Ben tipped his hand back and forth. She seems a little…quiet. I guess I don’t know her well enough to have an opinion. Hopefully, she’s not trouble with a capital ‘T’.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Morgan looked around. “Is Jax here?”
“He’s in his workshop.”
She thanked him and trekked across the parking area.
Thud. Clunk.Loud noises echoed as she drew closer.
She stepped inside Jax’s spacious shop filled with an array of gadgets and gizmos. Shiny red toolboxes, some of them taller than Morgan, lined the back wall. A long, low butcher block counter sat in the center of the room, while racks of bins and baskets, filled with everything from drill bits to door locks, hung on the corkboard wall. It reminded Morgan of an old-fashioned variety store that sold a little of everything.
Jax stood at a small counter on the other side of the room, his back to her.
“Hey, Jax.”
He pivoted, his eyes lighting when he noticed her standing there. “Morgan.”
She hovered in the doorway. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“Not at all.” He set the screwdriver on the counter, giving her his full attention. “I was finishing up. Elizabeth has already told you we were finally able to locate Jason. He’s in Florida, at least he was.”
“She did. Thank you for the update. I would like to say I’m relieved to know he’s a thousand miles away from me, but to be honest, he could be on our doorstep in a matter of hours.”
“Agreed. I forwarded the investigator’s price sheet, including his hourly rates if you want to continue tracking Jason. He’s not cheap.”
“Nope.” Morgan wrinkled her nose. “As much as I would like to keep tabs on Jason, I can’t afford to have this guy follow my ex around forever.”
“I hesitate to tell you what to do, but to be honest, you’re right. Unfortunately, Jason is a free man. We can’t stop him from going wherever he wants, including Easton Island.”
“Even with the restraining order in place, no law can stop him,” Morgan said. “I guess the best thing to do is for me to stay alert.”
“And armed,” Jax added. “You could continue staying at Wyatt’s place.”
“He’s offered, and I appreciate it, but I’m ready to go home. As crazy as this may sound, I refuse to let Jason run my life and for me to live in fear.”
“It’s not crazy, or stupid.”
Morgan crossed her arms, casually leaning her hip against the door. “How are you and Ronni?”
“Fine. Why do you ask?”
“I take my role as matchmaker seriously,” she teased. “I have a vested interest.”
Jax started to say something and abruptly stopped.
“What?”
“I’m working on a project, but you can’t tell her.”
“I won’t breathe a word.”
Jax led her around the butcher-block countertop to a bench in the corner. A thick blue tarp covered a bulky frame. He slowly removed the tarp, revealing a coat rack with slots near the top to hang keyrings. Carved out inside the wooden frame was an oval bronze-colored medallion.
Morgan squinted her eyes and studied the metal artwork—a cottage overlooking a garden. “Is this…”
“Wisteria Way Cottage, Ronni’s home. I’ve almost finished it.”
She ran her fingers along the smooth metal, admiring the details, identical to the actual cottage, right down to the rocking chairs on the front porch. “This is so cool. Ronni will love it.”
