Chapter 8

Wyatt stood waiting for Morgan, holding the door for her while she juggled a box of chocolate-covered eclairs and fresh-from-the-bakery croissants she’d picked up on her way over.

He reached for the treats and sneaked in a kiss. “You’re looking well-rested.”

“I slept like a baby. Chester and I were both thrilled to be in our own bed. Or more accurately, I was happy to be in my own bed and Chester was determined to hog more than half.”

“And I’m happy you’re home.” Wyatt motioned toward the kitchen. “When is your next round of property visits?”

“They’re once a quarter, which means probably sometime in January.”

“Too bad the properties weren’t somewhere warmer,” he joked.

“Right?”

Wyatt placed the box next to the stove. “I hope ham and cheese omelets are okay.”

“They sound delish.” Morgan squeezed in next to him. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Pour some orange juice and I’ll fix our plates.”

“It’s a deal.” She grabbed glasses from the kitchen cabinet and a container of juice from the fridge. “How was your shift last night?”

“Slow. The fall tourists seem to come and go. Thanksgiving will pick up a little and so will Christmas. After the holidays, it will be nice and quiet until spring.”

Morgan set the glasses on the table. “It seems so long ago when Quinn and I were learning to drive, doing donuts in the grocery store’s parking lot. Grady came by and told us we had to stop.”

“You’re an old pro now. Driving on snow and ice is like riding a bike.”

“I hope so.” Morgan eased a croissant onto the edge of her plate and settled in at the kitchen table.

Wyatt followed suit and took the seat next to her. He reached for her hand and kissed the top. “Have I told you how much I missed you?”

“Maybe a time or two.”

Their eyes met, and Morgan’s heart fluttered. “I missed you too.”

“I bet Chester was bouncing off the walls when he saw you walk through the door.”

“He was pretty excited and has been sticking close by my side.”

“Not letting you out of his sight, I’m sure.” Wyatt changed the subject. “Have you heard from Quinn?”

“Yesterday.” While they ate, Morgan filled him in on what Quinn had said. “On the one hand, this is a dream job. It would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, setting her up to move into the position of a gallerist.”

“Although I appreciate art, I don’t know much about the field. What exactly does a gallerist do?”

“She would be responsible for deciding what to exhibit, dealing directly with artists, picking out what pieces to show, stuff along those lines.”

“Isn’t that what she’s already doing?”

Morgan thought about it. “Yeah, but on a larger, more prestigious scale. It would open doors for Quinn to work at any gallery she chose, maybe even places like the Louvre in Paris.”

He let out a low whistle. “So, I’m guessing she’s going to take it.”

“I don’t know. She insists she loves Easton Island.”

“But…”

“You know the story. She left to escape the Easton family drama.”

“True. Although she brought some of it on herself by siding with Brett and accusing you of being selfish,” Wyatt reminded her.

“I wasn’t very nice to her, either, although we’ve both apologized.” Morgan cut off a generous slice of her omelet and took a big bite. “This is delicious.”

“Thanks. I put a lot of love into it,” he teased.

“I can taste it.” Morgan, who knew Wyatt loved to cook, was already working on a special Christmas gift, a cooking class with a renowned chef she knew he admired. The chef booked out months in advance. Being persistent and not giving up, she’d managed to snag a spot after he’d gotten a cancellation.

“How is biz at the B&B?”

“Slow.” Morgan told him about the Sunday open house Ronni had planned to drum up business. “It seems like a great idea. We’ll see if it pans out.”

The couple finished their meal and cleared the table. Working together, they loaded the dishwasher and then Wyatt poured fresh coffee, carrying the mugs out to his three-season porch.

Thick, dark clouds filled the morning sky. Wyatt called them winter clouds. Morgan called them depressing. Michigan had its share of gloomy days and even more of them late in the season and during the winter months, something she was still trying to get used to.

He waited for her to settle in and pulled his chair closer. The angle gave them an unobstructed view of his driveway and a partial view of the street.

“So…” Morgan fiddled with the handle of her cup. “You mentioned yesterday when you picked me up at the airport you had something you wanted to talk about.”

“I do.”

“I think I already know what it is,” she said. “But go ahead and tell me.”

“Amber is here.”

“She is. I saw her yesterday. She and Naomi Renaud met up in front of the art gallery when I was there.” Morgan studied Wyatt’s face. “Has she shown up on your doorstep again?”

“No.” Wyatt averted his gaze, which told her there was something else.

“But…” she prompted.

“I’ve seen her around, and I know where she’s staying.”

“Within walking distance of here,” Morgan said.

A flicker of surprise flitted across his face. “How do you know?”

“Because I mentioned her to Ariel yesterday and wondered where she was staying. Clearly, she didn’t book another stay at Locke Pointe. As luck would have it, Ariel has a friend who handles Easton Harbor rentals. She gave me the address. Grandmother, Mrs. Arnsby and I did a drive by last night after dinner.”

Wyatt frowned. “You’re stalking Amber?”

“Stalking Amber?” Morgan’s jaw dropped. “More like she’s stalking you and working overtime to annoy me.”

“Maybe it was a coincidence she and Naomi were standing outside the gallery while you were there. I mean, it is on the main street.”

Morgan stared at him. “Are you defending her?”

“No, but I am trying to remain rational.”

She could feel the tips of her ears burn. “You’re insinuating I’m overreacting?”

“All I’m saying is it could have been a coincidence.”

Morgan silently counted to ten, forcing herself to remain calm. “Do you think it’s a coincidence she rented a place within walking distance?” She almost mentioned the fact Amber was driving a vehicle identical to Morgan’s SUV, but decided to keep quiet about the tidbit of information, at least for the time being.

“Easton Island rentals are few and far between. I don’t know Amber’s situation, but if she was looking for a place to rent, she couldn’t be too picky.”

“I see.” Morgan finished the rest of her coffee and slowly stood. “I should get going. I have some errands to run this morning. Thank you for breakfast.”

Wyatt shoved his chair back. “You’re upset.”

“I am. And I believe you would be too if you were in my shoes. Amber has made it clear her intentions toward you. I believe she chose the rental she did to be close to you, maybe even to spy on you.”

“I hope you’re wrong. Look…” Wyatt set his cup on the table and pulled Morgan into his arms. “Please don’t be angry or upset. You trust me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. I love you.”

Morgan placed her head on Wyatt’s chest. “I don’t mean to be suspicious or act jealous. I just don’t trust her.”

“Neither do I.” Wyatt lifted her chin, tenderly kissing her lips. The kiss deepened. All thoughts of Amber and her antics were far from her mind.

Finally, Wyatt stepped back. “You okay?”

“I’m okay.” Morgan ran a light hand across his cheek. “But if Amber makes a move on my man, she and I are going to have a chat.”

“Don’t do anything that’ll put you in jail again.”

Morgan chuckled, remembering her short stint behind bars and Wyatt being the cop who put her there. “I promise, I won’t touch her, won’t threaten her with bodily harm, although I will make sure I get my point across.”

“I’m sure you will. Hopefully, it won’t come to that.” Wyatt walked her to her SUV and waited for her to climb in. “You mentioned the open house at Locke Pointe.”

“Sunday, starting at two.”

“If I get a chance, I’ll swing by and say ‘hi.’”

“I would like that.” Morgan leaned out the open window and kissed him. “Maybe we can hang out with Grady and Grace soon.”

“Grady and I were talking about planning a double date the other day.” Wyatt promised he would get with his close friend and fellow officer, Grady MacDonald, and let her know what they came up with.

Morgan drove off, intentionally going in the opposite direction of Amber’s rental. An uneasiness settled over her. Wyatt might not want anything to do with his ex, but Morgan knew without a doubt, the woman did not share the same feelings. She suspected their little “chat” would happen sooner rather than later.