He rested one shoulder against the wall. “Not since the last one you knew about.”
Ms. Bridges checked in semi-weekly, but hadn’t had any further updates on Kirsten. But this past call, she’d started throwing around court terminology. He’d hidden in the pantry on the phone, facing a row of canned vegetables and lowering his voice to a whisper. “Amelia’s not ready for permanent. There’s no reason to rush this.”
Ms. Bridges had hummed under her breath. “Amelia’s not ready, or you’re not?”
“She’snot.” He’d hissed. “Making this official in court with her mom still MIA would spook her. Poke the bear.”
The bear being, of course, the hormonal teenager who alternated between sitting between him and Zoey on the couch at night, laughing at sitcom reruns, and slamming her door hard enough to shake the house when she got upset.
“I understand. But sometimes what’s best for Amelia isn’t what’s easiest.”
Linc sighed. “Am I legally at risk of losing her if I don’t take this step soon?”
“Possibly.” Ms. Bridges’ voice pitched with concern. “It just depends on when—or if—Ms. West returns, and what she is willing to do when she does.”
So, once again, everything was up to Kirsten. Linc pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to mess this up—we’re finally on the same page, the three of us.”
“Getting married was a smart move,” Ms. Bridges said. “It’ll look good to the judge if this ends up in a trial of some kind.”
His heart lurched. “You think that will happen?”
“Unlikely. Though, unfortunately, I’ve been in this industry long enough to know to expect anything. Especially the worst.”
Hadn’t they all had enough of that? So now he had a decision to make about a court hearing. Should he move forward now and risk losing the progress they’d made with Amelia? Or risk losing her in a different way if Kirsten showed back up again?
“Can I try next?” Zoey’s voice jerked him back to the gym, to the hope in her eyes as she eyed the wall behind him.
He scoffed. “Are you crazy? You can’t even do a regular pushup.”
“Spot me.”
Before he could agree—or, more likely, protest—she kicked up into a handstand. Or rather, a handstand attempt. Her bottom end slammed into the wall with more force than she intended, and her legs crumpled instead of shooting up. One sneaker clocked Linc in the jaw, and he stumbled back, reaching at the last minute to steady her.
But she took them both down.
They landed with a heap on the mats, his fall slightly more controlled than hers. She flipped onto her side, face flushed red and laughing. “Did that count?”
He lay on his back next to her, rubbing his jaw. It clicked. “Definitely did not.”
She inched closer to him, propping up on her elbow, still giggling. Her ponytail flopped over her shoulder, and her eyes lit with laughter as she looked down at him. “I should at least get points for bravery.”
Linc started to respond with sarcasm, but something about the way she hovered over him, that light in her gaze, the genuine joy—the real stuff, not that manufactured, forced rainbow crap—stopped him.
Still lying flat, he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear instead. “I think you’re one of the bravest people I know.”Aye. So much for distance.
Zoey’s eyes widened, and her bubbling smile dialed to a simmer. Her gaze studied his, more seriously this time, and he forced himself not to look away, not to hide. She deserved the compliment, plain and simple.
Deserved a lot more, actually.
“Thank you.” The words were a whisper on her lips, and he wanted to catch them with his own. He’d kissed her at the courthouse, yeah, but that hadn’t counted. He’d made sure. Because he’d promised nothing would change. Nothing could change.
Yet right now, he suddenly wantedeverythingto change.
They held eye contact. His breath hitched. Her eyes darted to his mouth. Then?—
“Look!” Amelia shouted from across the floor. “I’m doing it.”
They craned their heads in time to see her perform a perfectly executed pushup.
