But he would be, for her. For everyone.
Linc shrugged, opting for the latter—the safest topic. “Sure. I mean, they’re married—that’s the end goal of a wedding, right?”
Zoey’s smile slipped. “Right.”
He waited a beat of the music, two. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know.” Her stiff shoulders suggested otherwise, and he wanted to fix it. Fix them. Maybe he couldn’t admit his feelings, but he could keep their normal dynamic going. He had to have that like he had to have oxygen. So much that just a little bit of truth wouldn’t hurt.
He took a breath. “I’m not a romantic guy, Zoey.”
Her gaze flickered. “I know that too.”
“I think tonight was great. The wedding…Noah and Elisa…” He swallowed. “You.”
“You think I’m great?” Her lips curled.
He coughed. “Pretty.”
“Pretty great?”
“No.”Aye. “I meant, I think youlookpretty.”
She knew, she was teasing him. It was evident in her eyes. She tilted her head back, grinning.
He groaned, spun her again. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“You’re cute when you’re awkward.”
“Only then?” Good grief. How was he even managing to dance if he had both feet in his mouth? Though he couldn’t complain, really. Their banter was back, and he’d gladly suffer a little embarrassment if it meant they kept their footing.
“Not just then.” She ran her hand down the arm of his jacket, and the entire left side of his body lit on fire. “But you did clean up extra nice tonight.”
The compliment, even if half-coerced, sank in deep. Too deep for his own good. “Better than Farmer B?” He tried to keep his tone light, despite every instinct wanting to pull her off the floor. Scoop her up. Go home and be fully married.
Aye, he was in trouble.
“Way better.” She grinned.
“So we’ve established we both look nice. Guess you and I are still a good team, then.” Good grief, a new song had started, and he hadn’t even noticed.
“Good thing.” Her grip tightened on his arms, and he decided not to spin her. Wanted to keep her close. “Because you’re stuck with me now, remember?”
Man, he hoped so.
With all his heart, he hoped so.
nineteen
What a night.
Zoey stood by the dock near Linc’s pond in her bridesmaid dress, the cool night air grazing her bare arms. Fall had officially arrived, as evidenced by the burgundy and coral leaves crunching under her low-heeled shoes. Despite the chill, she went ahead and toed them off, let the damp wood ground her. She drew a deep breath.
Dancing with Linc had unnerved every cell in her body. Grumpy Linc, she could handle. Sullen Linc, busy Linc, selfish Linc—no problem. She knew how to cheer him, make him grudgingly smile, call him out on his attitude or harsh words.
Sweet Linc, romantic Linc, slow-dancing Linc—that Linc she had no idea what to do with.
She tossed a rock into the pond, watching the ripples dance across the dark surface, breaking the reflection of the half-orb moon overhead. Amelia was in bed, and Linc had started rummaging through the pantry for a snack, so she’d taken the opportunity to slip outside, gather her thoughts. Her emotions.
