Page 31 of Meant for Me (Magnolia Bay #3)

eighteen

“A lmost ready!” Elisa stood behind a dressing screen in the converted bride’s room in the Sunday school building of the church, changing into her bridal gown.

Zoey sat in a tiny blue child’s chair at an equally short table, adjusting the peach roses in her bouquet. “Can’t wait to see!” She inhaled the fresh aroma wafting up her nose. Her friend’s big day had finally come—maybe slightly more bittersweet than Zoey anticipated.

She shoved that part aside. This was her friend’s day. She grinned toward the screen, despite Elisa not being able to see her. “I still don’t believe you about my bridesmaid dress. I know you paid for it.”

“And I keep telling you I didn’t.” Elisa singsonged back from the other side.

“Don’t look at me either.” Rosalyn, who was standing in front of a full-length mirror, twisted around to smooth the back of her sage-green one-shouldered dress. Her long blonde hair hung in cascading ringlets down her back. “Sounds like a Mama D thing to do.”

Hmm. Maybe so. Zoey’s bank account had rejoiced at the surprise payoff, but it also felt odd, being taken care of.

Then again, it was a total Mama D move. Especially considering how Zoey had never worked up the nerve to ask Linc for help.

It was one thing to live in his house, use his utilities and baking ingredients…

but asking for money outright felt way too strange.

Especially considering how her latest attempt at snickerdoodles had flopped, being nearly as inedible as her attempt at cinnamon rolls. Maybe she needed to forget cinnamon.

Maybe she needed to forget baking. She needed the darn insurance payment to come through, and then she could stop being a burden.

“How have things been lately, Zoey?” Rosalyn continued primping. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you since your surprise party on the boat.”

Zoey pinched off a dried leaf, schooling her features to hide her churning thoughts.

“Good, mostly. Just busy.” The last two weeks had flown by in a flurry of disciplinary efforts toward Amelia—whose punishment for the shoplift attempt was helping out with Linc’s tours after school—dress fittings and wedding errands with Elisa, and researching new recipes online.

Somehow, though, her Google searches kept drifting away from baking and into food photography, casting her down several rabbit trails of lighting tips and lens comparisons.

“I understand busy.” Rosalyn bent closer to the mirror, ran a finger under her eye to clear a smudge of mascara. “I’ve been helping Cade study for the bar and added a second aerial class at Madam Paulette’s.”

“Which the kids love ,” Elisa called from behind the screen. “By the way, I’m almost ready for the zipper—please.”

“Of course! Just let us know,” Rosalyn called back. She lowered her voice and shot Zoey a wink. “I think Mama D was more of a Bridezilla when I did her makeup earlier than our actual bride is being.”

Zoey snorted. “I believe you.”

Rosalyn uncapped a lipstick. “Any more updates from Amelia’s social worker?”

“No, she’s checked in once, but that’s it.”

“I guess no news is good news, then.”

Linc sure hoped so. Zoey held the bouquet in front of her, adjusting the height of the baby’s breath. “It’s weird—there was so much happening when Amelia first arrived, and then with our eloping, but I think things have finally reached a bit of a lull.”

A nice lull, like when Zoey bobbed on Linc’s boat after a tour (since she still wasn’t allowed on the boat during a tour), stretched out in the sun, discussing fresh marketing ideas.

Some of her ideas he scoffed at (dressing up in a crawfish costume and spinning a sign at the end of the pier), others he didn’t dignify with a response at all (sky-writing in the clouds).

But a few of her suggestions made it into his black notebook. Subtly, of course, when he thought she wasn’t looking. Like partnering with Elisa to sell crawfish pies on the tours, and asking Amelia to design an official logo for Boiling Bayou.

It was fun, partnering with him. Like maybe she actually benefited other areas of his life too, not just this new parenting role. Made her feel like slightly less of a burden.

Just not enough to ask for cash.

“I saw Amelia in the church a while ago, picking a seat in the back.” Rosalyn smiled. “I complimented her dress, and she was quick to tell me it was yours.”

Zoey rested the bouquet on her knees. “Probably because she still thinks it’s too long on her, though it’s barely to her knees. I’m starting to understand that old nursery rhyme, about girls being sugar and spice.” She snorted. “It’s definitely both.”

“Sounds like a teenager, all right.” Rosalyn laughed as she took the other tiny chair across from Zoey.

“Some days I almost forget she’s been through so much. It’s like she’s always been around.” Zoey winced. “Then other days…”

Rosalyn twisted her lips to the side. “How are she and Linc doing?”

“They have their moments. But most of the time? Like oil and water.”

“It’s only been, what, about a month?” Rosalyn frowned. “It’ll get better.”

“That’s what I keep telling him.” Zoey and Linc seemed to have found a good rhythm between the two of them, at least. Fewer awkward moments, more banter.

Though sometimes, she caught Linc looking at her, his eyes serious, and she’d give just about anything to know what he was thinking.

Was he regretting their decision? Worried about Amelia?

Still jealous of how she and Amelia had bonded faster than he had?

She had no idea, and didn’t want to risk stirring the pot to ask.

“Ready!” Elisa stepped from behind the screen, her professionally made-up face glowing.

Zoey and Rosalyn jumped to their feet and gasped simultaneously.

“Elisa!” Zoey pressed one hand against her cheek. “Dunkin’ donuts, you look stunning.” The white, form-fitting strapless bodice, covered in a delicate lace pattern, flared at the hips and drifted into a princess gown of multiple soft layers.

“Absolutely perfect. Noah is going to want to skip his own reception and whisk you away.” Rosalyn grinned.

A flush of pink tinted Elisa’s contoured cheeks. “He better not, after what we paid for that cake. I should have made it myself, but?—”

“Don’t be silly. It’s your day to enjoy, not work.” Zoey stepped back as Rosalyn rushed behind Elisa to finish pulling the zipper.

“Speaking of, Zoey, I almost forgot to ask.” Elisa winced. “Our photographer has to leave after the ceremony—apparently her babysitter had an emergency, and she can’t stay all evening. Would you be able to take photos during the reception?”

A tiny thrill leapt in Zoey’s stomach. “Of course.”

“Even if it’s just with your phone.” Elisa waved one manicured hand through the air. “We have that photo booth we rented, but I really wanted some candids of people dancing too.”

“I actually have my camera in the car—I learned about this lighting hack, thought I’d try it during your big exit.” One of those rabbit trails she’d fallen down the other day.

“Oh, perfect.” Elisa turned as Rosalyn finished zipping. “Thank you.”

A heavy knock sounded on the door—clearly a man’s. Zoey raised her eyebrows at Elisa.

She shrugged. “Whoever it is can come in. Noah knows not to even try.”

Ha. Smart man. Zoey set down her bouquet and headed for the door as Elisa and Rosalyn moved to the mirror. She swung it open.

Linc stood in the carpeted hallway, buttoning the sleeve of the white dress shirt he wore under a fitted gray suit. His hair was down long, combed back with a bit of gel.

Just like Zoey had imagined while daydreaming with Rosalyn at Chug a Mug last month.

She swallowed, tried to speak. He seemed to be having the same problem, his gaze sweeping over her floor-length, sage-green matron-of-honor dress.

He cleared his throat, hands falling to his side. “You look…”

“Matronly?” She tried to remember how to breathe, but his gaze, lasered in on hers like that, made it hard to remember any basic survival skills.

He snorted. “Hardly.” Then he took her hand, raised it above her head. Inviting her to spin.

Zoey obliged, the chiffon skirt with a slight slit on one side flaring, then settling once more about her legs.

The sweetheart neckline dipped below her collarbone, while thin straps created cold-shouldered, sheer sleeves that fluttered around her upper arms. She’d felt pretty when she put it on a half hour ago, but now…

now she felt like the only woman in the church.

Which was pretty dangerous, all things considered.

She cleared her throat. “Need me to get that for you?”

Linc was still staring. “Get what?”

She pointed to the unbuttoned cuff of his sleeve.

“Oh. Right.” He held out his burly wrist, his musky cologne subtle but powerful.

“Is that why you came?” She fumbled with the button, her fingers shaky.

“Partly.” His voice was low, his skin warm against her fingers. Why couldn’t she operate her hands? “And partly because Cade sent me to check on you ladies.”

“Cade?” Seriously, it was like she’d never buttoned a button before. Zoey squinted, tugging the fabric tighter.

“Yeah, Noah’s nervous as all get out. I think Cade figured if Noah got a report on Elisa, he’d calm down a little.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Sweet?” Linc scoffed. “Nothing to be nervous about. He needs to just man up and get down the aisle.”

“Is that what you did?” Zoey raised her eyebrow at him, fingers pausing over his wrist. “Manned up and got down the aisle?”

“That was different.”

“Right.” Their wedding had been very different—a fact she kept trying to distract herself from, to no avail. Here, there were candles, and flower arrangements, and formal gowns. A decorated arch to stand under. Friends to stand with.

No robed judge or courthouse in sight.

But Zoey found her smile before it got away, squared her shoulders. She was happy for her friends—they deserved a dream day. Noah and Elisa were marrying for love. Zoey and Linc had married for friendship, for need.