Zoey reeled back to look at him directly, blue eyes wide. “How?”
“Lying to yourself. About your claim.” He waved his hand. “Living like money is about to magically appear in the mailbox any day now when you know that it’s tied up. You know you’re stuck.”
“Well.” Zoey blinked. “Aren’t you on a truth roll.”
“I’m just trying to be honest.” Someone had to be.
She frowned. “Truth can begentlydelivered, you know.”
“That takes too long.” He looked back out the window, where Amelia had finally crossed the street. Great. Now where was she going to go? “Delaying the inevitable doesn’t do anyone any favors. It’s better to get the truth out, thendealwith it instead of living in denial.”
He’d had to learn that the hard way in a courtroom when he was eight, no reason everyone else couldn’t catch up. He frowned. “Why are you women always so?—”
Oops. Too far. Zoey’s brow had disappeared into her bangs.
He swallowed the end of that sentence. “You know what I mean.”
“Here’s an idea. I’m going after your daughter, and you’re going to look up the price of a muzzle on Amazon.” Zoey abruptly stood. “Better get an extra large.”
Okay, he probably deserved that. “Zoey?—”
Elisa appeared with a tray laden with coffee, bacon, and hash browns. “Everything okay?”
“I’ll be right back.” Zoey patted Linc’s arm. He grimaced—still sticky. He didnotdeserve that. “Enjoy your bacon.”
Oh. Not sure how she’d turned a simple statement into a threat, but she’d managed. Zoey brushed out the door as Elisa put Linc’s plate in front of him.
He stared at it. Not as hungry now.
The aroma of the still-sizzling meat met his nose, and he hesitated. Getting a bit of protein before facing either woman again probably wouldn’t hurt. He never did operate well on an empty stomach.
He bent over his plate, shoved a piece into his mouth. Guilt nudged, but he couldn’t quite determine why. He hadn’t done anything wrong—had he? Didn’t Amelia deserve honesty? Besides, he’d never been the compassionate type. Better for her to realize the truth right away, if she hadn’t. Life hurt.
People left.
A throat cleared, and Linc looked up. Elisa still stood next to the booth, the empty tray tucked under her arm. She raised her eyebrows. “May I offer some advice?”
Linc picked up his second piece of bacon, stomach recoiling. He forcefully took a bite. “I assume you will anyway.” He waited for the berating, the confirmation that he sucked, theI used to be a teenage girl, so I know how they operatestuff.
But Elisa only gave him a gentle smile. “Maybe give yourself a chance.”
Oh.
He stared at the window as Zoey hurried to catch up to Amelia on the sidewalk. Hadn’t expected…well, compassion. Definitely hadn’t anticipated the way the sentiment washed over him, wiped away a bit of the guilt lingering.
Then his eye caught the napkin Amelia had been drawing on. A typical round, cartoon face, but with a frown instead of a smile. Two wobbly teardrops drifted from its comically large eyes.
He swallowed. Give himself a chance? Tempting. But…he looked out the window as Amelia stalked down the street. Wouldn’t matter if he did.
Because it certainly didn’t seem like his daughter would anytime soon.
* * *
Out of breath, Zoey caught up to Amelia a few blocks down from the café. The morning sun was in high gear now, a glaring contrast to the mood back at the diner—and the one reflected on Amelia’s face.
She fell into step beside the sullen teen, dodging orange cones set around a newly repaired pothole. “Hey, all the good shopping is the other way.”
Amelia didn’t even look at her, just kept stiffly hustling down Village Lane toward the park and the gazebo. Across the street, a kid did a skateboard trick while a woman walking her Schnauzer chatted on her phone. Farmer Branson rolled by in his pickup truck, the bed full of crates of red and yellow vegetables.
