But they kept slipping through her grasp.
Why was he making this effort toward her lately? Did he suddenly feel what she felt, want what she wanted? Or did he just feel guilty for roping her into his mess and was trying to be nice? There’d been that hug in the kitchen after the argument over Amelia…the way he looked at her while dancing at the wedding…she’d wanted to rise up and kiss him, test the waters, hope he felt the same way she was feeling.
If she guessed wrong…it could ruin everything.
But was missing out on something potentially amazing any better? What was worth the risk?
The tired dock creaked behind her, and she stiffened. Linc. She closed her eyes.
“You okay?”
She slowly turned to face him, her sunshine generator feeling decidedly cracked. She didn’t want to shine. She wanted answers. “Why do you keep doing things you don’t typically do?”
He tilted his head, shoved his hands in his pockets. “Like what?”
“Dancing, for one.”
He looked down at the wood beneath their feet. At the inky water visible through the cracks. “I don’t know. I guess I feel like I owe you.”
Right—she should have guessed. Obligation, duty. She was still the burden, someone else for him to take care of. A second dependent. “You don’t owe me.”
“Good to know.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I went into this whole thing willingly, in case you don’t remember.”
“I remember.” He wasn’t getting annoyed back, which only annoyed her worse. “I was there.”
“So, I don’t need any favors. Don’t do things you don’t want to do.” She crossed her arms over her chest, shivered.
He pulled off his jacket, draped it around her shoulders. “Who said I didn’t want to?”
Oh. She stared up at him, her fire extinguishing. He wasn’t joking.
“I wanted to pay for your dress too. So I did.”
She drew a breath. “That wasyou?”
“Well, yeah. What are husbands for?”
Husband. Not friend. Her stomach turned to mush.
His eyes searched hers. “Why didn’t you ask me?”
She shrugged. “You’ve done enough already.”
“Look.” He sighed. “You got the short end of this stick, Zoey. We both know it—paying for a dress is hardly equal to what you’re doing for us. For meandAmelia.” He stepped away from her, raked one hand through his hair. “You got a grumpy, clueless father and a moody teenager in this deal. If I can do something to help you be happy, then I’ll do it. Even dance.”
“I don’t see it that way.” She took a step toward him.
“Then you’re blind.”
She licked her lips. “I just see my best friend and his brilliant daughter, both of who are going through a really hard time.”
He nodded. “That’s why I need you.”
Need.
Not want.
