Page 25 of Unmoored

She’s opening a little compartment in the kayak, pulling out a tinfoil-wrapped parcel, and offering it to me. “I sure did, honey. I hope you like pie.” She winks at me, like she knows I do.

There’s no mistaking the smell of fresh crust and berries. My stomach rumbles before I can even answer her, and we both laugh.

“Oh my god. Wow. Thank you. I—that’s so nice of you!” I hastily kneel to grab the pie from her, cradling it in my lap. “Hold on… have we met?” Marianne grins, and then I realize. “You were at the coffee shop. So you’re on the social committee?”

“Guilty as charged. You’re an artist, right?” When I nod, she nods briskly. “Perfect. So, you should know there’s a secret agenda behind this pie.”

I grin. “Uh oh. Murph warned me about that.”

“We’re hoping to start a collective art gallery. The project is just getting started, and I didn’t want anyone to be left out. If you’re interested, I’d love to put you in touch with someone to talk about it.”

Whoa. I didn’t expect this to be a business visit. “I—um, yeah. Yeah, that sounds amazing. Thank you. Uh, I’d welcome you in, but…” I glance back at my clutter-filled living room, then her kayak. I don’t even know how one getsintoa kayak, much less out. “This might not be the right time.”

Marianne shrugs. “No rush. Everything runs on island time. I’ll take your number and set you up. He’s a nice young fellow, and a real marketing whiz. You have a lot in common.”

I narrow my eyes slightly. “When you sayset me up…?” I repeat carefully, letting my voice rise to imply the question.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she laughs. “He’s taken. But there’s some fine young gentleman living here, too. The new young fellow at the fire station…” she pretends to fan herself.

“Uh, that’s okay, thanks,” I tell her, blushing furiously at her wicked grin. “I’m still just finding my feet.” Knowing the speed that gossip travels around here, I’m not admitting that I have my sights set on one guy in particular.

She leans back and eyes my boat. “And you’re new on the water, hm? I didn’t think anyone would ever buy the Dawn’s Embrace. She’s a whole lemon pie.”

“In fairness, I was drunk when I bought her.” Marianne bursts out laughing as I grin at her. “If I can get my stuff into a new gallery before the winter… I’m highly motivated by hot showers.”

“We’ll make it happen,” she says with another wink, and a slightly terrifying amount of determination. “What’s your number?” As I recite it, she manages to tap it into her phone while keeping the kayak perfectly balanced. Then she picks up the paddle again. “Stop by if you need anything. I’m in the blue house with the yellow door, by the orchard.”

“Thank you. And thanks again for lunch—uh, I mean, the pie.” I clutch it to me like precious cargo as I stand up. “No, I definitely mean lunch.”

She laughs. “You’re welcome. See you around, Eden.”

I’m still a little dazed, watching her paddle off more gracefully than I can even walk. “See you around!”

Next time, I hope it’s not through my window.

As I step back into the boat and shove the door closed, I grimace. Somehow, that painting looks even more ominous than it did before—like it’s dominating the living room. It could be because I’m so in the flow with it, and I’m just noticing it more. Or it could be because the energy of it is all wrong.

But I know what to do now. I set the pie on the counter, and then I stride right up to the easel to swap out the canvas for a blank one.

Not every painting turns into a beautiful work of art, but that’s okay. I get to be the artist who tells my own story—literally, starting over with a blank canvas. One day, George will realize what he missed out on... and I’ll be too busy shining too bright to think about him.

I’m not going to let that shadow chase me over the horizon. Not ever again.

ChapterTen

MURPH

“Why doesnobody listen to me about the tide table?” I grumble, plopping my ass on the edge of the barge.

We’re picking up barrels of crushed apples from Faraway Orchards, but Kieran’s disappeared. He said he was going to help the owner, Will load up. And then something about “getting content for the socials”.

He’d better not be enjoying a sneaky cider flight in the tasting room.

I can barely keep up with the work this time of year. People love moving stuff in the summer. From construction to moving house, you name it and they need me. But I’m noticing how much downtime there is throughout the day, now that I have Eden to daydream about.

At least I know why all my friends keep turning into dumbasses. I’ve been their emotional support pet rock, listening to them as they fall in love. And helping them out when they make stupid-ass decisions. Sometimes, I even tell them things they need to hear. I’m good at it when it’s other people.

I never planned to be the one falling hard and fast. I always figured love would be slow, steady, predictable… like me. Then I found Eden. He’s as far from “sure and steady” as you can get. God, he’s a bundle of sunny recklessness, with his heart on his sleeve and a lot of filthy innuendo on his lips. It’s enough to turn me into a certified dumbass.

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