“We’ll figure that out then.” Linc reached for the oars, tucked them back into the water. His short sleeves strained against his biceps. “We can only decide what to do with what’s happening now. And right now, this solution makes the most sense.”
Did it? And the fact she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his muscular arms didn’t concern him in the least?
He continued. “We have to put out the fire that’s currently burning.”
Oy. Zoey winced. “Really?”
“Sorry. Poor analogy.”
She rolled in her lip. “What about Amelia? What will we tell her?”
“That we wanted to get married.”
The word still sounded foreign coming from him. Zoey tilted her head. “But we’ve been denying we’ve even been in a relationship.”
“No, we’ve been denying anything inappropriate was going on,” Linc corrected. “We tell her that we realized what was between us and want to make it official, ASAP.”
“ASAP.” Zoey repeated the word, like a parrot. A dazed, bay-soaked parrot.
“Why not? I think waiting would do more harm than good.”
In this particular instance, maybe he was right. Marriage wasn’t something to rush into, but…people had arranged marriages all the time in different eras of history, different countries. Surely some of those worked out. At least Zoey already knew what to expect with Linc.
Grumpy before coffee.
Grumpy before bedtime.
Grumpy in crowds.
She smirked. And he was tidy—she wouldn’t be worrying about laundry on the floor or toothpaste caps left in the sink. Wasn’t that typically what wives complained about?
So why wasn’t she sure?
“I know it’s a little left field.” A muscle ticked in Linc’s jaw. “But Zoey…I’m drowning again.”
She gripped the sides of the boat.Oh, Linc.As much as his grumpy aggravated her at times, this vulnerability was much harder. Had she ever seen him like this?
He stared at a spot on the rusty boat floor. “I can’t screw this up. And I don’t know how to do it alone.”
Zoey inhaled, watching the way his muscles bunched and released under his shirt as he rowed. How could she say no? Linc was strong, capable. Solid.
Secure.
And he neededher.
There were surely worse things in life than marrying her best friend. She’d be doing him a favor, helping a teen in trauma…all pros. Except maybe one con.
Her heart.
He stilled the oars. “So what’s it going to be?”
“Dunkin’ donuts, Linc. Give a girl a second.” She studied his face, searching foranysign that there was something more to this proposal—if one could even call it that—than a smart business plan.
He held her gaze, rowing them quietly through the growing darkness. Tangled dark hair, brown eyes holding sober sincerity. Everything that made Linc, Linc. And maybe…was that a little bit of hope shining in there?
He really wanted her to say yes.
A tiny thrill shot through her, and she squelched it. He didn’t want her to say yes for the same reason she wanted to say yes.
