“Stick to beignets, kid. You’re good at that.” Really good, actually. “Donuts, kolaches. Fried stuff.”
“You forget I don’t have a fryer right now.” Zoey sighed. “Never mind. I just need to be patient. It’ll all work out.”
She kept saying that. Hopefully it was true. He let his arm fall from the post. “Why did this matter so much tonight?”
“I wanted to give you something after your nearly ruined tour.”
“It wasn’t, though.” He moved to stand closer to her. “Your dolphins saved the day. So what gives? You could have brought me porridge cookies tomorrow.”
“I guess I didn’t feel like going back to the inn yet.” Zoey dropped down to the grass, pulled her knees up to her chest.
Oy. Linc dipped into a squat, refusing to camp out longer than necessary. It was a good stretch this way, at least. “Why not?”
She pursed her lips. “Weird decor?”
He held her stare.
“Fine.” She looked away. “Sometimes the Blue Pirogue just reminds me of how much limbo I’m in. Itfeelslike a hotel, you know?”
“That’s because it is.”
She ignored him. “I know it’s temporary, but it’s hard not being able to work. I’m used to cooking all day, marketing, being creative.” She wrinkled her nose at the discarded tub. “That’s part of why I’m playing around with catering efforts. Well, that, and the potential paycheck.”
He shifted his weight in his squat. “And photography?”
Her shoulders stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you taking pictures last week on the boat.”
Her eyes widened. “You did?”
“Yeah. Of the sunset, or whatever.” He’d noticed because he’d been cruising the pontoon, eyes locked on the water, thoughts ruminating on the next day’s schedule, whenbam. Next thing he knew, his mind had drifted to thoughts of her. Of them. Of how nice it felt to have Zoey riding in the boat, like she truly belonged there. Like it’d be weird for hernotto be there.
The click of the shutter had thankfully snapped him out of the near-mushy moment.
Zoey cleared her throat. “Right, the sunset was top notch that night.” Her gaze lowered to the cookie tub. “Maybe I should give up on the cookie baking, work with you on the boat instead.”
Oh, man. There sure hadn’t been a camera shutter to snap him out of it today, had there, when he’d been watching her instead of paying attention to the water. The piling weather. His stomach tightened. She couldn’t fill in for Anthony. It was too risky.
But how could he turn her down when she clearly needed money?
He shook his head. “Maybe we need to find you a part-time job with steady hours until your catering can take off, or you get back into a beignet storefront. The tours aren’t consistent enough for what you need, I’m sure.”
Not a lie. But not the full truth, and that felt bad. But what was he supposed to say?Sorry I can’t keep staring at you while you’re performing that close to me? He wasn’t a creep.
Things were just…weird right now.
“You’d help me find something?” She raised a brow.
“Of course.” Especially if that meant he’d get to sleep at night, not have to traipse around the town at nine p.m. “Maybe Elisa needs help at the diner.”
Zoey shook her head. “She doesn’t. Besides, can you imagine me carrying trays of food and drinks all day?”
Good point. She was a little clumsy. “What about Second Story? Or Chug a Mug?”
“Sadie already has all the part-time help she needs at the bookstore.” Zoey wrinkled her nose. “And on second thought, I really don’t want to get plugged in somewhere just to quit days or maybe weeks later when my claims check finally arrives.” She hugged her jean-clad knees. “I’ll just ride it out. Eventually, I’ll be able to get a new storefront and everything will be like it never happened.”
It wouldn’t be exactly like that, though. He knew all about denial. Some decisions, some circumstances, some things out of your control simply left scars. He rubbed the tattoo on his ribcage, grimaced.
