Eden frowned. “Because of your PTSD?’
Steve nodded. “Large crowds overwhelm me, and I prefer to keep my private life away from the media.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this when you first showed me your sculptures?”
Steve watched Eden carefully. She didn’t look upset about what he’d said, but he wasn’t taking any chances. “I didn’t want my job or my income to change how you see me.”
“Why would it do that? Just because you’re an artist, it doesn’t make you any different than an accountant, a lawyer, or a construction worker.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. Eden accepted him for who he was, and that meant more than anything else. There was only one problem; he earned a whole lot more than any accountant he’d met.
“If you make a decent living from selling your sculptures, why live in the tiny home village?” Eden asked, genuinely puzzled.
Steve sighed. “After everything that’s happened, I needed to live somewhere that I felt safe, where I knew my neighbors, and where I was part of something bigger than myself. Living in a large house was too isolating. The tiny home village gave me a sense of community and familiarity that I desperately needed.”
Eden nodded, but she still seemed confused. “Does your dad know how popular your sculptures are?”
Steve looked away for a moment before answering. “I’ve told him, but he doesn’t understand how much money is involved. When my mom was alive, she was supportive, but my dad... he’s always been disappointed in the choices I’ve made. He thinks I should be doing something more practical. Like he did.”
“It must be hard,” Eden said softly, “not having his support.”
He nodded. “It is, but I’ve come to terms with it. I’m doing what I love, and that’s what matters the most to me.”
“How does your work on the tiny homes fit into what you’re doing? Doesn’t it take time away from making the sculptures?”
Steve brushed a hand along the side of Eden’s face. “If I was spending all my time in my workshop, I wouldn’t meet anyone. Working with the construction teams gives me the chance to connect with people. I’ve made good friends and enjoy their company. I don’t get paid, and the site foreman is happy for me to work around my sculpting schedule.”
Eden’s expression softened. “It sounds like you’ve found a balance between the two jobs that works for everyone. I just wish you’d told me earlier. It doesn’t change how I see you, Steve. If anything, it makes me admire you more for following what you love.”
Steve felt a sliver of unease travel along his spine. He hadn’t told Eden everything. One day, when he was ready, he’d tell her the name he sold his sculptures under, and the true extent of his wealth.
He just hoped he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life by not telling her now.
Eden was enjoyingher morning at the Saturday market. Tables filled with fresh produce, handmade crafts, and local delicacies made walking around the crowded outdoor area a pleasure. Apart from anything else, the lively atmosphere and cheerful conversations were a welcome distraction from what Steve had told her last night.
She was amazed he’d chosen Sapphire Bay to make his sculptures. It didn’t surprise her they were so popular. He was a talented artist and deserved all the success his pieces brought him. But she was a little disappointed that he’d thought she’d treat him differently if she knew his main income was from sculpting.
As she examined a basket of ripe strawberries, her phone buzzed in her pocket.
When she saw Shelley’s name on the screen, she answered straightaway. “Hey, Shelley. Is everything okay?”
“Hi. Don’t worry, I’m not in labor,” Shelley said with a light laugh. “But I did want to tell you about a house that’s about to go on the market. The tenants moved out, and the owners want a quick sale. It needs some remodeling, but I thought you might be interested.”
Eden moved away from the table of fresh fruit. “I don’t know if I can afford a house. I have some savings, but it might not be enough for the deposit.”
“At least have a look,” Shelley said. “It’s the cutest cottage I’ve seen. If you like it, you could call the bank and see what you can afford.”
Eden looked across the market. Chloe had been overjoyed when Penny asked if she wanted to move into the cottage on Anchor Lane. In a week’s time, Eden was moving out of Shelley and John’s home and into The Welcome Center. If she bought the house, she might be able to go straight there.
“What’s the address of the house?” Eden asked.
“28 Chestnut Drive. It’s not close to the lake or within easy walking distance of town, but that’s a good thing. It’ll keep the price down and give you some wiggle room with your offer. I’ve got the key.”
Eden’s eyebrows rose. “You were that sure I’d want to have a look?”
Shelley laughed. “Call it female intuition. It’s gorgeous, Eden. Even John was impressed when we did a little drive past.”
With that recommendation, how could Eden refuse? “Okay. I can meet you there in fifteen minutes. But be careful. I don’t want you getting over excited and going into labor.”
