Page 37 of Meant for Me (Magnolia Bay #3)

twenty-one

D unkin’ donuts, but that man drove her nuts.

Roughly an hour after Linc stormed away, Zoey packed up the pictures and put them in her room on her dresser to hand out later.

She couldn’t focus on the photos anymore tonight, even though she wanted to.

Even though they’d been a surprisingly pleasant distraction from the fact her real career was permanently on hold.

Everything in her heart seemed on pause too, until she and Linc could talk. Maybe, when he got back from the boat and cooled off, they could work through all of it.

Including what happened between them last night.

Her lips tingling from the memory, she shut the dresser drawer with a snap, waffling between annoyance and fear.

Annoyance, because if Linc wanted to be a team like he kept saying, then he couldn’t keep pushing her away when things got complicated.

She’d never let him get away with that before as a friend, and she couldn’t let him now that they were married.

Even if part of her wanted to push him right off the dock in return.

She ran her finger over the dresser handle, her anger wilting a little. There was plenty of annoyance, yes—but also fear that she would fail. She had to keep it together, stay strong, stay positive.

Because who was going to hold all this together if she fell apart too?

Zoey headed back down the hall, pausing in the doorway of Linc’s bedroom. His familiar, musky cologne lingered in the air, along with the spice of his aftershave. She closed her eyes and breathed a lungful of it all, briefly considering flopping on his bed and inhaling his pillow.

There was clearly another part of her that still very much wanted to kiss him again, wanted to see where this relationship could really go.

If he’d ever let it.

Music played from Amelia’s room, per usual. Zoey hadn’t heard much from her since she’d gotten back from lunch with Mama D—also not unusual. Had she been that much of a hermit when she was a teenager? Or was she just hurting?

Zoey shut her bedroom door behind her, then knocked softly on Amelia’s. “It’s Zoey.”

No response. She tapped again, louder.

Nothing.

Zoey edged the door open, slowly. “Amelia?”

Silence, save for Evanescence blaring.

She pushed the door all the way open. The room was empty. Amelia’s bed was rumpled, though, like she’d been in it earlier. A book lay open on the floor, the spine bent. Pages of doodles and a pencil were abandoned on the desk, under lamplight.

Maybe she’d gone to the bathroom while Zoey was in her room—to which point, Zoey better get out of her room or risk the wrath if she got caught.

A frame sitting on the desk caught her eye—the cracked one from the surprise reception party.

Zoey walked toward it, squinting. Was that— oh .

She pressed a hand against her chest. The family photo from the wedding that weekend.

Amelia in her red boa, Zoey with her cardboard mustache. Linc, with his bow tie.

Except Linc wasn’t smiling at the camera, which would have been shocking to her. He was smiling at her .

Funny what you can see in a photo that you miss in real life.

The way Linc looked at her…Zoey swallowed. Maybe the kiss last night hadn’t been a fluke. Maybe the slow dances…the gentleness he’d shown…maybe it meant something, and she just needed to wait this out.

Give him time.

Zoey’s eyes burned, and she picked up the frame, running her finger over the long crack. Amelia had kept it anyway, saved it—and done exactly what Rosalyn had said to do. For your family …

Linc needed to see this, bad. Maybe it’d mend a few of his own cracks.

She carefully replaced the frame where it was on the desk, next to the open notebook of doodles. Turned, being careful not to trip over the backpack that was always set at the foot of the bed.

Zoey blinked. The backpack was gone.

Something heavy pressed on her chest. Had she even seen Amelia in the last few hours? Zoey thought back. She’d heard her music…but definitely hadn’t heard the front door open or shut. Amelia hadn’t gone on the boat with Linc, had she?

He hadn’t exactly seemed in the mood for company.

Zoey spun a slow circle, taking in more details of the room. The open closet door, the pajama pants sticking out of the dresser drawer. The curtains pulled back…the window cracked.

She rushed to the window, the frame barely lifted as if someone—Amelia?—had left it in a hurry.

Zoey peered out the window into the darkness, toward the ground. It’d be an easy enough descent with a backpack, down the split-level roof, to the dormer window, then just a hop to the patio cover and a four-foot drop to the ground, if she dangled over the side.

Her heart hammered, and she tried to control the erratic pace with a deep breath.

Just because the window was open a smidge didn’t mean Amelia had run away.

And the backpack could easily just be downstairs, or even left in Linc’s truck after church.

No need to panic. After all, why would Amelia frame that photo of them all, just to up and run away?

Unless…

Zoey closed her eyes, remembering the conversation with Linc. What if Amelia had overheard them, gotten upset?

No. She was being paranoid.

She strode back toward the bed, pausing to pick up the creased book from the floor. Shut it, dropped it on the messy covers.

And stared at the empty spot on the rumpled pillow case.

Frederick, the ratty unicorn Amelia had brought back from her apartment, was missing.

* * *

Stars twinkled overhead as Linc let his boat drift across the bay. He hadn’t dropped the anchor, just allowed the pontoon to go where it wanted.

Free.

Aimless.

Alone.

He propped his foot and leaned back in the captain’s chair, looking at the sky.

He shouldn’t have come out here. Shouldn’t have left Zoey like that.

Linc closed his eyes, groaned. If Noah or Cade had acted like he had, he’d have told them in no uncertain terms what idiots they were.

Hadn’t he done exactly that when Cade almost screwed everything up with Rosalyn a few months ago?

Problem was, Linc didn’t have anyone to tell him this kind of stuff, because he didn’t let anyone close enough to find out.

He opened his eyes, picked out a constellation. He’d started opening up to Noah a little, but the man was on his honeymoon now—hardly the right time to confess Linc’s idiocy. It’d have to wait until he got back. But he needed to change something , or he was going to mess it all up.

Those two women in his life deserved more.

He shifted in the chair. There had to be a way to make things right with Zoey without having to dive into the gritty parts of his past, the parts that no one knew—save for a social worker he’d heard passed away a few years ago.

Linc’s cell chimed from his pocket, and he briefly thought about letting it ring. If it was Zoey, they really needed to talk in person, and he hadn’t yet figured out what to say. But he couldn’t ignore her, either.

He answered the call.

Zoey’s voice immediately filled his ear, panicked. “Amelia’s gone.”

“What?” He rocked upright, feet landing on the boat floor with a thump. “What do you mean?”

“I went to her room, and she’s gone.”

“Maybe she’s in the shower.” Dumb. He knew it the second the words left his mouth. Of course Zoey would have checked other rooms before calling him in a panic.

“She’s not in the house. I’ve looked everywhere, even out by the pond. And your boat is still pulled up on shore.”

“Did she leave a note?” He grabbed the wheel, started aiming the pontoon back toward the dock. Where would she have gone? And why? She had no idea about Ms. Bridges’ visit. No one else in the church knew, either, except Pastor Todd, and he wouldn’t have said anything to her.

Unless…

Zoey’s voice pitched. “There’s nothing. And Linc…” She inhaled. “Her backpack and her unicorn are gone too.”

A word he hadn’t used since getting back in church filled his mind. He pressed his lips together.

“I think she overheard us.”

“Impossible. We would have heard her in the hallway too.” His heart hammered. Water sprayed as he gunned it for the slip.

“She’s a teenager . They’re practically born with ninja skills.”

“Say she did, then.” He thought back over the conversation. “What did we say that she could have?—”

What if you asked her about giving up her legal rights? Making this official…

That’s a horrible idea.

He gripped the wheel, dread pinching his gut. “I screwed up.”

“ We screwed up.”

“No, you had this one right.” Zoey always had it right. Why did she always have it right? “If I had told her like you suggested, she wouldn’t have misheard.”

“We don’t know for sure that’s what happened.”

“Why else would she leave?”

“There’s something else.” Zoey’s voice was muffled. “Hang on, I’m sending you a photo.”

The dock rapidly approached, and he expertly swung the boat into place. His cell dinged. He looked at the display, opened the text.

A photo in Amelia’s room, of the three of them from the wedding.

Displayed in the broken frame.

His chest tightened. “She must have done that earlier today.”

“And then heard us tonight?”

Of all the timing…

“It’ll be okay.” Zoey’s voice rallied, though weaker than usual. “We’ll find her. It’s Magnolia Bay. She couldn’t have gone far.”

Unless she hitch-hiked to the interstate, up to New Orleans or beyond. But no need to put that fear in Zoey’s mind. “I’ll call Sheriff Rubart.” He grabbed his keys, climbed out of the boat. “How long do you think she’s been gone?”

“An hour, maybe two? But Linc, he won’t do anything until she’s been gone twenty-four hours.”

“Oh, he will. Trust me.” Determination—fueled by raw fear—shot through his veins. Not even Sheriff Rubart would cross him on this. “Meet me at the jail. We can start from there.” Thunder rumbled overhead as he hung up.

Great.

They could really use some sun right about now.