Page 1 of Meant for Me (Magnolia Bay #3)

one

T here were too many people in his boat. No, there were too many kids in his boat.

The evening sun began its lazy late summer descent, casting a golden glow atop the waves of Magnolia Bay.

Linc Fontenot held back a scowl as yet another sticky-fingered, freckled-faced child grabbed for the steering column of Linc’s twenty-foot pontoon.

Of all the nights for Anthony, his college-aged tour guide, to call in sick.

Should have told him to pop an ibuprofen and get to work.

“We’ll be off shortly.” Linc attempted a less-fake smile at his pontoon full of eight Croc-wearing, camera-clutching tourists.

He probably sounded as annoyed as he felt, which wasn’t great for the five-star reviews he was in desperate need of, but some things, like the weather and this wind stirring up waves, just couldn’t be helped.

The boat rocked again, and he braced his legs as he stood starboard, arms crossed.

The dock—unlike the boat—sat annoyingly empty as they bobbed. Where was Zoey? She’d sworn she was on her way ten minutes ago. And not that she’d lie, exactly, but it’d be just like her to leave him hanging, stretch him to his max before swooping in to help at the last minute.

“What’s this do?” The same freckled, sunburnt kid reached for one of the levers on the steering column.

Linc swatted his hand away, let his scowl free. “Blows up the boat.”

“Really?” The kid lowered his hands to his side, blue eyes wide against red cheeks.

Linc narrowed his eyes. “Wanna find out?”

Freckles adamantly shook his head and cowered into his mother, who wore a buckled life jacket despite the fact they hadn’t even set sail yet and vests were optional for participants over twelve. The mom frowned at Linc, wrapping her arm around her son.

Five stars, five stars. “Uh, help yourself to the sodas in the cooler there.” Linc stepped away, turned his back. See? This was why Anthony did Boiling Bayou tours in the off-season. Linc was better with crawfish than people.

He shaded his eyes and gazed up the dock, toward the boat house and the slightly leaning, boarded bathroom facility and the minuscule concession counter that made them able to pitch this bay-side tour business more legitimately.

In the bow seat, a middle-aged couple wearing straw hats started arguing, one of them sounding like they’d already hit up happy hour at the pub before boarding. Great.

He could probably only stall about five more minutes, and then he’d be forced to drive the boat and talk, God help him.

Maybe they’d get lucky and see a dolphin, despite the last sighting having been weeks ago.

No way would Linc be able to create the same energy Anthony did—giving facts about bay life and stats about the gulf beyond, making the tourists laugh and want to come back. Honestly, it was just a bay.

But he’d come back years ago, hadn’t he? So maybe it was more.

Two kids started a loud game of rock, paper, scissors, and Linc wondered for the tenth time if he could raise his age limit for tours.

But then he’d be turning away families, and exhausted dads with fat wallets looking to sit down for an hour were the only reason he was able to keep things running in the off-season.

The hurricane last year made this past crawfish and shrimp haul the smallest Linc had ever had.

He just had to make up the difference this fall and winter with these side hustles, then hope for a solid season next spring.

Problem was, he wasn’t generating enough traction on the tours yet, and Elisa, who’d helped market his buddy Noah’s inn recently, suggested he focus on getting people to leave reviews.

Positive reviews. He winced. This was all doable, right? No need to worry.

Except for the fact Zoey might not show up and he might have to play the role of fun-loving guide. That was reason to worry.

But there she was, finally, jogging over the sun-warped planks, dark hair bouncing over her small, fairy-like frame. Her slouchy, oversized bag slammed her jean-clad hip with each step, her smile wide and knowing as she barreled straight down into the boat.

“Took you long enough.” Linc kept his voice low, his stance solid as she braced one hand on his shoulder to soften her abrupt landing. Wasn’t that what he always did for her? Had done while she’d stood and watched her own business burn to the ground several weeks ago?

He wasn’t the only one needing to make up profits. At least his status wasn’t emergency. Yet, anyway.

She blinked up at him, blue eyes large beneath thick bangs, her smile far from innocent. “Now, did you think I left you here alone with all these”—she dropped to a horrified whisper—“ people on purpose?”

“Yes. I did.” His shoulder tingled under her touch. Been doing that lately. Somewhat bothersome.

“And yet you called me anyway.” She winked, moving her hands to plant on her narrow hips. “I sort of like being your only hope.”

He scowled again as he made his way to the wheel, shaking off the lingering burn on his arm. “Desperate times.”

“Am I getting paid for this?” She unzipped that ridiculous bag and pulled out a black band.

He plopped down on the captain’s chair. “No.”

She affixed the band over one eye and struck a pose. Good grief, she’d brought an eye patch. “What about now?”

He snorted. “I asked you to lead the tour, not channel your inner Captain Hook.”

“Same thing, right?” She pulled a fake goatee from her purse, peeled off an adhesive strip, and affixed it to her cheeks and chin.

Then draped a gold chain over her neck, rolled up her shirt sleeve to reveal the fake— please be fake—bicep tattoo of a heart reading MOM, and turned to the tourists with a grand gesture. “Ahoy, mateys! Welcome aboard.”

Oh, brother. Linc shifted into reverse, and the boat puttered away from the dock as Zoey launched into an even thicker accent, sounding more British than pirate.

But the kids had quieted down, and even Mrs. Uptight looked relaxed now, leaning back against the seat and smiling as her son stared, mesmerized, at Zoey.

Same, kid, same. Linc threw the throttle into drive. Hard not to stare at Zoey lately. Which obviously was just proof Linc needed a vacation. He’d been working too hard the past month, was getting tired. Or something.

Something dangerously close to vulnerable.

He squinted into the sunlight as he navigated them out of the inlet into deeper water, keeping an eye on the wind still sending rogue gusts.

Zoey might be goofy, but she’d rake in those five stars for him.

He’d pay her for helping today, even though she wouldn’t be expecting it.

She’d been couch-surfing over Magnolia Bay since her apartment lease ended and the insurance from the fire at Bayou Beignets had yet to pay out.

She needed all the money she could get, despite insisting she was fine.

He knew better, knew that was why she’d been scrambling to create her own side catering business in the meantime.

She also insisted she couldn’t stay with him, even though he had two extra bedrooms. Said she’d cramp his style. And she would. He rather liked his high ceilings and cedar beams and wide windows with a view of a pond, his own private corner of Magnolia Bay. It was peaceful. Quiet.

But maybe some temporary company didn’t sound too awful.

Zoey leaned in toward her audience, casting one leg straight out to the side like it was a peg. “Who can tell me why one pirate pushed another one overboard?”

The parents exchanged knowing grins while the kids shook their heads.

“Because they got into an arrgh -gument, of course!”

Linc rolled his eyes as the adults chuckled. “I thought Miley was the resident comedian around here.” The moody young barista had shocked everyone with her comedy skills at the Cajun Circus fundraiser his friend Cade hosted earlier in the summer. “You should probably keep your day job, Zo?—”

Oops. She had no day job anymore. He winced.

Zoey narrowed her eyes, the wind brushing back her hair and giving her an even more genuine pirate-like appearance. “If you’re going to insult me, commit already. Don’t stop mid-sentence like a coward.”

“Sorry.” He briefly released the wheel and held up both hands in surrender. “I didn’t think it through.”

“Since when do you care about that?” She turned back to the tourists, thankfully before she saw the grin Linc fought to hide. Maybe that was why he tolerated Zoey. Okay, more than tolerated. She had moxie. Always told him what he needed to hear.

Never seemed to be scared of him, unlike most of the rest of the town.

“I’ve got one more question for ye, then we’ll turn our attention to the murky, treasure-laden waters of Magnolia Bay.” Zoey wiggled her fingers toward the freckled kid.

The boy jumped up from his seat and grinned. “I have a question too!”

“Please remain seated at all times,” Linc droned.

The kid reluctantly perched on the edge of the bench seat. The engine hummed beneath them. “What’s your pirate name?”

“Oh! Um.” Zoey cleared her throat, cast a quick look at Linc.

He shook his head, stoic. Nope, not helping. She’d gotten herself into this…

“It’s, ah—” She adjusted the eye patch that had slipped. “Captain Z, of course.”

Freckles sank back, skinny brows furrowed. “That’s bor-ing .”

“I mean, that was my name. Before…the fire.” Zoey squared her shoulders.

Freckles blinked and the rest of the crowd grew still. “The fire?”

What was she doing? Linc steered them toward the open water, where two jet skis raced. He scowled. In this wind? Those arrogant idiots better follow the traffic rules…

“Argh, that’s right. I’m homeless.” Zoey lifted her chin, patted her goatee as if she were making up a simple story and not merging fiction with reality. “Did you not see the burnt building on Village Lane?”

“I did.” A younger girl, life jacket securely buckled, raised her hand, eyes wide. “That was yours?”