Page 12 of Meant for Me (Magnolia Bay #3)

seven

T he porch rocker creaked as Linc leaned back, turning his face up to the inky black starlit sky.

Crickets chirped from the trees, and September wind wafted over the deck, stirring his hair, drying the sheen of sweat he hadn’t been able to shake the entire time he and Zoey had wandered around the general store with Amelia.

His daughter.

He rocked harder, shut his eyes. But that only provided a backdrop for images, memories, to play like a projector.

Kirsten’s wild black hair, impish grin always suggesting trouble.

The fancy picnic dinner he couldn’t afford but had managed to throw together anyway.

Charcuterie, wine, heart-shaped glasses.

Figured the one time he’d drunk underage he’d made an epic mistake. He’d just wanted to do something nice for Kirsten. Had felt her slipping away, thought a Valentine’s date would interest her again. She’d been hanging with new friends, and he’d suspected the drug use even then.

He’d underestimated her.

The screen door opened, and Zoey joined him on the porch, wearing a giant sweatshirt and leggings, her face clean of makeup.

She took the chair next to him without asking if he wanted company and sank onto it, pulling her knees up to her chin.

How she always sat like a fairy perched on a mushroom was beyond him.

“You okay?” She turned her head to face him, cornflower eyes shining against pale skin, lit by the nearly full moon above.

He rocked again, his chest heavy. “Define okay .”

“My definition or Webster’s?”

“Yours is probably more interesting.”

“Hmm.” She tilted her head. “ Okay —an adverb meaning you could be worse but could be better.”

“Sounds about right.” He’d definitely be a lot worse if Zoey hadn’t been there. He should tell her that, but his tongue felt thick. Vulnerability wasn’t his thing, and Zoey knew that.

Surely she knew he appreciated her too.

His rocker creaked. “All these years, I had a daughter out there. This person just running around with my DNA.”

“And your attitude.” Zoey grinned.

“That too.”

“She’s finally asleep, though that new radio you got her is still blaring early 2000s pop hits.”

Yuck. At least it wasn’t country. “Maybe we can get her into rock.” Sort of seemed like music was going to be the least of his worries in the days and weeks to come. Would it really be that long?

Too many questions. Zero answers.

Zoey tugged her sweatshirt over her bent knees. “So…you have a daughter.”

He sucked in a deep breath. “I have a daughter.”

“You really didn’t know?”

“I wish everyone would quit asking me that.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Seems like a fair question.”

He shot his gaze sideways to her. The urge to be vulnerable, to share, to seek relief, welled to the surface. But last time he’d poured out his heart, it had been to Kirsten, and they’d—yeah. It’d ended badly. So no.

Still…He raised an eyebrow. “If I had known, you would know.”

A little smile tugged at Zoey’s lips, and she hugged her legs closer. “I figured.”

He shook his head. She liked knowing things, and especially liked knowing things about him that no one else did. Not really sure why that made her feel special. He wasn’t exactly a jackpot of interesting information.

Well, before tonight, anyway. Guess that had changed too.

Zoey held his gaze. “What happened, Linc?”

Ugh. He hooked one leg over the other. At least that darn lamppost wasn’t in reach. “What are the odds of you letting me avoid this question?”

She squinted. “About as good as Pastor Todd replacing the baptismal font with a hot tub.”

“Fine.” He stopped rocking, shifted to face her. “I was nineteen, Kirsten was eighteen. Two kids made a dumb decision and made another kid.”

Zoey blinked. “That’s one way to tell the story.”

He probably owed her a little more—after all, she’d saved him from being the bad guy when Amelia tried to buy a TV for her room. He tried again. “We were young, thought we were in love. But were always fighting.”

Zoey listened, nibbling her cuticle. “Go on.”

“There were rumors about her and another guy…she and I had been together several months, but I guess we weren’t on the same page.

” Not even the same book, as he later learned.

“Tried to do something nice for Valentine’s, but she was acting weird, so I asked her if she was cheating on me, and she didn’t like that. We had a big fight.”

“Was she?” Zoey nibbled faster. “Cheating?”

He glanced toward the house where Amelia slept. Even now, years later—fourteen years later, to be exact—the word dropped a rock in his stomach. “Yes.”

Zoey winced. “I’m sorry.”

“After she stopped being so offended that I asked, she went the route of denial and then…distraction.” That part of the story he could remember in detail, unfortunately. “I’m assuming I don’t need to continue from here.”

“Skip a page.” Zoey swiped her pointed finger through the air. “What happened nine months later?”

“Well, we weren’t together that long, obviously.” He stared across the porch into the dark forest. “The truth came out about her cheating about a week after Valentine’s, and we broke up a few days after that.” He lifted one shoulder. “The end.”

Or so he’d thought. Apparently it was just the beginning.

“That’s a lot.” Zoey gazed across the deck, her face drawn.

Did she think less of him?

The fact that it would bother him if she did sat heavy, an unfamiliar weight. He’d never cared before. People’s opinions were their own, and they could think whatever they wanted with no reflection on him.

But with Zoey—it mattered.

A frog croaked from a nearby tree, while a firefly danced through the woods.

The hint of smoke from someone’s burn pile lingered in the air.

Linc swallowed hard, a ball catching in his throat.

All these years, and he’d done the same thing to his kid that his father had done to him.

Not the exact same. He hadn’t chosen to leave Amelia.

The ball doubled. How was she going to know that difference? How would Amelia ever trust him? Even Zoey had to double-check that he wasn’t lying. Like she thought it was possible he would abandon ship that way.

Though to be fair, the word father sure jump-started his heart into overdrive.

“How are you feeling about this? Besides the shock, of course.” Zoey tossed the question out there, like it was that simple to answer.

He thought a moment, wanting to shove everything down and back. But it kept bursting to the surface, threatening to erupt from his throat. “I feel like that one time when I was a kid, fell into the bay and caught a current.”

Zoey tilted her head. “I don’t know that story.”

Still vivid, twenty-four years later. “Couldn’t get up, despite being a strong swimmer even back then.”

“Aquaman.” She smiled.

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you start too.”

“Do you prefer water-baby?”

“I definitely don’t.”

“Fine. Continue.”

“The pier was right there. ” The sensation threatened him even now, the pull of the waves, the water soaking into his nose and ears. The roar rushing in his head. “I floundered until this old man in a fishing hat threw me a rope off the dock.”

Zoey’s eyes widened. “Who was it?”

“Don’t know.” Linc shrugged. “I’d never seen him before. Haven’t ever seen him since.”

She nodded slowly. “Wow.”

“So, yeah. It feels like that.” Like he needed rescue. He rocked in double time, fighting to fill his lungs even though he was no longer under the bay. “I never had a real dad. How the heck am I going to be one?”

“I know your parents died.” Her eyes softened. “But your uncle was there for you, right? He seemed like a good man, the one time I met him.”

“He’s not my uncle. Uncle Lyle and Aunt Carrie were my foster parents.”

Zoey gaped. “ Linc .”

Okay, so maybe he didn’t tell her everything. “It is what it is.”

Her mouth had yet to shut. “I had no idea you were a foster kid.”

“Mission accomplished.”

She frowned. “Why? It’s not something to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed. It just leads to questions I didn’t— don’t —want to answer.” Like what had happened in the courtroom that day when he was eight. A week before, he’d nearly drowned in the bay.

Some days he sort of wondered if that old man should have let him.

Zoey still looked confused. “I thought your parents died when you were young.”

“Mom did.” Eyes stinging, Linc looked down at the boards in the deck floor. He should sand them again, paint a fresh coat of varnish. Keep them looking nice despite the wear and tear of age.

She hesitated. “And your dad?”

His throat tightened. “Let’s just say I’m dead to him.”

Zoey’s hand was on his wrist, then, and he stared down at her white skin resting on his tanned forearm. “It’s his loss, Linc.”

The words slid like a balm over his heart, and for a moment, he relaxed into the warmth of them. The warmth of her . He stopped rocking, looked up to meet her steady blue gaze. Good ol’ Zoey. Someone who saw, who cared.

Who chose to stick around despite his rough edges and sharp corners.

But no one stuck around forever, did they?

He’d taken a chance with Kirsten, put down his guard long enough to realize it had protected him for a reason.

It was much better for people to think of him as tough guy.

As muscular Linc with the man bun and tattoos.

Made them keep their distance, which he preferred.

Except with Zoey. She’d somehow decided years ago to vault over all his boundaries and nestle in like a burr on his sock.

As a friend, that was fine. Nice, even, sometimes.

But getting too open with her, letting down his guard…

he couldn’t risk losing what they had in their friendship.

Couldn’t risk something leading to more and blowing up in his face.

She was more valuable than that.

He stiffened, withdrew his arm, ignoring the tingles racing down his skin. “I’ve got to figure out what to do about Amelia. I mean, she’ll have to start school and stuff soon, right?”

Zoey’s hand fell to her lap, and she blinked rapidly, as if trying to catch up. “Right.”

“I don’t know how to enroll a kid in school.” That task seemed downright impossible. “What grade is she even in?”

“She’ll know. The school will know too.”

“I’ve never bought school supplies. Do kids still use pencils?” Panic started a slow gnaw. “What is she going to eat?”

Zoey rolled in her lower lip, but not before he caught the smile forming. “She’s a teenager, Linc, not a goldfish. She’ll eat most anything.” She wrinkled her nose. “Case in point, she ate one of those cookies.”

This was a lot. “Does she need a bedtime?” He rubbed his chin. “Toys?”

“You realize she’s not in diapers, right?”

He scowled. “That part I figured.”

“Pretty sure she’s outgrown Legos and Lite Brites too.”

He stopped rocking. “ What brights?”

“Forget it.” Zoey shook her head. “Calm down—I’m sure she’ll listen to music and just watch as much TV as you let her.”

“I’m supposed to be picky about which shows, though, right? Oh, man, I probably need internet filters. What if she’s a gamer?” He frowned. “And isn’t there a whole thing about stranger danger?”

Zoey didn’t even try to hide her smile that time.

“Go ahead, laugh it up.” He rocked again, faster. He felt a headache coming on. “I don’t know kids. They’re all so…sticky, and opinionated.”

“You’ll get to know this one.”

“Assuming she lets me.”

“Ah.” Zoey pointed at him. “There’s the real issue. You’re afraid she won’t let you in.”

Of course he was. He looked back across the yard, into the shadows. At the pile of gravel still piled up from the tires that, mere hours earlier, had brought a surreal situation into his life. “You saw how Amelia talks to me. I abandoned her.”

“You can’t abandon someone without intention.”

“She doesn’t see it that way.”

“She will.” Zoey matched her rocker to his pace. “Give it time.”

“That’s the problem.” Linc glanced back at the house, where his daughter—his daughter —slept in a twin-size guest bed, probably listening to Avril Lavigne. He shuddered. “We don’t know how much time we have.”

“I guess not.” Zoey nibbled her lip. “What did Ms. Bridges say when I took Amelia to the kitchen?”

“That this has happened before, but Kirsten always came back before the police got involved.”

“That’s a good sign, right?” Zoey raised her brows. “Except that’s hardly a stable environment for Amelia to grow up in.”

No kidding. But hard to convince a kid of that fact—ask him how he knew. “Ms. Bridges said they had reason to believe this time was different.”

Zoey frowned. “How come? I mean, Kirsten is obviously flighty and impulsive, but I can’t imagine anyone just leaving their kid home alone for?—”

“Because.” He pressed his fingers against his pounding temples. “She didn’t renew her apartment lease.”

“ Oh.” Zoey reeled back. Nodded a little. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Linc released a sigh as he sat upright. “Like I said—we don’t know how much time we have.”

And maybe that fact was both the problem and the relief.