But for how long?
He held her, barely daring to breathe, as if she might dissipate in his arms. As if this whole thing they’d made might go up in smoke. And then what would he do?
But at this point, even if she really did stay long-term, would their carrying on as they were now—friends, roommates, teammates—ever going to be enough?
Was he still destined to be alone, even in a house full of family?
Eventually, Linc let go of her, and Zoey smiled at him, a truce in her eyes. They went to their separate rooms, every fiber of Linc’s heart and body fully aware that she was only a hallway away. And somehow, at the same time, a light year away.
In the midst of all the questions circling his mind, one thing was certain—he wouldn’t be getting a wink of sleep tonight.
eighteen
“Almost 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, itwasa 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. Sheneededthe 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 kidslove,” 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 boatduringa 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 likeslightlyless 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.”
