Page 5 of Meant for Me (Magnolia Bay #3)

three

Z oey shut the heavy front door of the Blue Pirogue quietly behind her, not wanting to wake Elisa in her room down the hall on the first floor. Noah slept upstairs in the master that would eventually be theirs after the wedding, while Zoey conveniently bummed the room closest to the kitchen.

She eyed the full container of ruined cookies in her hands and winced. Maybe not that conveniently. At least Linc had told her the truth before she gave them to anyone else. She’d need to tweak her recipe, maybe use less salt. More vanilla. Something.

She crossed the welcoming lobby, full of potted ferns and carpet runners and fresh paint from this past spring when Noah had finished renovating the place, and headed for the kitchen to dump the cookies in the trash.

Goldilocks. She snorted. She should make Linc real porridge after all that.

Would serve him right. Still, his words brought a smile, a rush of warmth and familiarity as she moved stealthily through the lower level of the inn.

Linc was consistent, at least, in this current season of her life where nothing else seemed to be.

She knew where she stood, what to expect from her grumpy best friend.

Even if he was rude about her baking efforts.

A light shone from the kitchen, and she paused around the corner. Another guest enjoying a midnight snack?

Low voices rumbled. “…booked solid.”

“That’s great!”

“It would be. Except we’re losing money.”

Zoey frowned. Oops. Noah and Elisa. She probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Back-stepping, she shifted the Tupperware to her other hand. She could dump the cookies somewhere else and?—

“…Zoey.”

She stopped again. They were talking about her?

“What do you mean?” Elisa’s voice sounded confused.

Noah’s tone lowered, nearly imperceptible. “We really need her room.”

“Noah, she’s my best friend.”

“She’s my friend too. But this is hundreds of dollars a week we’re not bringing in—plus the groceries.”

Zoey braced one hand on the doorframe. Guilt nudged.

She’d given Elisa some grocery money, and despite her friend’s insistence it was plenty, she knew it hadn’t been enough to actually cover her costs at the inn.

But her bank account was running so low…

she really needed to get some recipes figured out for this catering venture.

“She has nowhere else to go. She couch-surfed for weeks before coming here.”

Noah sighed. “I know.”

“And it’s only temporary.” Elisa’s voice pleaded.

“You really think the claims department is going to just suddenly hand her a check? After all this time?” Noah’s tone dipped. “It’s been almost a month.”

“She believes they will.”

“Zoey’s an optimist.”

She winced. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?

No one wanted a Negative Nancy. Not her friends, her old boss, her missionary parents…

Even now, her mom’s voice from childhood rang in her mind.

Tired after a long night of revival services.

Weary after prayer vigils and ministry. You’re always my happy sunshine, Zoey. Never change.

What other choice did she have?

As if reading her mind, Noah continued. “Being optimistic is great, but I’m trying to be realistic. She needs a long-term plan if this drags out much longer. We can’t keep this up indefinitely—we’re paying for a wedding and a honeymoon.”

“I know. But we can’t just kick her out.”

Zoey winced.

“Of course I’m not kicking her out.” Noah’s tone gentled. “I just wanted you to know—business is up, but we’re turning away guests.”

“You know what would also solve this problem?” Elisa didn’t wait for an answer. “Throwing your name in the hat for mayor. You could still run the inn too. It’d be extra income doing something positive for the town you love.”

Noah sighed. “The town I didn’t even know I wanted to stay in until I found you.”

“That was then. This is now.” Elisa’s voice gentled. “Even my father warmed up to you. You’d be great at being mayor, sugar, and you know it.”

She’d stood there way too long. Zoey eased away from the door, face burning. Not only was she a financial drain, she was an eavesdropper.

She slowly backed up and turned, but her shoe caught the carpet runner and she tripped. Oomph . The container of cookies dropped from her hands and landed with a loud thump on the hardwood floor.

Oh no. She scrambled upright just as Elisa and Noah came hurrying from the kitchen. They both wore sweatshirts, jeans, and matching wide-eyed expressions.

“Sorry for the noise. Tripped on my way to the kitchen.” Zoey stood, sheepish, hoping they couldn’t tell she’d overheard. She gestured with the container as if proof.

“Ooh, cookies.” Noah’s brown eyes lit, and Elisa elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh, you don’t want these. It was a bad batch.” She clutched it to her chest, filling her voice with cheer. “I’m actually glad you’re up. I wanted to tell you both I got a new place to stay for a while.”

Hopefully.

“Oh really?” Noah beamed. “That’s great.”

Elisa elbowed him again. “Where?” She tilted her head, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “That was fast.”

“With a friend.” Zoey waved her hand, starting to back away again. No more questions. If they knew it was Linc, they’d insist she stay at the inn, and then she’d be in an even more awkward spot. She couldn’t stand to be the problem any longer.

Not when she was the one who always fixed things.

She cleared her throat. “They have an extra room for me to camp out a bit. I mean, no one can live in a hotel forever, right?”

“Right.” Elisa nodded, staring hard at Zoey as if attempting to read beneath the surface. Even still, relief filled the gentle lines of her face. Maybe Elisa didn’t want to look too hard after all. This was for the best, for everyone.

Except maybe Zoey.

“Anyway, I’ll be out tomorrow after I pack up.” Zoey kept her voice bright, her expression neutral as she gestured once more with the tub of cookies. “And I really appreciate you guys letting me stay here so long.”

Noah’s lips twisted guiltily to the side, and he shot Elisa a look. “Of course. Anytime.”

Elisa offered a sheepish smile. “Good night, Zoey.”

“Good night, guys.” She hustled to her room.

Hopefully Linc was up for one more surprise.

* * *

He was a horrible person.

Linc scrubbed his hand over his face, his bristled jaw like sandpaper under his palm as he fought a yawn.

He finished tugging his T-shirt over his head as he stumbled across the living room, toward the kitchen, squinting at the early morning sun glaring off the deck through the front door window.

Only six thirty on Saturday morning, and he couldn’t sleep for tossing in guilt over Zoey.

He opened the fridge and stood staring at the contents, the chilled air wafting across his bare feet.

A jug of milk and several packages of defrosted chicken stared back, next to a bowl of fresh salsa and a carton of eggs.

His stomach growled, but he wasn’t in the mood for an omelet.

Right now, anything he consumed would just churn with his guilt.

Zoey was obviously struggling—in vain—to branch out from her tried-and-true beignets for this catering venture of hers, and he’d spent much of the night debating on his decision to keep her off his boat.

After all, it’d be easy money for her, and Anthony had been calling in a lot lately.

She’d be a help playing guide, and the tourists seemed to like her.

But Linc remembered the way he couldn’t keep his focus on the water, his eyes off her smile and her tanned shoulders and well—obviously, he couldn’t afford the distraction she posed.

Maybe that was really why he felt like a horrible person—for having all these not-so-friend-like thoughts about his best friend.

He shut the fridge door with a thump. Maybe there was another way he could help Zoey out. Not that he had the funds to spare, until his own side hustle started booming. Besides, Zoey would never let him pay her bills.

Knock, knock, knock.

He frowned as he started for the front door, temper rising. Who in the world would be on his property this time of morning? Couldn’t they read the no trespassing signs? He growled, mood tanking even further, and wrenched the knob. “This better be?—”

“An emergency?” Zoey smiled hopefully at him through the screened door, wearing jeans and a Care Bear graphic tee. A suitcase stood beside her on the wooden porch, a pillow resting on top.

Oh. Something jumped in his gut, something he didn’t want to examine too closely. And his mood lifted.

He opened the door, hinges creaking, and fought to keep his voice level, his face straight. “Guess you got banned to the stables after all. No more room in the inn?”

“Something like that.” She attempted to wrestle her purple suitcase, nearly as big as her, inside the door.

“For crying out loud. Let me, before you hurt yourself.” Linc nudged her out of the way and easily hefted the giant bag to the living room.

The screen door shut behind Zoey with a smack. “Guess this makes me Goldilocks, now.”

“Searching for the right bed?” Aye . That sounded way different when he said it out loud. He quickly moved to the kitchen. Coffee. They both needed coffee. He started punching buttons on the machine he’d used a hundred times before and suddenly couldn’t remember how to operate.

“For crying out loud.” Zoey mocked him, elbowing him out of the way and taking over. “Let me, before you hurt yourself.”

“Cute.” Still, he sank onto one of the kitchen bar stools, propped his feet on the rung, and let her. “So. What happened?”

“No biggie.” She opened the red container of Folgers. “The inn got booked up.”

What? “Noah kicked you out?” Linc scowled, started to stand. Noah was a good guy, one of the few people Linc would call a real friend, but this seemed?—