied with this body?"
"She never took care of herself," Kenneth argued, earning cutting looks from Olivia and Katherine both.
Mason just chuckled, then looked up at Kenneth again. "Obviously, you're a fool."
"I think we should go," Katherine tugged at Kenneth's arm, cutting off whatever he'd been about to say. She smiled at Morgan. "It was nice meeting you."
"Yeah," Morgan agreed, too stunned to say much else.
"See you at the Christmas party," Livy called after the pair as they left, then turned her attention back to her sister. "So, are you going to introduce me, or do I have to do that myself?"
"This is my sister, Olivia." Morgan started to relax again, but Mason still hadn't let her go, and she was leaning against him a little awkwardly.
"The persuasive one, I take it?" He grinned at her and Livy beamed.
"I usually get my way, yes."
"I'm glad you did," Mason's attention moved back to Morgan and she couldn't seem to resist meeting his gaze. "It's worked out really well for me. Did I hear that right? We're engaged now?"
"You do know he's gonna blab that to our mother, right?" Olivia started to chuckle about it, then slowly started to look worried. "Shit. He's gonna tell mom."
"Ah, hell," Morgan hadn't thought that far ahead.
"Your ex keeps up with your mom?" Mason asked.
"Yeah," Morgan squirmed a little uncomfortably. His grip loosened a little to let her move, but he still didn't let her go. "We were engaged."
"So?" he looked genuinely perplexed and Morgan laughed.
"Mom set them up," Livy told him. "Our Dad runs a small physical therapy practice, and Kenneth over there is in general medicine with his own office. They partnered up back when Ken's dad was still alive, recommending each other to patients, that sort of thing."
"And running charity events… like mom's annual Christmas party." Morgan added.
"I think I get the picture," Mason said. "My mom's been difficult about me getting back with my ex-wife. They like to think they know best, don't they?"
"You were married?" Morgan asked. She was honestly curious but blushed when he raised his eyebrows at her again.
"Yeah, I was."
"How'd it end?" Olivia asked. She didn't look the least bit repentant about it when he looked at her.
"I wasn't around enough," Mason shrugged. "Deployment is rough on everyone in different ways. It was too much for her."
"And now?"
"Livy, ease up," Morgan fussed.
"Now what?" Mason asked.
"Still in the army? Likely to be deployed again?"
"No," Mason chuckled again. "Honorably discharged. Not because I was done, but because I caught some shrapnel in my left knee and it was highly advised that I be done anyway."
"I'm sorry that happened," Morgan said.
Mason smiled at her. "I'm not. If it hadn't happened, I wouldn't have been here to get that kiss."
Morgan turned red all over again and Olivia laughed. "He makes a good point."
"I manage it from time to time."
"You'll manage it a lot less with Morgan."
"Morgan?" he looked at her again and grinned. "I like that better than Moe."
"I might like Simple Man better than Mason," she teased, pleased when his grin grew. "It suits you."
"Does it?"
"I think so, yes."
"So…" Olivia got both of them looking at her again. "What I am hearing is, first and foremost, that I was entirely right and you are going to apologize for doubting me. And next, that Mason is totally okay with coming to the Christmas party and pretending to be your fiancé so long as he gets some more kisses?"
Mason's grin turned wicked. "I think I could be convinced. Could certainly spend my time doing much worse."
Morgan laughed, the sound so full and honest it almost felt alien. She hadn't felt so light or so happy for so long that she wasn't sure how to take it. Mason must have noticed something because the arm still looped around her waist tightened up again.
"Fair trade?" Olivia pressed, so far into match-maker mode that there was no turning back.
"I think we can work out a deal," Morgan agreed. "But we'll haggle the details when I'm sober."
"Does that mean I get your number?" Mason asked.
Morgan laughed again, and before she realized what she was doing, leaned in for another kiss. His arms went right back around her and tugged her in close while her own settled over his shoulders. Really, she thought, anyone that believed speed dating was a dumb idea, but was too busy to date properly, shouldn't be so picky. After all, love can happen in the blink of an eye if you give it a chance.
Particularly during the holidays.
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