Page 36 of Meant for Me (Magnolia Bay #3)

Zoey’s heart ached, could only imagine what was going on in Linc’s.

“Are you sure?” He stopped pacing to stare at Ms. Bridges, despite the question being one he’d repeated twice already with no different answer.

“We’re not sure, which is why I’m here.” Ms. Bridges crossed her arms over her blouse, sympathy turning her lips.

“Like I said, you were due a surprise visit, and on our last call, you mentioned you were attending church regularly, so when you didn’t answer this morning, I thought I’d try to find you here.

Figured it better to break the news in person. ”

“We appreciate it.” Zoey spoke softly, since Linc didn’t seem to be in a position to.

His face was hard, drawn. Fierce. Nothing like the Linc she’d kissed last night on the pier. “Who is he?”

Ms. Bridges hesitated. “That information would need to come from Ms. West.”

“But I don’t have that option, do I?” Anger sparked in Linc’s eyes, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault there’s another guy.”

Zoey swallowed. Surely Linc wasn’t jealous. Not after everything they’d learned about Kirsten. Still, Zoey had only kissed Linc, and felt like she could turn a truck over with her bare hands if another woman so much as smiled at him. And Linc and Kirsten had obviously been much closer than that.

Now, something feral lit Linc’s eyes, dark and protective, like a wild animal determined to keep its territory safe.

This wasn’t about Kirsten. This was about how much he’d come to love Amelia.

Zoey cleared her throat, focused on Ms. Bridges—and not on her accelerating heart rate. They had to figure this out. All of them. Calmly. “What do you recommend we do?”

“A paternity test would be the obvious solution, if you want a guaranteed answer as to who Amelia’s father is.” Ms. Bridges cast a cautious look at Linc. “But I don’t think you need to panic yet.”

A little late. Everyone in the room knew that, including Linc.

Ms. Bridges continued. “There’s more to this story.”

“Now what. A third potential father?” Linc scrubbed his hands down his face.

“No. But the other potential father passed away two years ago.”

Zoey stilled. Linc’s hands froze on his cheeks, then slowly lowered. “Really?”

“Our agency contacted Ms. West yesterday, after she’d been picked up by the local police.” Ms. Bridges cut her eyes to Linc, lips pursed. “And no, I can’t tell you what she was arrested for.”

He wearily motioned for her to continue.

“She asked about Amelia, and we told her that she was safe with her dad. That was when Ms. West informed us that you might not be Amelia’s biological father after all. That it was either you or this other man.”

A muscle in Linc’s jaw jumped, and he resumed pacing. “Why did she only tell Amelia about me, then?”

Zoey had the same question. She wanted to go to him, take his hand. Support him. But the fire in his eyes—and her uncertainty over exactly what it was motivated by—kept her rear end glued to the blue chair.

“Who knows? Maybe she didn’t want to give Amelia a bad impression.

Maybe she never thought it would matter.

” Ms. Bridges sighed. “I know these situations are messy. But the good news is, you’re not in immediate danger of losing custody of Amelia.

Kirsten will be detained for some time, and with this arrest added to her existing record, I don’t see a full custody plea going in her favor—if she were to even request it. ”

Linc nodded, pacing, clearly processing.

Zoey tilted her head. “So why the paternity test?”

“To have proof of parental rights, if you were to go to court in the future. But also because this could mean you’re not obligated to care for Amelia.”

Linc’s head snapped to stare at her. “Obligated?”

Ms. Bridges lifted both hands. “I’m only saying, a paternity test could give you more options should you want them.”

“Of course I don’t want them,” Linc grunted. “Amelia stays with us. Final.”

As attractive as Linc had been last night, all dressed up for the wedding, it was nothing compared to how appealing he was fighting for his daughter.

Who might not even be his. Her stomach churned. How would they address this?

“At least now we know where Ms. West is, and she knows Amelia is safe.” Ms. Bridges nodded at them. “I can relay a message to her, from you or Amelia, if you’d like.”

“Can Amelia talk to her?” Linc asked, shooting Zoey a look. She knew what that question cost him, and her respect for him swelled further. “We think she’s been wanting to.”

“I don’t know that seeing her mom in jail would be in her best interest, but that’s a decision for you two to make.” Ms. Bridges picked up her briefcase. “The paternity test is also available if you want it.”

He lifted his chin. “Don’t need it.”

“That’s fine.” Ms. Bridges shrugged, her eyes studying Linc, then Zoey, and back again. “I suppose Ms. West being detained right now worked out for good in this particular case.”

Like her favorite verse in Romans promised.

Zoey took a deep breath. Maybe Linc would believe her now. All of this was working toward good—for Linc, for Zoey, for Amelia. For their family. Even for Kirsten. Maybe she’d be forced to clean her life up from here, start making better decisions.

Become a mother that Amelia could get to know again one day.

Ms. Bridges checked her watch, began walking toward the door. “Something official will have to be done in the future to maintain permanent custody, but for now, if you feel it best not to upset Amelia with the news, I understand.”

“Oh, no, we’ll still tell her.” Zoey looked at Linc, at the firm press of his lips, the little shake of his head. She frowned. “Wait. We won’t?”

His face was granite. “No reason to. Nothing is changing.”

“But Linc…I think we need to be honest. She deserves the full story.”

His jaw set. “Nothing. Is. Changing.”

She opened her mouth, then shut it. Nodded slowly. “Okay.” Denial it was. Because everything about that particular promise of his hadn’t been kept so far.

### (Sunday night)

Linc cracked his neck to the side as he walked through his house, toward the light glowing from the kitchen. First he was a dad, now maybe he wasn’t. The ultimate roller coaster he hadn’t wanted to ride.

But the question at hand ultimately meant nothing. Amelia was his .

She had to be.

Because if she wasn’t, then all of this had been for nothing. His and Zoey’s marriage, his bonding with Amelia, their developing family.

He’d lose it all.

He walked into the kitchen, the overhead light bright against the darkness outside. Zoey sat at the table, unclaimed photo prints from the wedding covering the wooden surface. Had that only been yesterday? Felt like a week’s worth of events had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

He studied the way she bent over the pictures, one arm braced on the table, the other propping up her chin as she studied each one before adding it to the growing stack.

His heart twisted. They still hadn’t talked.

The kiss was still hanging over them, like an anvil on an old Looney Tunes cartoon, waiting to drop.

And now this. How was he supposed to focus on that—on them —now?

His life had become a giant question mark. Too many important things pulling at him at once. He wanted to sink onto the couch, throw a blanket over his head.

Or better yet, kiss Zoey again until all of this went away.

“Hey.” Zoey looked up. Her smile immediately calmed a bit of his stress, and she scooted the chair beside her out from the table with her foot, an invitation.

The wedding band on her finger glinted under the kitchen lights, and he wanted to take her hand.

Kiss her palm, the move that had started everything between them the night before.

But he fisted his hands, kept them to himself as he sank onto the chair. It’d been a wild, unsettling day—if he opened that door now, no one would be able to shut it. “These all from the wedding?” Obviously, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“Yep.” She moved a pic of Mama D and Farmer Branson from one pile to the next. “I’ll surprise her with this one. Maybe frame it first.”

“She’ll like that.”

Zoey pointed to the next print of Noah and Elisa shoving cake in each other’s mouths. “Funny what you can see in a photo that you miss in real life, isn’t it?” In the background, behind Noah’s shoulder, was Trish—glaring at Sawyer Dubois engaged in conversation with Harper.

Linc snorted. “That’ll be interesting later.”

“Like I said.” She tapped another stack of photos together and grinned. “Funny what you can see sometimes.”

They sat in silence, looking down at the photos. He stared until his vision blurred and the images swam.

Zoey’s voice was soft. “She has your eyes, Linc.”

He grunted, unable to meet her eyes. “Lots of people have dark eyes.”

“She has your attitude too.”

He cut her a look, then.

Zoey tapped his arm. “I think you’re worried for nothing.” A beat. “But I do think you should tell Amelia.”

He stiffened. “I don’t know that I want to talk about it right now.” Every decision he’d made lately felt like a ticking time bomb to destruction—to the loss of everything he’d just gained. Discussing it put him at risk of having to admit maybe some of those decisions were wrong.

“But think about it.” Zoey pointed upstairs, toward Amelia’s room, where she’d disappeared after having spent the afternoon with Mama D. “Honesty is a big deal to her. If she hears about it another way, she’ll be hurt you didn’t tell. Might break trust.”

His frustration ebbed. Zoey was right. But—“I don’t want to give her a reason to leave.”

Zoey frowned. “She won’t leave. She doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Maybe she won’t physically leave, but she won’t think of me as her dad anymore.” Linc swallowed. “We just got there…It’s too risky.”

“Love takes risks.” Zoey clamped her hand over his. “Personally, I think she can handle it. She’s pretty mature for her age, after everything she’s been through.”

“I agree. But not right now.” He shook his head. “Later.”

Maybe.

His breath tightened. He’d just wanted to come downstairs, forget about that horrible conversation with Ms. Bridges today that changed nothing , and reset. Veg with Zoey on the couch or even help make another inedible cookie recipe, if she wanted.

He didn’t have anything beyond that to give right now.

“Well, Ms. Bridges said she can pass messages to Kirsten in jail.” Zoey leaned forward, her eyes earnest. “What if you asked her about giving up her legal rights? Making this official now.”

“What? No .” Why was Zoey being so pushy about this? Linc pulled his arm free, edged away from the table. “That’s a horrible idea.” He was being overly blunt again, but he hated feeling pressured.

Zoey didn’t understand.

“Why not?” She blinked at him.

He could explain— should explain—but the words stuck in his throat. The memories, raw, unfiltered in his head. Hot tears on his young face. Muffled screams—his own. The social worker tugging him through the doors, his dad’s stone-cold face.

Linc bolted from his chair. “I said no .”

She looked up at him, confusion and hurt in her gaze. “I just thought that way you wouldn’t have to worry so much about?—”

“You don’t get it.” His voice shook. He was always going to worry.

“Then help me understand.”

Maybe he was ready to pray with Pastor Todd at church—lot of good that had done so far—but he wasn’t ready to be this vulnerable with anyone. Not even Zoey.

Maybe especially not Zoey.

He was Linc . He had the reputation to maintain, the shell that had kept him safe this far. Alone, maybe, but safe. Look what had happened the minute he let his guard down.

Everything went up in smoke.

He shoved his chair back under the table. “Just because she likes you better doesn’t mean you know what’s best.”

Her eyes flashed with hurt. “Fine.”

They stared at each other, and he hated himself more with every blink of her eyes.

He made a conscious effort to control his tone. “I’m going out on the boat. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Sure.” Her voice stiff, Zoey went back to her photos, flipping through the pile she’d just stacked.

Regret gnawed. He hesitated in the doorway, not wanting to leave it like that. Wanting to kiss her forehead, assure her it wasn’t her. It was him .

But he couldn’t do that without telling the whole story, and he’d never done that before.

And couldn’t start today—not with everything else happening, everything else that was still unsaid between them.

A month ago, he was a bachelor with a crawfish business, content to spend his evenings in the gym or in front of the TV.

He’d never even considered getting a dog, for crying out loud.

Now he had the weight of two women he cared about resting permanently on his shoulders. Their lives. Their futures.

He wasn’t equipped for this—how could he be?

It was all too much.

He turned and walked out.