Page 19 of Unmoored

I’m sitting on the lowest boulder in the semicircle that forms Brothers’ Cove, watching the boats in the distance. Some speed past, and others putter along without a care in the world.

“Aren’t they romantic?” I breathe out softly.

“Who?” Murph is leaning on the boulder next to me, giving me a puzzled stare.

I giggle, waving toward the water. “Boats. In general, they’re romantic. Very… old-world.”

“The smell of diesel gets you off, huh?” Murph says dryly. “I’ll remember that.”

I can’t stop my giggle—or the prickle of hot excitement that shivers down my spine. “No, but… think about it. Like that guy there, headed to destinations unknown,” I say, flourishing a hand toward another passing boat.

Murph squints at me. “Uh huh...?”

“I mean,heknows where he’s planning to go… unless he’s like me.” I giggle. “But even then, who knows where he’ll end up?”

Murph’s forehead crinkles as he presses his lips together. “Mmmm,” he grunts noncommittally, glancing at the ocean.

I can practically see the nautical maps flashing in front of his eyes. That whole combination of rugged and nerdy is Murph’s whole thing, and it’s really hot on him… but it does kind of ruin the moment.

“You’re deciding whether to break the illusion, aren’t you?” I snort.

Murph sheepishly shrugs. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“You’re good at saying nothing,” I tease him, winking when he glances at me. I’m just waiting for him to scowl and say nothing, so I can poke fun at him for proving my point.

Murph grunts. “So are you.”

Wait. What did he just say?

As I try to pick my jaw up off the floor, Murph leans against the warm rock to gaze at the sea.

“Well,” I finally manage. “I’ve never been accused of keeping my mouth shut.”

Is he just trying to play my game and get me riled up? If so, it’s working.

“Mmm.” Murph shuffles his feet, balancing himself on the smooth beach stones. I swear there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “That’s certainly not what I said.”

“Hey!” I gasp, grinning with surprise. Looks like Murphdoeshide away some fire under that calm surface.

“Mm?”

“Now you’re calling me a loudmouth,” I complain, playfully shoving his shoulder, but it doesn’t even budge him. “Pick one—but be warned, thereisa right answer. Unless you really do hate the sound of my voice?—”

“No,” Murph cuts me off. He glances up again, frowning slightly as his gaze flicks between my eyes. “No, Eden,” he repeats himself, a little softer. “I really don’t.”

Oh.

The first thing I noticed about Murph is that he doesn’t waste words. If he says he really doesn’t hate something, it means he likes it.

He likesme.

“Good answer,” I manage in a rush of breath.

Murph rests a hand on my forearm, stopping me from nervously fidgeting with the hairs at the back of my neck. He draws my hand down into his, twining our fingers together. “It’s true. And Brothers’ Cove is a place for truth.”

Whatever he says, it feels like a big deal that he invited me here. I can tell by the way he gets quiet and respectful, like someone walking onto sacred ground. “Yeah?” I murmur. “Is it named after you and your brothers?”

“We might be the only ones who call it that,” he admits with a wry smile. “But yeah. Sometimes I come down here to think. Sometimes we all show up with a case of beer and hang out here until we’ve eaten so many Doritos that we have to roll each other home.”

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