Page 23 of Meant for Me (Magnolia Bay #3)

She took a chance, leapt forward. “Step away from that cheesecake!”

Silverware clattered to the ground. “What the?—”

Linc.

She smirked as he emerged from the fridge, scowl firmly in place.

But her smile faded as her eyes took in the fact that he, most definitely, was not in a robe.

His dark hair was down, still damp from an earlier shower, and his tanned, muscular chest revealed several rows of abs that tapered into a pair of gray pajama pants.

A muddled scar occupied his left rib cage, catching her stare much longer than it should have.

Linc raised his eyebrows at her.

She gulped. Bent to grab the dropped fork the same time he did. Knock . Their heads collided.

“Ow.” Zoey pressed her hand to her forehead, backed into the island with a thump. “Oops.” She straightened, nearly knocking into Linc again.

“You okay?” Linc steadied her with one hand, which immediately sent sparks shooting through her robe and up her arm.

She shook him off and banged her elbow into the island. “Ow!” Now she clutched her arm instead of her head. What was wrong with her? Dunkin’ donuts, she’d seen Linc shirtless before—this was a beach town, full of pool parties and barbeques.

But never before in his home.

As her husband .

“You good?” Linc slowly held up both hands, eyeing her like she might be a wild animal in a trap. Which maybe wasn’t too far from the truth, given the current state of her bed-head and spastic movements.

“I just really wanted cheesecake.” Zoey slid down the length of the island to the floor, resting her back against the cabinet. Her head throbbed, and she had an incredibly uncanny urge to laugh. Cry.

Maybe scream, really, really loud.

Was that what happened when someone stuffed their emotions for too long? They all threatened to burst free at once?

Silently, Linc opened a drawer and grabbed a fresh fork. Then he sat down next to her, shoulder to shoulder, and handed it to her along with the cheesecake plate.

“Bless you.” Zoey pressed the fork into the cake and took a bite. The cold, creamy texture mixed with strawberries soothed her nerves. Cade knew what he was doing with the stress eating, that was for sure.

“Bad night?” Linc plucked the fork from her hands, speared off a piece of cake, and popped it in his mouth before handing the fork back.

“Wasn’t.”

“Until you ran into me, you mean?” His lips curved upward.

More like until that tsunami of emotions tried to take her down. But it was before that, wasn’t it? After all, she’d come to get carbs for a reason. Zoey stabbed her fork back into the slice, choosing to dissect the cake instead of her motivations. “Until you tried to steal my leftovers.”

Linc smirked. “Thought marriage meant what’s yours is mine.”

“So I get a teenager, and you get my dessert. I see how it is.”

He reclaimed the fork. “Guess we both get both.”

“That works too.”

They sat silently, the warmth of Linc’s shoulder pressing into her robe-covered one comforting now instead of alarming. Funny how everything felt less chaotic in her head when she was near him.

Or maybe that was just because now she couldn’t see his abs.

Speaking of—she couldn’t help it any longer.

“What’s this?” Zoey twisted toward him, touched the marred spot on his side. His skin was warm beneath her finger, despite the AC running in the kitchen, and his stomach shuddered at the contact.

She quickly pulled her hand away, clutching the cake plate again.

Her fingers must have been cold. It’s not like she had any effect on Linc—not like that .

In fact, if he knew the way she’d checked him out in the fridge light, he’d tease her mercilessly.

She schooled her features to casual, waited for his answer.

But he didn’t answer, didn’t even move—just remained silent and stoic next to her. She looked down at the crumbly remains of dessert, regret sneaking into her heart. Ugh, why had she asked? Just because they were married didn’t mean Linc was obligated to explain every little?—

“I had a tattoo removed years ago.”

Oh . She looked back at it now with fresh eyes, resisting the urge to trace the mottled outline with her finger. Now she could see the faint remains of ink, not scar tissue like she’d always assumed. “I can’t make out what it used to be.”

“That’s the point.”

“Well, what was it?”

Once again, he didn’t answer, so she turned her head to look at him, their faces inches apart.

Her breath caught—so much for casual. Up close, the dark stubble staining his jaw begged to be touched, the furrow between his thick eyebrows smoothed.

She gripped the plate tighter before she did something really dumb, like act on either of those impulses.

And risk breaking this fragile thing they’d created.

His eyes roamed her face. “Why do you want to know?”

She lifted her chin. Oops, bad idea, that just brought their faces closer. She inched away, tucked her hair behind her ear. “Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Well maybe I want to know so bad because you won’t tell me.”

“Ah, there she is—the stubborn thorn in my paw.” Linc tilted his head back against the island cabinet. “Figured you were in there somewhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been acting weird.”

“I am weird, Linc.”

“You know what I mean.” Now it was his turn to swivel toward her, dark hair falling across his forehead. “Things have felt off again lately.”

“Oh, you mean since I lost my business, became homeless, impulsively married my best friend, and helped take in the daughter he didn’t know he had?” The words exploded from her lips, and she sucked in a tight breath. Wanted to take them back.

But he didn’t seem offended. In fact, he only smiled, nodded slowly. “Yeah, since about then.”

“What a puzzle.” She rolled her eyes.

“Seriously. You doing okay with all this?” Linc asked. She studied his eyes, his expression deep, more serious than she’d ever seen without being accompanied by some kind of aggravation.

He was genuinely asking.

She nodded. “Talking like this—like we used to—helps.”

“Agreed. We’ve always been a team…maybe against my better judgment.” He bumped her shoulder. “And like I promised—nothing’s changed.”

She was starting to hate that phrase.

“I think we made the right decision.” Zoey lowered her voice despite the fact they were alone in the kitchen. “But every now and then, the gravity of what we’re doing hits, you know?”

“Tell me about it.” He blew out a breath, looked up at the ceiling where Amelia slept upstairs. “I think Amelia and I reached some kind of understanding today after the party.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. She seems to finally believe I didn’t know she existed. That I didn’t just bail on her all her life.” He released a slow breath. The refrigerator hummed behind them. “I think she’s going to give this a fighting chance.”

“Good.”

“Good, yes, but…also a lot of pressure.” He sighed. “Like I don’t even get three strikes.”

“You’re pretty decent at baseball.” Zoey shrugged. “Maybe you only need one.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Maybe.” He reached for the fork again. “What about you? Why are you up?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?” He speared a bite of cake.

“Why do you want to know?” she parroted, only half teasing.

He narrowed his eyes, and for the life of her, she couldn’t keep her eyes off his lips sliding the bite of cheesecake off the fork. “Are you always going to be this difficult?”

“Don’t think I’m letting the tattoo thing go indefinitely.”

“What about just for tonight?”

“Deal.” Zoey yanked the fork back, finished the last bite of cheesecake. “I guess I was up because…well, I didn’t grow up thinking I’d elope at a courthouse, you know?”

“I get it.” Linc shifted his weight, drew one sweat-pant-clad leg up. “As much grief as I give the guys for calling me a permanent bachelor, I kind of figured I wouldn’t ever get married at all.”

She pressed her lips together, thinking back over their ceremony. “No three-tiered cake. No professional photos.”

“No bachelor party.” He winked at her.

Zoey snorted, then sobered. “I didn’t even dance at my own wedding.”

“Well, dear , that’s because you didn’t have a traditional wedding.”

“Exactly my point, honey .”

The refrigerator hummed louder in the sudden silence.

“Do you think we made a mistake?” Her whisper carried across the dark kitchen.

With a sigh, Linc ambled to his feet. Her heart quickened. Was he going to bed? She’d gotten too negative. What was she thinking? She needed to be light for him. Sunshine. Joy.

Wasn’t that why he’d invited her into this whole thing in the first place? To help?

She looked up at him towering overhead, sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. You’re dealing with enough, way more than me, and here I am being super selfish and?—”

“Come ’ere.” Linc hauled her to her feet before she could even accept his offered hand.

She stood and started to let go, but he pulled her to him and clutched her hand between them. Her knuckles rested against his bare chest, and his other arm came around her back, hand lightly grazing her waist. What in the world?—

He began to sway, slowly, side to side, the rhythm steady and beckoning like the waves on the bay.

Dancing.

Tears burned the back of her eyes. Oh no. She couldn’t cry. Not in front of Linc.

She fought the lump in her throat. “But you don’t?—”

“Dance? Definitely not.” He tugged her closer. “Now hush.”

Gladly. She fell into the same pace, resting her upper body against his. His heart thumped under her ear, and hers matched his beat for beat. She closed her eyes, gripping his arm with her free hand, holding on for reasons she couldn’t begin to let herself explore.

He began to hum, low and slightly off-key, the deep bass ricocheting in his chest.

Her throat burned with unshed emotion, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Water dripped in the sink. The scent of Linc’s musky body wash wafted over her. His bicep under her fingers felt warm, strong. Familiar, somehow, though she rarely touched him.

Maybe they were making a huge mistake. Maybe this would all blow up in their faces. Maybe Elisa would get that chance to say told you so later after all.

But, for tonight, it was just them.

Zoey and Linc. Best friends. Sunshine and storm-clouds.

Dancing.