Page 24 of Living for Truth
I’m about to respond, but Morgan cuts me off, “I think she looks lovely and comfortable. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Layton. I’m Morgan Fowler.”
My dad’s mouth is agape. “MorganFowler? Like, the former wide receiver for the Denver Mustangs, Morgan Fowler? Owner of Fowler’s Flowers?”
“One and the same, Mr. Layton.” Morgan’s cheeks turn a tinge pink at the attention. I didn’t know he played football, and I sure as hell didn’t know he played professionally.
“Please, call me Mitch. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you right away! Shame your career ended because of that injury. They haven’t won a Super Bowl since you retired,” my dad continues.
Morgan shrugs. “It happened at the right time for me. I was planning on retiring after that season anyway, so it worked out well for me and my daughter.”
My mom’s head whips towards Morgan. “You have a daughter?”
“Yes, ma’am. Alyssa—she’s nine and the light of my life.” Morgan’s so proud of his daughter. Ilove that about him. She’s not some dirty secret or shameful thing.
“How… interesting,” Mom says, evidently unhappy with that tidbit of information. I also don’t think she likes that Morgan has my dad’s stamp of approval because he played football.
“How did a man like you end up with my daughter?” my dad asks. I know he didn’t necessarily mean for it to sound like an insult, but the way he words it makes me want to crawl into a hole. Like it’stotallyimpossible for a guy like Morgan to be remotely interested in me.
“I own Fowler’s Flowers, and Hannah came in to grab a bouquet. It was an instant connection.” Morgan looks at me with a soft expression, and I give him a small smile in return.
“Hmm. You own a flower shop?” Mom asks, her voice full of disdain.
I don’t know what stick crawled up her ass, but if she’s going to continue to give Morgan an attitude, I’m going to riot.
Dad, oblivious as usual to Mom’s mood, pipes up, “That’s where I got your flowers from, Shelly. I’ve been wanting to check it out and meet Morgan since they did that story when the shop first opened. It was all over the news a few years ago.” He turns back to Morgan. “I don’t buy flowers much but thought I would this year for Shelly, use it as a chance to finally check it out. I was so disappointed I got stuck in a meeting and had to ask Hannah to pick them up. Guess I should be patted on the back instead, huh?” Dad nudges my mom’s shoulder playfully, and she just shoots him a glare.
“I’ll forever be grateful Hannah was the one to pick them up.” Morgan checks his watch. “Well, it was nice to meet both of you, and I hate to cut this short, but we have a reservation to keep. I promise to bring Hannah back in one piece.”
“Bye, guys. No need to wait up,” I say with a small wave.
Just as we make it to the door, my mom shouts, “Remember, Hannah. The Holy Ghost goes to bed at midnight.”
God, I haven’t heard her say that to me since I was a teenager.
When we make it to Morgan’s green RAV4, he opens my door for me and helps me in. Once he’s settled in the driver’s seat, he turns to me with a puzzled grin. “What was that about?”
“The ghost thing?”
“Yeah, the ghost thing.”
“When you get baptized into the church, you get ‘the gift of the Holy Ghost,’ which is supposed to be like your conscience, essentially. Apparently this ghost goes to bed at midnight, so it can’t help you make good choices after that.” It’s actually pretty embarrassing having to explain that phrase to someone. It’s something I grew up with, so I’ve never thought about how weird it is.
Morgan laughs, loud, uninhibited, and so joyful it sends goosebumps skittering up my arms. It’s contagious, and soon I’m laughing too as he pulls out of the driveway.
“That’s weird as hell, Han. But also absolutely hilarious,” Morgan says, shaking his head.
“Yeah, a lot of things Mormons say or do are. Or just plain creepy.” I try to ignore the flutter in my belly at the nickname he used so easily. I also try to ignore the way his arm flexes as he puts his car into the right gear. I try to ignore howbighis hands are on the gear shift.
I fail at all of those things.
It’s going to be a long night if I’m already this flustered.
Chapter 10
Morgan
Ifeel like a kid on Christmas morning as we make our way to Salt Lake. I know it’stechnicallya fake date since we’re just trying to get her mom off her back. I’m going to treat this as a real date though and use this as an opportunity to show her how she deserves to be treated.
Even though this is fake, my nerves and excitement are real. How could I not be nervous when the girl of my dreams is sitting in my passenger seat looking like a vision?
