Page 30 of Meant for Me (Magnolia Bay #3)

Zoey pressed her fingers against her temples.

“How do we handle this? We completely skipped potty training and the ‘don’t touch the hot stove’ lessons most parents get to teach first.” She ran her hands down her cheeks, her chest heating.

“Now we have to go straight to the ‘stealing is wrong’ lessons?”

Mama D murmured in sympathy. “I know it’s a lot, hon. Parenting isn’t for the faint of heart. But you’ll get it.” She hesitated. “That’s actually why I told you first—because you’ll know the right way to tell Linc. Maybe you can even talk to Amelia before he has to know.”

There it was—Linc’s bad-boy reputation, biting him. Everyone assumed he’d have a temper, go off on Amelia just because he was a grumpy kind of guy. Zoey knew better.

But while she didn’t think he’d yell at Amelia, it was entirely possible he’d say the wrong thing right out of the gate. He needed time to process this information before he addressed it.

Zoey sighed. “I’ll talk to her. Break the ice.”

“Good.” Mama D nodded briskly. “We had a wonderful time outside of that. She warmed up to me after a little while.” She chuckled. “I think my springing for ice cream helped.”

“Thanks for taking her out.” Zoey hugged her, and for a moment, she couldn’t help but wonder if her own mom would have been this involved. She couldn’t even tell her she was married yet because of the lack of cell service where they were serving.

But this wasn’t about Zoey. It was about Amelia.

She pulled back. “Guess I better go figure this out.”

Mama D slid back inside her car, lifted one hand in a wave. “I have no doubt you will, dear.”

Zoey stared toward the lit house and blew out a breath. That made one of them.

* * *

Linc had gone to bed roughly half an hour ago, but once again, couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts jumping through his mind, like errant sheep. Or what had Zoey said—rabid squirrels?

Would the tours be enough to keep Boiling Bayou in the black before next crawfish season? What else could he do until spring to keep things going?

Why wouldn’t Amelia tell him about her night? Was that a normal teenager thing or a she-didn’t-want-to-talk-to-him-specifically thing?

Would Kirsten come back? Should he give Ms. Bridges the green light for court?

And the one thought that kept circling, the most rabid of them all. The only one not in question form.

He wanted to kiss Zoey.

No denying it. He’d thought about it in the kitchen that night, at the gym earlier. But this…this was different. This was need.

This was bad.

Linc flopped on his side, tucked the pillow under his neck.

The ceiling fan whirred overhead. He’d finally confessed the truth to Noah while they were docking the boat and the women stood on the pier, chatting about wedding plans.

He sort of figured there was a good chance Zoey had already told Elisa the conditions of their marriage, anyway, so Noah was the safest bet. And Linc had to say something.

Noah hadn’t seemed surprised, which meant he had probably been right about Zoey spilling the beans to Elisa. “Sometimes relationships take time to develop.”

Linc had wrapped the anchor, set it back in the bench compartment. “We’ve been friends forever—you heard the story.”

“Talking about more than friends, bro.” Noah clapped his shoulder. “You remember how long it took me and Elisa to figure it out. We went from one romantic summer as teenagers, to essentially worst enemies—until my grandfather’s will forced us to work together. Ended the family feud.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have a grandfather giving me instructions from beyond the grave.” Linc snorted.

“No, but you’ve got a daughter from the past giving you motivation. I’d say that’s pretty close.” Noah grinned, then sobered. “Look, you made the decisions that put you here. So why not fully commit? Give it a chance.”

“I don’t think Zoey wants that.” Linc brushed it off as thinking of her, trying to look noble. But deep down, it wasn’t so much fear that Zoey didn’t want to take a chance with him. It was fear that she did .

And that he’d still eventually end up alone. Not be someone worth staying for.

Judging by the look Noah shot him, he probably could tell Linc’s altruism was misplaced. But he didn’t push it. “You’re married now, man, so you got time. Pray about it.”

He’d shut the compartment lid. “I’m sure Zoey’s got that covered.” God would rather hear from her, anyway. Not that he’d tell Noah that.

Noah stepped onto the dock, turned to look down at Linc as if he’d somehow heard it anyway. “You can pray too, you know. There’s no quota on topics per household.”

“I know.” Linc hesitated. “I’m just out of practice.”

He believed in God as a kid, thanks to his mother’s early efforts—he still did.

But his foster parents hadn’t instilled much of a lifeline in that department over the years, and getting tangled up with misdemeanors, recreational drugs, and then Kirsten hadn’t helped.

After all that, he’d kept his head down, went to church as often as he could get up on Sundays.

Figured he owed it to God to straighten up. But that’s where he kept his distance.

Zoey believed God worked teenage mistakes and commercial fires for good, and he could see her logic there.

It was much harder to see the good in his own father turning him over to the courts.

Linc abruptly threw back the covers, stood up. Enough sheep counting. He pulled on a T-shirt and house shoes, the boring gray slippers only reminding him of Zoey’s smiley-faced ones, and there went the rabid squirrels again.

Probably wasn’t anything good in the fridge, but even a glass of water might help at this point.

He shuffled into the hallway, pausing at the light shining down the hall from Amelia’s room. What was she still doing up? Last he’d glimpsed the clock—quite a few squirrels ago—it’d been nearing eleven p.m.

He headed to knock on the door, which stood just a little ajar, but stopped again at the muffled voices inside. Amelia’s—and Zoey’s. He shook his head. Leave it to Zoey to initiate girl talk at nearly midnight. He started to head for the kitchen.

“…don’t tell Dad.”

He stopped short. Craned his head.

“Amelia, I can’t do that.”

He released a little sigh at Zoey’s logical response. Of course they wouldn’t gang up on him like that.

“Please?” Amelia’s voice shifted into tearful begging. “He’ll be so mad if he finds out I tried to steal a phone.”

She what ? His chest tightened.

Her young voice pitched. “What if he kicks me out?”

“He’s not going to do that.”

Of course he wouldn’t do that. But what was she thinking? Shoplifting while out with Mama D? He bit back a groan.

“But he’ll be mad.”

Silence.

That part Zoey couldn’t refute, because he was mad. A lot mad. Mad enough to knock down the door but not mad enough to realize he shouldn’t.

Linc drew a shaky breath. At least Zoey was on his side, had his back. He’d cool off, talk to Amelia in a little while. Sucked she didn’t trust him enough to tell him before she told Zoey, or even tell them at the same time—but at least she trusted one of them.

That was something. He’d hold on to that.

“…when Mama D told me, I was mad too.”

Oh. So Zoey had known first? He frowned, inched closer to the door. Why hadn’t anyone told him?

“You were?” Amelia’s voice shrank.

“Of course I was. That’s a pretty shady thing to try, especially when someone is doing something nice for you, like taking you shopping.”

“I know.” Her voice was tinged with regret. “I said I was sorry.”

“And I believe you.” A beat. “Parents can get mad. That doesn’t mean they don’t care—or that they don’t want you around.”

“You’re not my parent.”

Zoey’s sigh was long. “I know.”

“But I’m glad you’re here.”

Oh. That sentiment should have been nice, but it hit Linc like a sucker punch in the gut. Zoey, Amelia trusted. Zoey, she confided in. Zoey, she was glad was there. Not him.

Would it ever be him?

Then again, how much could he really blame Amelia? Zoey was his comfort too. The one person he wanted around when things were bad. The one person he wanted on his team.

Then Zoey’s voice sounded again, quieter this time. “I guess I don’t have to tell him right now.”

Aye . So much for a team. His stomach flipped. He’d heard plenty for one night.

Before he did something dumb, he stalked to the kitchen, yanking open the fridge door and staring blindly at the meager contents. Half-eaten bag of grapes. Square of cheese. End of a gallon of milk. He didn’t know what he wanted.

Well, yes he did. But he couldn’t have it.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring, cold air rushing over his face, but at some point, footsteps sounded. He turned from the fridge.

“Oh, hey. We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Zoey, her hair gathered up in a messy bun, grinned at him as she tightened the belt on her fuzzy robe. Her face fell as he didn’t smile back. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing.” He bumped the fridge door shut with his hip, casting the kitchen into shadows save for the dim light over the sink. “Just processing the fact my daughter shoplifted and my wife was going to keep it from me.” Almost tripped over the W-word, but managed not to stutter.

The anger helped.

Zoey crossed her arms over her chest, eyes flashing. “You were listening at the door?”

Incredible. He crossed his arms, mirroring her position. “ That’s what bothers you? Not the fact you two were ganging up on me?”

A bit of her fire dimmed. She uncrossed her arms. “That’s not what happened.”

“Keeping secrets. My kid is already convinced I’m the bad guy—you’re just confirming it with antics like that.” He jabbed his hand toward Amelia’s room. “You’re making her think I’m not safe. That I can’t be trusted.”

“Look, I’ve never been a parent before either, okay?

” Zoey stepped forward, finger pointing toward his chest. “I’m doing the best I can.

Mama D implied I might need to talk to Amelia first, because you might do something rash.

” She narrowed her eyes. “Ironically, like get mad before you have all the facts.”

“I have the facts.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “She tried to steal a phone, got busted, ‘apologized,’ and now she’s working one over on you with all the compliments. To stay out of trouble.”

“That’s not how it happened.”

“She’s manipulating you.”

Zoey blew out her breath. “Will you just listen for a second?”

Anger was easier to manage than rejection. He braced his hands on the countertop. “I did listen, remember? Heard plenty, trust me.”

“Well, maybe if you listened a little longer, you’d have heard why she wanted the phone in the first place.”

“To be cool? To see if she could get away with it?” Linc gestured with a wild wave toward Amelia’s room. “I’m sure I can figure that out. Not that it matters.”

“You missed one.” Zoey glared.

“What? To pawn for cash?”

“To be able to talk to her mom.”

Oh.

Oh .

The faucet dripped. They stared at each other, chests heaving. The back of Linc’s eyes burned. His temples throbbed.

Then Zoey wilted, her entire body slumping toward the counter. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.” The word barely escaped his throat. He opened his arms. Even he could tell this was the time for a hug.

Maybe needed one himself.

She flew into him, tucking herself against his side. “You’re probably right.”

“No. You’re right.”

“Maybe we both are.”

He leaned down, spoke against her hair. “This parenting stuff is hard.”

She pulled away, just enough to look up at him. “Will be a lot easier if we stay on the same team.”

“How? She trusts you more.” He didn’t try to hide the defeat in his voice.

Zoey’s tone softened. “Only because she has less to lose with me.”

Huh. Maybe so.

Her eyes flickered. “Give her time, Linc. And some patience. She’ll come around.”

He pulled her back against him, ignoring squirrels and needs and what-ifs. Just grateful for the fact Zoey was there, and cared enough to do this gigantic task with him. “When did you become an expert in this stuff?”

“I’m not.” She snuggled a little closer, nearly undoing him. He tightened his grip, her voice muffled against his chest. “I just…I know you.”

That she did.

And somehow, despite that fact, she was still there.

But for how long?

He held her, barely daring to breathe, as if she might dissipate in his arms. As if this whole thing they’d made might go up in smoke. And then what would he do?

But at this point, even if she really did stay long-term, would their carrying on as they were now—friends, roommates, teammates—ever going to be enough?

Was he still destined to be alone, even in a house full of family?

Eventually, Linc let go of her, and Zoey smiled at him, a truce in her eyes. They went to their separate rooms, every fiber of Linc’s heart and body fully aware that she was only a hallway away. And somehow, at the same time, a light year away.

In the midst of all the questions circling his mind, one thing was certain—he wouldn’t be getting a wink of sleep tonight.