Page 76 of A Match Made In Fall

It’s cool watching two of the most important people in my life connect.

Since Isabella is busy, I reluctantly pick up an empty box and begin filling it. Packing is still the last thing I want to be doing, but at least some progress is being made.

“Hi, Ivy,” Isabella says suddenly. “Oh, you’re so sweet. Thank you.”

Of course. Now Logan has passed the phone over to his fiancée.

Poor Isabella. Ivy can carry on a conversation longer than anyone I’ve ever met, and there’s no stopping her. I briefly consider rescuing Isabella, but judging by the smile on her face, she seems perfectly happy to continue chatting.

“Yes, the recovery is moving along,” Isabella says. “Not as quickly as I’d like, but that’s part of the process.”

She pauses to listen.

“Yes, I promise Austin’s helping,” she says, shooting me an amused look. “Well…he’s helping now. He’s packing a box as we speak.”

“Hey,” I protest. “I’ve been working all day—sort of.”

Her familiar laugh fills the room, and it instantly hits me just how much I’m going to miss seeing her every day. Even with the move feeling more real by the hour, I’ve been trying not to think about that part.

“It was great talking to both of you,” she says. “I’ll put Austin back on.”

I take the phone from her. “Hey. Are you done talking about me?”

“You need to marry her,” Ivy shouts without missing a beat.

Heat floods my face, and I quickly move to the kitchen, hoping Isabella didn’t hear that.

“Hello to you too, Ivy.”

“She’s so sweet, and she said we can go see Ballroom Dance America,” she exclaims. “You need to give me her number.”

I roll my eyes even though they can’t see me.

“She’s cool,” Logan adds. “So upbeat and funny. It’s a shame you’re leaving.”

Ha, he has no idea. “Yes, it is.”

“Did you invite her to the wedding yet?” Logan asks.

“No. I’ve been a little busy.”

“So you’re saying the trade, moving across the country, and your girlfriend are more important than your brother’s wedding? That hurts.”

I laugh. “Yep, sorry about that.”

“Well, you need to invite her, or I will,” Ivy demands.

“I’d listen to her if I were you,” Logan tells me. “She’s the bride. And the bride knows best.”

“You don’t need to do that. I’ll take care of it,” I say with a chuckle.

“Good. I can’t wait to meet her,” Ivy says. “Good job, Austin.”

Before I can think of a response to that, the doorbell rings.

“Dinner is served,” Isabella calls.

“I need to go. Our pizza is here.”