Page 34 of Meant for Me (Magnolia Bay #3)

With a growl in the back of his throat, he picked her up, pulled her against him, face-to-face.

Her heart threatened to burst. Joy…trepidation…

adrenaline. She easily wrapped her legs around his waist, held on tight.

His hands exploded fire on her hips, his lips inches from hers.

Her stomach trembled. What had he called her the other day—brave? Oh, she felt anything but.

Felt like she was throwing gasoline into a pile of fireworks.

Yet somehow—rather bravely—her arms snaked around his neck and held on. A question lit his eyes, and she forgot how to speak.

But she knew how to say yes. And this was her husband, after all.

Risking everything, she pulled him toward her, closing the short distance until their lips met.

* * *

Zoey’s lips were softer than he’d imagined, so surprising Linc inhaled a quick breath.

This was how he should have kissed her at her wedding—the way she deserved.

Full stop. Because nothing about Zoey was halfway or halfhearted.

She gave her best to everyone around her, to her own detriment, and rarely asked for anything in return.

He was more than happy to volunteer it.

Linc supported her with one arm, his other burying deep into her hair at the nape of her neck, deepening the kiss. His senses lit on fire. Zoey. His Zoey.

She kissed him back as if she’d wanted to for as long as he had. Maybe that was true, or maybe it’d never crossed her mind. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except her. This.

Them.

She turned her head, gasping for breath.

Apparently oxygen still mattered. But he couldn’t stop, couldn’t let her go.

He pressed a kiss against her cheek, her jaw, the dip in her neck.

She smelled like lingering perfume and cake.

Coconut deodorant. His jacket had long since slipped to the dock, but he didn’t care, stepped on it, even, as he fought to keep his balance, keep Zoey lifted within his reach.

Then her lips were back on his, and his head buzzed. He stumbled forward a step, swept away with the need rising in his chest. Not because she was homeless and he was obligated. Not because he couldn’t parent on his own. Not because of money or convenience or tax breaks.

Just because it was her.

His best friend.

He’d officially fallen for his wife.

Linc shifted Zoey, trying to get a better grip without breaking their kiss. She moved at the same time, knocking him off balance. He sidestepped, but the jacket bunched beneath his shoe.

And then they were both falling.

* * *

Linc sat in the living room, wrapped in a fleece blanket, bare feet propped on the ottoman as he waited his turn for the shower. He ran his hands over his cheeks, bristle scrubbing his fingers.

Guess that was one way to end a kiss.

Zoey had come up from the murky water shrieking, laughing, shocked, her dark hair plastered to her head.

Linc hauled her back onto the pier, and they’d laughed together, squishing up toward the house, her soggy dress probably weighing a million pounds.

He’d stripped off his wet shirt and tossed it in the laundry room, thrown on a dry tee and sweatpants while she dripped her way upstairs to the bathroom.

The impromptu cold dousing was exactly what he needed, to the point he’d wondered if an angel had tripped him instead of his own suit jacket.

What would have happened if Linc hadn’t knocked them both in? Would it have gone farther? They were married, but…He groaned. He hadn’t been thinking clearly—obviously. Maybe they’d rushed down the proverbial aisle, but rushing this would be the end of them.

If it wasn’t already.

His stomach clenched. What was Zoey thinking? Did she assume he’d taken advantage of the conversation, of the vulnerability between them? Did she want to keep moving forward as a real couple—a real marriage? Or was that kiss a one-time fluke?

What did they do from here?

“You stink.”

He looked up at Amelia’s voice, her wrinkled nose as she stood by the fireplace in a sweatshirt and pajama pants. Took him a moment to realize she meant literally. “Fell in the pond.”

“I wondered what all the yelling was.” She perched on the end of the recliner, rocking forward. “How’d that happen? And why are the stairs all wet?”

He opened his mouth, closed it. Narrowed his eyes. Uh…

“Never mind.” Amelia rolled her eyes. “I can figure it out.”

Linc held up one hand. “We tripped, fell off the pier. It was an accident.”

She seemed to accept that, thankfully. “Hope you don’t ever run with scissors.”

Ha. “Good advice. I take it you’ve heard that one before?”

“Well, yeah.” She pulled a strand of hair over her shoulder, started plucking at a split end. “Mom wasn’t that bad of a mom, you know.”

“I’m sure she wasn’t.” He shifted positions on the couch, angling to face her.

Amelia paused. “Why do you say that? I thought you were mad at her.”

He drew a breath. Couldn’t be honest with one woman in the house tonight and not the other—though the vulnerability felt strange on his lips. “I say that because, well. You’ve turned out kind of great.” He coughed. “I know she must have had some role in that, at least.”

Amelia plucked faster. To her credit and Linc’s surprise, she didn’t make a move to leave. “Mom did teach me how to make really good grilled cheese sandwiches.”

Linc nodded slowly, imagining the scene. Amelia and Kirsten in that nearly vacant, dirty apartment, cooking in a skillet. Maybe laughing together. Maybe it wasn’t all as bad as he’d thought. It couldn’t have been, or Amelia would have been more eager to leave that life.

He lowered his voice. “Tell me what else was good.”

Amelia’s hands drifted from her hair to her lap. “She liked driving with the windows down. I mean, the AC didn’t work a lot, so she had to, but she’d turn up the radio, make me sing with her.”

A smile tugged at Linc’s mouth. “Sounds fun.”

“And she said we’d get a dog one day, maybe when I was in high school.” Amelia’s smile faded, her eyes glossed over. “I guess that’s not happening now.”

Ouch. He hadn’t meant for this conversation to take a sad turn. But maybe it was long overdue.

“That’s why you wanted the phone, wasn’t it?” Linc dipped his head toward her. “You miss her. Wanted to be ready to talk again, if you got the chance.”

She sniffed, avoiding his gaze. Shrugged one shoulder.

“You can talk to her again, you know. As soon as we know where she is.” He frowned. “No one here is trying to keep you away from her. We just need to keep you safe, and teenagers can’t live alone.”

“I know.” Amelia’s voice cracked. “It was…hard…to think of good things just now.”

“I’m sure that’s normal to get choked up over it.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I meant hard because there weren’t a lot of things to pick from. We did some goofy stuff, but that’s because she never felt like a mom. Felt more like a babysitter, or an older friend.” She snorted. “Clearly she’s selfish.”

They sat in silence a moment. What did he say? This moment felt…important. But he couldn’t rail on Kirsten to their kid, even if she did deserve it.

He drew a breath. “Sometimes parents make bad decisions that affect their kids. Some are just bigger than others, have bigger consequences.”

She nodded. “Like this.”

“Yeah, like this.” Linc winced. “And I’m sure I’ll make mistakes too. Parents aren’t perfect—and I’ve only been one for about a month.”

Amelia side-eyed him, pursed her lips. “You’re not doing horrible.”

A compliment? This night kept getting more and more unreal.

“Even if you did ground me.”

There it was. He grunted. “For stealing? Right, how off balance that was of me.”

“I really am sorry about that.” She pulled at a thread in her pants. “I just knew you wouldn’t let me have a phone.”

Linc shrugged. “To be fair, you also never asked.”

She quirked a brow, interest lighting her face. “So can I have a phone?”

“Of course not.”

She huffed, but a smile slipped through.

He grinned. “Nice try, though.”

Overhead, the shower shut off.

“Guess I better go to bed.” Amelia stood from the chair, fiddling with her hair again as she headed across the room.

“Okay.” He wanted to tell her how glad he was she came downstairs, how glad he was that she was there .

But it felt like too much, too soon, and he didn’t want to scare her off.

It’d been a good conversation—he’d leave it at that.

He leaned back against the couch, readjusting his legs on the ottoman. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Amelia half turned, her eyes darting to meet his before flicking away. She paused. “Dad.”