Them.
She turned her head, gasping for breath. Apparently oxygen still mattered. But he couldn’t stop, couldn’t let her go. He pressed a kiss against her cheek, her jaw, the dip in her neck. She smelled like lingering perfume and cake. Coconut deodorant. His jacket had long since slipped to the dock, but he didn’t care, stepped on it, even, as he fought to keep his balance, keep Zoey lifted within his reach.
Then her lips were back on his, and his head buzzed. He stumbled forward a step, swept away with the need rising in his chest. Not because she was homeless and he was obligated. Not because he couldn’t parent on his own. Not because of money or convenience or tax breaks.
Just because it was her.
His best friend.
He’d officially fallen for his wife.
Linc shifted Zoey, trying to get a better grip without breaking their kiss. She moved at the same time, knocking him off balance. He sidestepped, but the jacket bunched beneath his shoe.
And then they were both falling.
* * *
Linc sat in the living room, wrapped in a fleece blanket, bare feet propped on the ottoman as he waited his turn for the shower. He ran his hands over his cheeks, bristle scrubbing his fingers.
Guess that was one way to end a kiss.
Zoey had come up from the murky water shrieking, laughing, shocked, her dark hair plastered to her head. Linc hauled her back onto the pier, and they’d laughed together, squishing up toward the house, her soggy dress probably weighing a million pounds. He’d stripped off his wet shirt and tossed it in the laundry room, thrown on a dry tee and sweatpants while she dripped her way upstairs to the bathroom.
The impromptu cold dousing was exactly what he needed, to the point he’d wondered if an angel had tripped him instead of his own suit jacket.
What would have happened if Linc hadn’t knocked them both in? Would it have gone farther? They were married, but…He groaned. He hadn’t been thinking clearly—obviously. Maybe they’d rushed down the proverbial aisle, but rushingthiswould be the end of them.
If it wasn’t already.
His stomach clenched. What was Zoey thinking? Did she assume he’d taken advantage of the conversation, of the vulnerability between them? Did she want to keep moving forward as a real couple—a real marriage? Or was that kiss a one-time fluke?
What did they do from here?
“You stink.”
He looked up at Amelia’s voice, her wrinkled nose as she stood by the fireplace in a sweatshirt and pajama pants. Took him a moment to realize she meant literally. “Fell in the pond.”
“I wondered what all the yelling was.” She perched on the end of the recliner, rocking forward. “How’d that happen? And why are the stairs all wet?”
He opened his mouth, closed it. Narrowed his eyes. Uh…
“Never mind.” Amelia rolled her eyes. “I can figure it out.”
Linc held up one hand. “We tripped, fell off the pier. It was an accident.”
She seemed to accept that, thankfully. “Hope you don’t ever run with scissors.”
Ha. “Good advice. I take it you’ve heard that one before?”
“Well, yeah.” She pulled a strand of hair over her shoulder, started plucking at a split end. “Mom wasn’tthatbad of a mom, you know.”
“I’m sure she wasn’t.” He shifted positions on the couch, angling to face her.
Amelia paused. “Why do you say that? I thought you were mad at her.”
He drew a breath. Couldn’t be honest with one woman in the house tonight and not the other—though the vulnerability felt strange on his lips. “I say that because, well. You’ve turned out kind of great.” He coughed. “I know she must have had some role in that, at least.”
Amelia plucked faster. To her creditandLinc’s surprise, she didn’t make a move to leave. “Mom did teach me how to make really good grilled cheese sandwiches.”
