Page 14 of Meant for Me (Magnolia Bay #3)

Yeah, maybe. If he could get away. He paused. Would Amelia want to go with him? Not that they were exactly to the point of father-daughter fishing dates yet. He had to admit, the idea didn’t sound awful. He had a lot of time to make up for.

Assuming she’d let him.

“Elisa is going to kill me.” Zoey dropped onto the bench seat beside Linc, her wrist brushing his arm.

He grabbed for a napkin from the holder by the window. “Why are you sticky?” His first full day as a parent, and he couldn’t avoid the stickiness—and it wasn’t even from his kid.

His kid . So weird.

Zoey leaned past him for more napkins. Her long hair grazed his arm, and that balmy, fresh soap scent wafted up. “Syrup.”

He took a deep breath of her, then caught himself. Frowned instead. “You already ate?”

“Just a pity waffle.” Zoey craned her neck to look around the diner. “Oh no. Here she comes.”

He tried to follow her gaze. “Who?”

Elisa appeared at the booth, wearing an apron, her fingers pressed against her lips. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Are you mad?” Zoey winced. “I panicked. I was just trying to get the attention off”—she glanced at Linc, then back to Elisa—“you know. Everyone else.”

Amelia started walking back from the bathroom, her head down, arms crossed. Linc held his breath, waiting. Would people start to—nope, they were all still locked in discussions, the words mayor and campaign floating around the room. He breathed a little easier.

“Mad?” Elisa snorted. “I’m ecstatic. I’ve been trying to convince Noah to run for weeks—now he has to.” She grinned. “Granted, he might be mad.”

Zoey waved one hand in the air. “I can handle that. Not afraid of his flannel.”

Amelia slid into the booth opposite them, braced her chin in her hands.

“What can I get you, sugar?” Elisa slipped into waitress mode and pulled a pad of paper from her apron pocket.

“Fries.” Amelia scowled, dark brows furrowing. Linc blinked. Was like looking in a mirror.

“What about hash browns instead?” Elisa tilted her head. “We don’t serve fries until eleven.”

Amelia sighed long and loud, as if she’d been asked to clean the diner’s floor on her hands and knees. With a toothbrush. “Whatever.”

Linc opened his mouth to intervene with the attitude, but Elisa interrupted as she swung her gaze to him. “Let me guess—you want bacon?”

“You’ve seen Parks and Rec , right?” Zoey piped up before he could answer. Apparently he didn’t even need to speak at this breakfast. All the women were doing it for him. “Bring enough for Ron Swanson.”

Well, that was helpful, at least.

“Got it.” Elisa flashed them a smile. “Be right back with coffees.”

Now it was his turn. “Hey.” Linc tapped the table in front of Amelia, who had started doodling on a napkin as Elisa bustled away. “You don’t have to be rude.”

Beside him, Zoey shot him a double-take, and okay, yeah. He could take his own advice sometimes. But this was parenting.

This was different.

“I wasn’t rude.” Amelia glared.

“You’re being rude right now.”

“I’m making the same face you are!”

Linc opened his mouth, then shut it again. Couldn’t argue there. He tried to relax his features. “Fine. But…no fighting before coffee.”

Amelia perked up, pushing away her napkin drawing. “Can I have some?”

“You’re too young for caffeine.” He hesitated, glanced at Zoey. “Right?” Man, there was so much he didn’t know.

“How about a compromise? A little coffee mixed with milk.” Zoey smiled, which immediately leveled out the tension hovering over the table. How did she always do that? “Miley over at Chug a Mug makes a mean decaf latte, if you ever want one.” She paused. “Well, depending on the weather, of course.”

“Whatever. This town is weird.” Amelia grabbed a straw wrapper, began folding it.

She wasn’t wrong, but still. This was his town. Linc took the wrapper from her. “Enough with the whatever s. This isn’t going to work if you have an attitude.”

“Great.” She slapped her hands flat on the table. “Then send me back home.”

He leaned forward. “There’s no home to go back to.”

Amelia’s take-no-prisoners expression faltered. Zoey’s hand landed back on his arm, still mildly sticky. “ Linc .”

“What?” He looked between them. No time to gloss over anything. They’d already been tossed into the deep end—might as well start kicking. “She deserves the truth.”

“What are you talking about?” Amelia frowned. “What happened to my apartment?”

Zoey shot a warning nudge into his ribcage.

But they didn’t need to baby her. Like Amelia kept reminding them—she was almost fourteen. The social worker should have told her everything from the beginning. Now that, too, was being pawned off.

Would Kirsten’s choices ever stop haunting him?

“Your mom didn’t renew the lease.” Linc held Amelia’s gaze. “Looks like you’re stuck with me for a while, kid.”

Amelia’s throat bobbed. She looked at Linc, then Zoey. Pressed her lips together.

Then bolted from the bench.

Aye . Guess hanging out with him was a sentence worse than death.

The bell clanged on her way out. Linc shoved his hands into his hair, forgetting it was tied up. The loose knot on top of his head slipped, and his fingers tangled. He growled, wrenching them free and scooting sideways against Zoey. “Let me out.”

“No. Give her a minute.” Zoey grabbed the edge of the table, holding on with both hands as Linc tried to bump her out of the booth.

He pressed against her again. “She doesn’t know her way around town yet.”

Zoey dug her heels in, held on tighter. Pretty strong for someone who refused to exercise. “She’s not going far.” She pointed out the window, where Amelia hesitated on the sidewalk by the stop sign on Village Lane. “See?”

The knot in his chest loosened, but only a bit. Was that how parents felt, all the time? Mildly panicky? He briefly closed his eyes. “I’m really bad at this.”

“I’m glad you see that.”

He opened his eyes, narrowed them at her. “Where is that annoying, perpetual optimism when I need it?”

“It’s not very optimistic to lie.”

His shoulders tightened again. She was one to talk. “Aren’t you doing the same thing?”

Zoey reeled back to look at him directly, blue eyes wide. “How?”

“Lying to yourself. About your claim.” He waved his hand. “Living like money is about to magically appear in the mailbox any day now when you know that it’s tied up. You know you’re stuck.”

“Well.” Zoey blinked. “Aren’t you on a truth roll.”

“I’m just trying to be honest.” Someone had to be.

She frowned. “Truth can be gently delivered, you know.”

“That takes too long.” He looked back out the window, where Amelia had finally crossed the street. Great. Now where was she going to go? “Delaying the inevitable doesn’t do anyone any favors. It’s better to get the truth out, then deal with it instead of living in denial.”

He’d had to learn that the hard way in a courtroom when he was eight, no reason everyone else couldn’t catch up. He frowned. “Why are you women always so?—”

Oops. Too far. Zoey’s brow had disappeared into her bangs.

He swallowed the end of that sentence. “You know what I mean.”

“Here’s an idea. I’m going after your daughter, and you’re going to look up the price of a muzzle on Amazon.” Zoey abruptly stood. “Better get an extra large.”

Okay, he probably deserved that. “Zoey?—”

Elisa appeared with a tray laden with coffee, bacon, and hash browns. “Everything okay?”

“I’ll be right back.” Zoey patted Linc’s arm. He grimaced—still sticky. He did not deserve that. “Enjoy your bacon.”

Oh. Not sure how she’d turned a simple statement into a threat, but she’d managed. Zoey brushed out the door as Elisa put Linc’s plate in front of him.

He stared at it. Not as hungry now.

The aroma of the still-sizzling meat met his nose, and he hesitated. Getting a bit of protein before facing either woman again probably wouldn’t hurt. He never did operate well on an empty stomach.

He bent over his plate, shoved a piece into his mouth. Guilt nudged, but he couldn’t quite determine why. He hadn’t done anything wrong—had he? Didn’t Amelia deserve honesty? Besides, he’d never been the compassionate type. Better for her to realize the truth right away, if she hadn’t. Life hurt.

People left.

A throat cleared, and Linc looked up. Elisa still stood next to the booth, the empty tray tucked under her arm. She raised her eyebrows. “May I offer some advice?”

Linc picked up his second piece of bacon, stomach recoiling. He forcefully took a bite. “I assume you will anyway.” He waited for the berating, the confirmation that he sucked, the I used to be a teenage girl, so I know how they operate stuff.

But Elisa only gave him a gentle smile. “Maybe give yourself a chance.”

Oh.

He stared at the window as Zoey hurried to catch up to Amelia on the sidewalk. Hadn’t expected…well, compassion. Definitely hadn’t anticipated the way the sentiment washed over him, wiped away a bit of the guilt lingering.

Then his eye caught the napkin Amelia had been drawing on. A typical round, cartoon face, but with a frown instead of a smile. Two wobbly teardrops drifted from its comically large eyes.

He swallowed. Give himself a chance? Tempting. But…he looked out the window as Amelia stalked down the street. Wouldn’t matter if he did.

Because it certainly didn’t seem like his daughter would anytime soon.

* * *

Out of breath, Zoey caught up to Amelia a few blocks down from the café. The morning sun was in high gear now, a glaring contrast to the mood back at the diner—and the one reflected on Amelia’s face.

She fell into step beside the sullen teen, dodging orange cones set around a newly repaired pothole. “Hey, all the good shopping is the other way.”

Amelia didn’t even look at her, just kept stiffly hustling down Village Lane toward the park and the gazebo.

Across the street, a kid did a skateboard trick while a woman walking her Schnauzer chatted on her phone.

Farmer Branson rolled by in his pickup truck, the bed full of crates of red and yellow vegetables.