Page 51 of The Spy Ring

She shook her head laughing before growing serious. “Grandma’s RVing again. She’s in the Upper Peninsula now. She promised she would be back for the wedding and told me she had a big surprise for me she wants to give me before the wedding.”

“Let me guess, a female blowup doll?” Aria chuckled.

Morgana’s grandmother, despite much evidence to the contrary, believed Morgana was a lesbian. Actually, it wasn’t so much belief, more like intense desperation. She wanted Morgana to be a lesbian so she could prove to her knitting group that she had a diverse family. There was some fierce competition in that knitting group.

“I don’t know. I just hope she doesn’t interrupt the wedding when the minister asks if there is anyone that has reasons why the bride and groom should not be married to speak now or forever hold their peace,” Morgana said as she grabbed a scone.

“I’m sure it will be a nice gift. She does love you,” I said having met the woman at a dinner Henrik had a few weeks after their engagement.

“Enough about me, how about that kiss,” Morgana said wiggling her eyebrows.

“It was just a kiss,” I said and it felt like the biggest lie of my life.

It wasn’t just a kiss. When he touched my lips, my toes curled and heat crawled into crevices I never imagined I had. The potency burned and his tongue had yet to leave his mouth. I felt sure that kiss had the capacity to produce an orgasm. Because if David hadn’t called, I might have climaxed, standing half on my gray rug and half on the wood floor. I relished every second of that off-kilter kiss.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Blackburn. But understand that safety is fine, but risk is the only thing that will bring reward,” Evaleen said.

There was silence again.

“Edgar has been rubbing off on you. Either that or this pregnancy has changed you,” Morgana said.

“And how have I changed?” Evaleen narrowed her eyes at Morgana making me believe there was plenty of the old Evaleen around.

“You’re more . . . uh, how do I say this without sounding like a jerk?” Morgana tapped her chin.

“You’re squishier,” Aria added.

“What?” Evaleen said before snorting.

“You know, softer . . . with emotion. I think you’re still badass, but your kickass-ness has some suppleness to it.” Aria nodded, satisfied with her response.

“Now that’s settled. Blackburn, you need to talk to him. Even if it’s to say goodbye.” Evaleen reached over and placed her hand on mine.

“You’re right. It had been so long since a kiss happened to me. Afterward, I thought, well, I thought a million different things. None of them good. And in any of my thoughts, not once did he let me know that he wanted me. That he might want more.”

Aria growled and everyone sitting at the table, and a few others nearby, turned to look at her.

She lifted her finger and pointed at me. “No. No, you don’t. Tiffany, you are gorgeous. You are stronger than any of us. Sorry, Evaleen, you might be badass, but Tiffany has the inner strength of twenty buffalo.”

Evaleen nodded. “It’s true. As Dixon pointed out earlier, I’m squishy. But seriously, Blackburn, how you managed to handle losing your husband the same night you almost lost your son, it’s humbling that you made it through without losing your mind. And on top of that, you have spent the last decade being your son’s body, his voice, his caregiver, and his only parent. I’m nothing compared to that.”

She squeezed my hand as the tears began to roll down my cheeks.

“I hated you when I first met you,” Morgana said, and I glanced up to find her reaching for my other hand.

“You were beautiful and nice and were hanging on the arm of the man I wanted. I’m ashamed to say it, but I took my anger for how Henrik ran from me and directed it to you. But it took less than an hour when I sat with you during one of our first SWIM Meets to realize I could never hate you. You’re the person every woman wants to be.”

I knew my face was a mess with tears and I had to let go of Evaleen and Morgana’s hands to grab a tissue in my purse.

“I thought this was Morgana’s day?” I said in between sobs.

“No, Tiffany, it’s our day. I wanted my bridal shower to be us ladies. You three have been here with me through all the ups and downs with Henrik. It wouldn’t feel like a bridal shower if I wasn’t celebrating my ladies!” Morgana said and then stood. She started to shake her hips as if something more contemporary than Mozart was playing.

“I’m afraid there’s no dancing here, miss.” A server rushed over and spoke directly to Morgana, “If you insist on dancing, I must ask you to leave.”

Morgana turned toward the short man with matching red hair. “Fine. We’ll just take it to my room. Send your best champagne to the Eternity Suite.”

The man’s eyes widened as he stood a little taller. “Of course. Right away.”

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