A table in the back corner erupted with movement. She recognized Bear as he stood to his feet, an easy grin splitting his face, one hand raised in a wave that seemed to encompass the entire bar.
“There he is!” Bear crossed the distance between them in deliberate strides and clapped Lincoln on the shoulder hard enough to rock him forward. “I was starting to think you’d turned into a complete hermit.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“You’re always busy. That’s not an excuse anymore.” Bear’s attention shifted to Morgan, and his expression softened. “Hi, Morgan. You look better than the last time I saw you.”
“I think I was mostly unconscious the last time you saw me.”
“Exactly. Big improvement.”
She almost laughed. Almost.
They followed Bear back to the corner, where the others had arranged themselves around a scarred wooden table. Morgan cataloged them automatically—Bear sitting down next to a woman with dark brown hair who was already pushing a basket of fries toward the center of the table.
Derek, whom she also vaguely remembered from the rescue, had his arm draped around a slender blonde who was stealing his beer while maintaining a completely innocent expression. Then Theo, who sat beside a woman who was sketching something on a napkin while half listening to the conversation around her.
“Morgan, this is my fiancée, Joy.” Bear gestured to the dark-haired woman, who immediately shoved the fry basket closer to Morgan’s side of the table.
“You need to eat something. You’re too thin. Not judging—just observing. Also, the sweet potato fries here are terrible. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Only get the regular.”
“Dang, Bug. She hasn’t even sat down yet.” Bear wrapped his arm around her.
Joy shrugged. “I’m being helpful. Pregnancy has made my taste buds even more discerning.”
Morgan smiled. “Congratulations.”
Joy just beamed.
Derek was next, raising his beer in her direction. “Good to see you vertical. This is Becky. My wife.”
Evidently, these two had been married twice. Morgan would still like to understand that.
The blonde smiled. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Well—” She tilted her head. “I’ve heard Lincoln’s version, which was mostly facts and time stamps. Derek filled in the emotional subtext.”
“I’m a translator,” Derek said. “It’s a skill.”
“I promise I’m more interesting than facts and time stamps,” Morgan said.
Becky’s mouth curved. “Good. Because Lincoln’s version made you sound like a case file. I’m glad there’s an actual person attached.”
The woman beside Theo looked up from the napkin where she’d been absently sketching what looked like a fox. “I’m Eva. Theo’s wife. You’ve met Theo.” She pointed to the man beside her.
“Good to see you up and out.” Theo dipped his chin and Morgan reciprocated.
“Don’t let them overwhelm you.” Eva suddenly continued. “They mean well, but they have no volume control.”
“I heard that,” Joy said.
“You were meant to.”
“Scoot around,” Bear said, and the table rearranged itself to make room for two additional people. Morgan found herself sitting in a chair next to Eva, with Lincoln settling beside her. His shoulder pressed against hers, solid and steady.
They just made room.
She’d expected the moment of awkward adjustment—the careful maneuvering around someone new, the surface-level pleasantries that never went deeper. She’d expected tofeel like an intrusion. A disruption in a pattern that had existed long before she arrived.
Instead, the conversation simply expanded to include her. Joy pushed the fries directly in front of Morgan and asked about her tea preferences in the same breath. Becky and Derek were apparently in a long-running argument about bookshelf organization, and Becky immediately recruited Morgan as backup. Eva caught Morgan’s eye and mouthedjust go with itas she rolled her eyes.
