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Chapter Thirteen

MURPH

“All fuelled up,” I tell Eden, dropping the empty gas can into my boat.

Eden gasps from the doorway into the living quarters. “I can run the engine again? Oh, god. Hot showers!”

I frown at him. Hot water is a basic requirement of a home. “Have you been taking cold showers this whole time?”

Eden waves off the question. “Thank you for fixing up my engine. I’m just glad it’s good to go.” He beams at me like I just performed brain surgery.

My frown only deepens. “ Good is a strong word. So is go .”

“Any boat that floats is a good boat,” Eden chirps.

I sigh as I close the hatch in the deck. Every time I look at this damn boat, I find something else on its last legs. I’m gathering a list of parts, but I’ll have to sneak on board to fix things up, or he’ll get all effusive and starry-eyed.

I’m worried that he’s going to be so stubborn that he’ll get into serious trouble out here. All I want is to do the right thing… and keep him safe.

“You can shower at my place anytime,” I can’t resist adding. I know he’s going to take the excuse to be dirty, but I hope he at least takes note that I’m serious.

Eden giggles. “Oh, believe me. If I come to your place, I’ll be even more in need of cold showers.” But he’s got that stubborn, prideful look on his face again, like he’s trying to prove something—to me, or himself, or the world. Maybe all three.

I’m not trying to undermine his life choices. I just wish he’d let me take care of him a little bit more. I’ll let it go for now… but I’m not done with this.

“It’s beautiful out here,” I tell him instead.

Eden emerges onto the deck to look at our view of Nanaimo harbour, lit up by the sun sinking over the mountains beyond. He drapes himself along the railing, shifting his weight to one foot and popping his hip.

Fuck me.

Eden isn’t even trying to be sexy on purpose, which makes it all the hotter. He really is entranced by the sunset—and I’m spellbound by Eden, silhouetted against the darkening sky.

I walk as softly as I can to join him at the railing, taking the chance to drink him in.

The evening isn’t yet dark enough to hide all the unnecessary rivets and fake pockets on his cute little short-shorts. His silky black shirt is unbuttoned very low—almost to his belly button—and I can’t resist peeking at the bare skin on show. There’s a glow in Eden’s eyes as he watches the spectacular sunset, and it makes me smile. He looks so at home here, on the waters I’m so proud to call home.

Thank you, atmospheric conditions. You really did me a solid today.

“Wow,” Eden murmurs, turning toward me. “You couldn’t buy this view with all the money in the world. But here it is. Ours.”

I swallow hard, staring even more openly as the light catches Eden’s soft lips. His gaze flicks down to my mouth, too, and the tip of his tongue darts out, making me shiver.

God. I just want to grab Eden by the waist and kiss him… but I’ve still got gasoline on my hands. And if I start kissing him now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.

“Yeah. I—I better wash up,” I force the words out of my mouth. “Before I ruin your shirt.”

Eden’s lips curve into one of those mischievous smiles of temptation. “Oh yeah? Is that a promise?”

An electric jolt of yes yes yes is running through my whole body.

My gaze wanders slowly up and down his body as I make a point of looking up over, head to toe. My palms tingle with the desire to grab him around the waist, and my knee wants to push its way between his thighs, and my lips want to press kisses into the curve of his neck until his knees melt…

For once, Eden’s the first to blush and look away.

“Uh… the bathroom’s inside, obviously,” he says with a nervous giggle, nodding at the door into the cabin.

Huh. That’s interesting.

“First door on the left. When you’re ready, please join me…” he pauses as if checking that I’m paying attention. I wait patiently as he clears his throat and straightens up to finish his announcement. “On the bow .”

“The bow,” I repeat with a mystified blink. I was expecting something more dramatic.

“The bow,” he repeats himself, grinning proudly. “As opposed to where we are right now, which is the stern. And that way is port, and that’s starboard. Wait.” He holds up both hands, makes “L” shapes with his fingers, and then points at the left. “ That way is port.”

Then he looks up at me, beaming in expectation. It’s cute as hell, I have to admit. I hold back my smile and shake my head at his dramatics. “I see you’re studying up.”

Eden nods eagerly. He doesn’t say anything yet, just bouncing up and down on his toes.

“You’re… are you waiting for me to compliment you?”

It’s hard to tease Eden when he’s always two steps ahead, and I think I just fell into another of his traps. Right on cue, he widens those pretty eyes, leans against the railing, and pouts up at me.

“Yes, skipper,” he murmurs, batting his lashes. “I thought you should know how well I take orders, Captain Murph.”

Holy fucking fuck.

That’s all I have to say about that. Otherwise, my brain is fully offline. I don’t think there’s enough blood to go around—not when it’s all needed elsewhere.

A few little words, one little look, and I’m simmering with a white-hot, urgent, fumbling desire that I can barely hold back.

Hands. Silk shirt. But… it’s almost unbuttoned? I curl my hands into fists, focusing on the feeling of residue from the gas cans. Dirty hands. Wash them, now.

“Mmph,” I grunt, my voice almost cracking under the strain of holding myself back. “Good work, Eden.” Then I wheel around and march straight into the boat as Eden’s laughter puts wind in my sails.

First door on the left.

I tug it closed and turn on the tap. At last, the world stops spinning around me quite so dizzily. I don’t know if it’s the cold water streaming over my hands, or the door between me and Eden… but I can almost think straight again.

I swallow hard, looking up at myself in the chipped little mirror hanging over the sink. There it is again, in my eyes—something bright, eager, and… a little bit wild.

It’s not like I don’t recognize myself, but… it’s a different version of me. Bold, yet calm. A little more spontaneous than usual. Not quite so willing to fade into the background. Then the moment fades, and I’m just inspecting myself in the mirror like a grade-A dweeb.

I shake my head slowly, turning off the tap. If I want to have dinner— before I have him , my thoughts unhelpfully interject—I’m going to have to keep it in my pants.

As I pat my hands dry on the towel, I study the little built-in bathroom that looks like it was installed in the 70s. There’s a box in the corner, stuffed to overflowing with skin and hair products I couldn’t begin to identify.

“Huh,” I murmur, slowly shaking my head.

It’s like seeing two different portraits of Eden at the same time. The guy who has all these products, and makes a fuss about everything… and the guy who quietly accepts days of cold showers without saying a word.

Which one is the real Eden? Or is it something else entirely?

After one more glance to make sure I look presentable, I head down the narrow hall into the open-plan galley and living area. It’s all plywood and bare metal in here, but bathed in the golden sunset light it still looks nicer than I expected.

The art canvases leaning against the walls help. It’s a touch of colour—and of Eden.

Speaking of whom, there he is—sitting at a little table on the bow deck. He’s prettied it up with a white tablecloth and flowers. Even the rickety plastic lawn chairs can’t detract from the charm. If anything, it’s weirdly more romantic.

But Eden’s staring absentmindedly across the harbour, nervousness written all over his face. His brows are drawn together. His lips curve down in this soft frown that knocks the wind out of me.

Something tender aches in my chest. Of course I want to ravish him… but first, I want to treat him right.

I scuff my shoe against the plywood to warn him that I’m coming, and sure enough, that smile slips right back into place.

“Hi,” I greet as I duck my head to step out through the double doors.

It’s a busy time of evening, with boats coming and going along the strait between the islands. All the passersby can see what’s going on—and among the tourists, there are a lot of islanders who know me.

Dollars to donuts, gossip will be in the air tomorrow. But I don’t care.

“Wow,” I murmur, smiling as I grip both arms of the flimsy plastic chair and carefully squeeze myself into it. “This is all so pretty.”

“Thanks.” Eden ducks his head, his cheeks pink. “Sorry. My chairs aren’t really made for you.”

I’m waiting for him to say something like, but my bed is … but he doesn’t. He just blushes, glancing down at the table and back up—letting me see a glimpse of his nerves.

I smile at him, trying to radiate all the calm I can. “I won’t make any sudden movements,” I promise. Then I look down at the table, my eyebrows flying up. “Whoa. What’s all this?”

I’ve never seen such fancy food on such chipped old plates. Eden’s cooked some kind of creamy risotto and salmon, with fancy herbs to and lemon slices as garnish.

“Yeah?” Eden beams up at me, hope and pride written all over his face. “Worth coming home for?” Then he blushes. “I—I mean, to my home,” he stutters.

I nod slowly, rubbing my forehead as I swallow the lump in my throat. I like looking after people, rescuing them, being in charge. I’m not used to… well, to having anyone spoil me.

“Fuck,” I finally breathe out, looking up at Eden with a smile.

He smiles back at me, sitting upright like I’ve given him the world’s best compliment. “That’s a good fuck, right?” he murmurs.

My turn to lighten the mood a little.

“It’s intended to be. We’ll see later.” I wink at Eden. “But let’s have dinner first.”

Eden turns bright red and fumbles to pick up his wine glass. Then he murmurs, “Yes, skipper,” and peeks up at me like he’s trying to retaliate in kind.

I just smirk at him, watching his blush deepen. We both know I won this round, fair and square. But I’m enjoying the sight of him getting truly flustered—it’s cute as hell.

“So, um… yeah. Bon appétit.” Eden picks up his wine glass, and I mirror him to clink them together.

“Mmmm,” I groan at the very first bite. For some reason, I wasn’t expecting Eden to be such a good cook—especially when he’s working with a galley kitchen like that. “Wow. Holy shit, Eden.”

If the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, he’s got me—hook, line, and sinker.

Eden sits up straight and even flashes me a cocky little grin. He stabs his fork into the salmon so hard that a little caper goes flying. “I know, right?”

This might be the first time we’ve both been so quiet. I guess we’ve both worked up an appetite today—and a nice, comfortable silence is settling between us as we focus on satisfying that hunger. In between bites, I’m watching Eden, studying everything from the candlelit twinkle in his eye to the soft fuzz of his forearm.

This is heaven.

Now that we’re mostly done eating, Eden is starting to chatter. Hopefully I’m smiling and nodding at the right moments. All I can think right now is how I could fall asleep perfectly happily to the sound of his voice washing over me.

“Wow. Are those seals?”

Oh. That one was for me.

“If they’re slowly spinning around like tops.” I set down my wine glass and follow the direction he’s pointing. “Like that, yeah. Otters are more…” I trail off, trying to think how to describe how they move.

“Slithery?”

I laugh with surprise. I never would have thought of the word, but it works. “Yes, actually. Are you an otter expert? Sea otters, not the gay kind.”

Eden snorts, then gives me a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, don’t start.” He rolls his head back to dramatically stare away. “After today, I am.” Then he waits. And… did he just sneak a glance at me?

I narrow my eyes and frown at him, trying to figure out whether he wants me to ask or not.

Two seconds later, Eden sighs again, like I’ve twisted his arm. “ Fine , I’ll admit it. An otter made fun of me for being bad at paddling.”

“He—you—paddling?—”

“I don’t want to relive it.” Eden dramatically lays a hand on his forehead as I fight back a laugh. As I expected, he keeps going anyway. “It was mortifying . And it gets worse. A whole bunch of islanders saw me. Turns out the emergency boat I bought at that discount place by the highway… it’s not an inflatable dinghy.”

Torn between laughter and an exasperated groan, I set down my fork and stare at Eden. “What is it?”

Eden hangs his head. “A pool toy.”

I can’t stop the laughter. I run my hand back through my hair, almost leaning back in the chair before I remember how flimsy it is. “Eden Meyers, you worry the shit out of me.”

“It’s okay. The bartender, Kieran, gave me a towel… Justin opened the store so I could go shopping… this guy, Alph, he gave me a ride back to the boat... and Berty just talked my ear off. I was a real community project today.”

I grin. “Kieran and Alph, huh? You’ve already met two of my brothers.”

Eden stares at me, and then he groans and puts his face in his hands. “There goes my first impression… as usual.”

I laugh, reaching across the table to rest my hand on his forearm. “It’s okay,” I promise him. “They’ll like you for who you are. I do, too.”

Eden glances up and pauses, looking at me with this painful mix of hopeful excitement and… I don’t know what else, but it feels like he’s trying to hold himself in check, just in case.

“I mean it,” I add softly. “In every way.”

A smile creeps over Eden’s face as he blushes. Then he lays his hand on top of mine. “I like you, too.”

Whoa.

A pleasurable shockwave vibrates through me as I glance down at his hand, then catch his eyes again. “I—uh—” I break off, clearing my throat. “Well. Yeah. I’m glad.”

“Yeah.”

It’s impossible to ignore the air thickening around us, like the world is wrapping us up in our own private cocoon. We’re even breathing quicker now, nervous yet excited for what’s coming.

It’s just him and me right now. The rest of the world can pass by at whatever pace it likes—and, for once, I don’t care.

At last, I pull my hand away with a smile. “You see over there?” I point with my fork before I polish off the last couple of bites of risotto. “When you’ve got your license, make sure you go around that spot. Especially at low tide. There’s a reef underneath. A couple times a year, the tide gets so low that you can even stand on it.”

“Whoa,” Eden breathes out, his eyes going huge. “Like, do you have island parties on it? Or would that ruin the biodiversity? How big is it?”

“It—no, Eden—” I burst out laughing, almost choking on the last bite of risotto. I drop my fork again and take the glass of water Eden hands me, giving him the I’m fine wave.

I just know he’s imagining a Pacific atoll, all white sand and sunshine. The reality is murky, knee-deep water, only worth it for the bragging rights.

When I finally catch my breath, I shake my head. “It might be big enough for three people, if they have a conjugal relationship—or they’re willing to start one.”

Just as Eden bursts out in a surprised, raucous laugh, the sun finally dips beneath the horizon and the colours in the sky turn into these dark golds and reds.

I can’t think of a single reason this moment isn’t perfect.

My cheeks hurt from smiling as I watch him trying to stop giggling at a joke that wasn’t even that funny. But I know exactly how he feels. When we’re together, everything feels ten times more . The funny things are that much funnier, the joy that much brighter.

I can’t believe something could feel so good, and also be this much fun. When I said I like him… shit, I hope he knew what I meant: I really like him.

Eden giggles. “You’re staring again.”

“What else am I supposed to do when the view’s this good?” I wink at Eden.

Eden pauses meaningfully.

My nostrils flare as I sit up a little straighter, my heart pounding against my ribs. The nervous, crackling tension is back in the air—and I think we can both feel which way it’s heading.

“I’ve got a long list of suggestions,” Eden finally says. He swipes his tongue over his lower lip, then glances up through his lashes.

“I bet you do.”

Eden doesn’t miss a beat. He just leans in to prop his chin on his fist, batting his lashes at me. “Trust me, you’ll like how vocal I am.”

“And you’ll like my plan to make you sing for me,” I counter in a low rumble. “Now, finish up and show me your aft, sailor.”

Eden’s lips slowly part. He turns the colour of a tomato, and then he shovels the last bites of salad into his mouth at lightning speed. Then he tosses down his fork, and we both get to our feet.

I know when the tide has me beat… and there’s no fighting this pull between us.