by Jill Shalvis
Caitlin was slicing cheese now with a very big knife. “Yes,” she said stiffly. “I was the real kid who did her best to keep everyone happy. Michael too. We shared our parents, willingly, but it’s not like it was easy, Maze. I worked my ass off to always be okay and take care of everyone.”
And when Michael passed away, Cat had changed forever, something Maze was just starting to see. More guilt settled in her chest. “I never asked that of you.”
“Of course not, because you’re allergic to asking for help.”
Maze turned to walk away, but Heather was in the doorway. “Morning!” she said with way too much morning cheer, telling Maze she was here as the peacemaker, as usual.
“Hope you’re hungry,” Caitlin said.
Heather nodded. “Starving. Walker took Sammie outside to see the birds. She was a little cranky. He’s got a way with her.”
That was because Walker had a way with all women.
“So where’s the boyfriend?” Heather asked Maze.
She was buttering the toast and took an embarrassingly long moment to realize Heather was talking to her. “Um . . . maybe he went back to bed?” She sniffed. “Wait, is something burning?”
“Oh my God.” Caitlin yanked open the oven. Smoke curled up to the ceiling. “It’s the biscuits. Dammit!” She pulled out the charred mounds and stared at them. “You know what? It’s fine. Totally fine. I can make more. It’s all fine.”
Dillon came into the kitchen. “What burned?”
“Nothing! I’m fine!”
Dillon lifted his hands. “Okay then.” He started to head back to the living room.
Maze shook her head at him. “Dude, when a woman says she’s fine, it’s code for she’s not fine.”
“Caitlin and I don’t speak in code, we speak our minds like adults,” he said, and walked out of the kitchen.
Still holding the cookie sheet, smoke curling up from each individual biscuit, Caitlin pushed out the back door and dumped the biscuits onto the ground. Roly and Poly ran through the kitchen and outside, snorting and squealing. They took one sniff of the charred mess and vanished back into the house.
Maze peeked out. “You okay?”
“Everything is totally one hundred percent fine!” she yelled.
A few birds flocked to the biscuits, pecked at them, then flew off.
“Great, even animals won’t eat them.” Cat sagged. “It’s a metaphor for my life.”
Maze stepped out and shut the door behind her. She used a towel she’d grabbed to take the hot cookie sheet from Caitlin, which she set aside before wrapping her arms around the sister of her heart. “It was just a few biscuits, Cat.”
“It’s more than the biscuits!” she wailed.
Maze sighed. “I know.”
Cat hugged her back tight and held on. “Are you getting hives from the prolonged hug?”
“Yes.”
Caitlin let out a watery laugh and tightened her grip like a true sister. “You’re avoiding me.”
“Are you kidding me? You’ve kidnapped me and are holding me—literally—against my will for a week. How in the world can I avoid you? Please tell me, so I can do it.”
“You know what I mean.” Cat pulled back and wiped her tears. “You’re avoiding being alone with me. You don’t want to be here.”
“It’s not that.” Maze tried to collect her thoughts. “It’s not you, and I’m sorry if I let you think that.”
“You won’t talk to me, which means it is about me. I want this all out in the open, it’s past time. Just talk to me, dammit.”
Now Maze sighed. “Fine. I’m worried you’re rushing this whole marriage thing.”
Caitlin’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“The wedding. You’ve only been with Dillon for what, a year? I’ve got things that have been growing in my fridge for longer than that. What’s the rush? I mean, they say you don’t really know someone until you’ve been with them for well over a year, and even then you have to see them in a variety of emotional situations to make sure you can deal with their reactions.”
Cat’s eyes had narrowed. “What kind of emotional situations?”
“Like . . . say if a toddler is coming at your pristine, fancy white couch with sticky fingers.”
Caitlin sighed. “He loves that couch. Look, I know what this is really about. It’s because I’m getting married before you.”
Oh, the irony of that statement. “No, it’s not. And wow. Is that what you think? That I’d be jealous because you’re getting married?”
Cat tossed up her hands. “I don’t know what to think, you don’t talk to me. Do you think you’re the only one who’s struggling to find her place? Who feels like she doesn’t belong? Do you know I feel guilty because my childhood was damn good and I know it?”
“You lost your brother and childhood home in one fell swoop, Cat. You’re allowed to be as fucked up as the rest of us.”
Caitlin sighed, and a lot of the air seemed to go out of her sails. “I just want you to consider my family yours. I wanted to give that to you.”
Suddenly Maze’s throat was burning like the biscuits. “I’ve always admired how you keep people in your life,” she managed. “You keep people, even when they don’t always deserve to be kept.”
Caitlin was clearly astonished. “If you’re about to tell me that you don’t think you deserve to be kept, I’m going to hurt you, Maze. I mean it. Oh my God. You’re so stupid.” She yanked her back in for another hug and this one hurt.
“Can’t. Breathe.” Maze tried to tap out, but Cat just tightened her grip.
“So, so, so, so stupid,” Cat repeated, sounding tearful. “I love you, you stupid, stupid girl, and I know damn well you love me back.”
Maze shrugged. “Maybe. When you’re not yelling at me or trying to strangle me.”
Caitlin pushed her away with a teary laugh. “Okay, fine. But seeing as you do love and adore me, it turns out there’s something you can do to make me feel better.”
“Anything except hug you again.”
“Haha. All you’ve got to do is answer one question.”
“Oh boy,” Maze said warily.
“No, don’t be scared.”
Maze laughed a little. “Right. You do know you’re scary as hell, yeah?”
“One question, Maze, and you can’t lie.”
Oh, but she could. And had . . .
Caitlin looked her right in the eye. “Is there something going on between you and Walker? And before you answer, I want you to know it’s a nonjudgmental question. I’ve always thought the two of you would bring out the best in each other. He’d help you realize how amazing you are, and you’d—”
“What? Scare him off women entirely?” she asked dryly, pretending her heart wasn’t pounding.
“No,” Caitlin said, not joking. “You’d soften him.”
Maze snorted, because she could attest to the fact that there wasn’t any softness to Walker, not a single inch of his leanly muscled bod. The man was a rock.
Inside and out.
“You know what I mean,” Caitlin said earnestly. “He’s always had a soft spot for you. Different from what he feels for me or Heather. He takes care of the two of us. But with you, he . . .” She shook her head, smiled. “It’s like he admires your strength and knows he can stand at your side. He doesn’t have to watch your back all the time, he can just . . . enjoy you. If that makes sense.”
If that had been true, he’d never have let her go. But he had. “You’re wrong.”
“Maybe,” Caitlin replied in a tone that said she didn’t believe that for a hot second.
“Pick another question,” Maze said flatly.
Caitlin nodded so easily that Maze felt certain she’d been tricked.
“I was thinking,” Caitlin said, “maybe while you’re here, you could stay . . . open. Like really open. And don’t even bother looking at me like I’ve just suggested a gyno exam in the middle of Main Street. You know what I
mean by open.”
Yes, but she wished she didn’t. “That’s not a question.”
“Will you stay open? Just for the week?” Caitlin asked. “And thank you. It’s a lovely present. I won’t even regift it.”
“How about this?” Maze asked. “I will if you will.”
Some of Cat’s smugness left. “Maze—”
“I will if you will,” she repeated softly, and Cat slowly nodded.
Chapter 9
Maze’s maid of honor to-do list:
—Call the caterer to add alcohol for the bride’s dressing room ahead of the ceremony.
That night, Maze didn’t have a nightmare, but she did have one hell of a weird dream. Elvis was chasing her around the lake, and she was in a wedding dress. She sat straight up in bed with a horrified laugh. It was certainly an improvement over her last nightmare, but no thank you.
It was still dark. A glance at the clock told her it was four thirty in the morning. What the heck? She peeked over the side of the bed, but Jace was out like a light. So she stepped over him, stole the sweats he’d left on the floor, and left. In the hallway, she paused in front of Walker’s room. His door was ajar, so she took a peek.
He lay on his back in the center of the bed, breathing steadily and evenly. She knocked lightly on the doorjamb, but he didn’t move. Biting her lower lip, she squeezed in and shut the door behind her. “Hey,” she whispered.
Nothing. The sheet was pooled dangerously low on his hips, revealing a mouthwatering chest and abs that she suddenly wanted to lick.
“Walk.” This time she added a poke to his chest.
“Shh. He’s sleeping,” he murmured.
“It’s almost morning.”
He cracked an eye and looked at her before smiling. “You’re right. We should hurry. Come here.” And he lifted the sheet in open invitation.
He wasn’t wearing anything except testosterone and pheromones, and her heart stopped. “Oh my God.”
“It bodes well for me that you’re already saying ‘oh my God.’ But I’m going to need you to lose your boyfriend’s sweats first.”
“You and I are not going to—” She drew in a deep breath. How did he always derail her? “I’m only here to tell you that I’m going to sign the papers.”
He paused a beat. “Okay.”
“I just haven’t yet because I want to read through them first.”
“Don’t worry. I’m still leaving my vinyl collection to you.”
“You think this is funny?” she asked in disbelief.
“Your reaction to it is.”
“You know what? I’m going now. People are going to hear us.”
“They’re not awake. They’re lucky enough to be sleeping.”
She turned to go, but he caught her, wrapping his fingers around her wrist. His eyes were open but heavy lidded, his jaw beyond a five o’clock shadow, mouth almost curved. “You’re up before dawn. What am I missing?”
“Nothing.”
He sat up with a frown. “Did you have another nightmare?”
“Yes. Elvis was chasing me around the lake.” She left off the part where she’d been in a wedding dress because that was just too embarrassing.
“Want me to make you forget about the dream?”
“No!” her mouth said, but her other body parts quivered and cried, Yes! “I’m going now because we don’t want anyone to see me and think I’m making the walk of shame back to my room.”
“We don’t?”
“No, because right now no one knows about Vegas. And if we keep it quiet, no one will ever have to know.”
He studied her for a long beat. “And that would bother you, if anyone knew.”
“Yes!”
He let go of her and slid out of bed. Naked. He walked to a duffel bag on a chair, where he took his time pulling on a pair of jeans over a world-class ass.
No underwear.
The denim looked soft and well worn. He grabbed a shirt next, covering up that scrumptious body. When he caught her staring, his lips twitched.
“What?” she asked. “I like to look.”
“Good to know. The ball’s in your court, tough girl. On both counts.” Then he headed toward the door.
“Wait. What does that mean, ‘on both counts’?”
He gave her a long look, smiled . . . and walked out of the room.
Tossing up her hands, she went back to her room. Jace was gone. She climbed into bed and was just closing her eyes when Jace came back, showered and fully dressed. “Sleep well?” he asked.
The question and his tone were mild, but she studied him closely. “Yes,” she said. “Like a log.”
“A log who dreams about wedding dresses, Elvis, Vegas, and, near as I can piece together, the best sex you ever had? Tell me you weren’t having sex with Elvis.”
With a groan, she lay back and pulled her pillow over her face.
Jace laughed, and when he didn’t say anything else, she pushed the pillow off her face to look at him. His face was serious now. “What?”
He sat at her hip. “Why are we really pretending to be together?”
“I already told you. Everyone else was bringing a plus-one and I didn’t want to be a loser.”
“Except Heather’s plus-one is Sammie, and Walker didn’t bring anyone.”
“Other than his bad attitude,” she muttered.
“Yeah, see, you keep saying that, but the only one with a bad attitude that I’ve seen is you.” That he said this in a calm, quiet, even gentle tone saved his life. “Talk to me, Maze.”
Stay open. That had been Caitlin’s request, and she’d asked so little of Maze and yet given so much. “He . . . hurt me,” she said.
Jace’s eyes went dark and dangerous. “He put his hands on you?”
“No. No,” she repeated when he remained tense. “He would never. Look, it was all a very long time ago and it’s a long story.”
“I’m listening.”
She blew out a sigh. “You know I grew up in foster homes.”
“Because your dad left before you were born and your mom was fond of assholes.”
She blinked in surprise.
“Heather and I were talking about how all of you met when you were fostered by Caitlin’s parents, after each suffering some pretty shitty childhoods.”
“What else did she tell you?”
“Nothing. Just that you’re all bonded for life, but she was sparse on the details of why.”
She let out a rough breath, because she did her best to never think about that year she’d spent in the Walsh home, but she’d let herself fall into those memories while here because some of them were the best of her entire life. But not the story she was going to tell Jace now. “Caitlin’s parents were really great,” she started. “Heather, Caitlin, Michael—Cat’s younger brother—and Walker and I got really close that year. Their home wasn’t too far from here, actually. It was in town. The problem was . . .” She closed her eyes. “Me,” she admitted. “I was fifteen and wild and impulsive. I rebelled against the rules, because . . . well, I don’t know why really, probably because I had an issue with authority and also was an angry punk ass. And that’s what started the whole thing.”
“What thing?”
“A carnival came to Wildstone,” she said. “Caitlin’s parents took us during the day, but we had to leave at dark. I wanted to go back later that night and see all the lights, but that wasn’t allowed. Shelly and Jim gave us a lot of freedom, but they still had rules and I thought a lot of them were dumb.” She drew a deep, shuddering breath. “So Mayhem Maze came up with the brilliant idea of sneaking out that night. Just me and Caitlin and Walker. We’d done it a few times before, so I thought no big deal. We didn’t tell Heather or Michael—they were too young to go. The deal was we’d meet in the basement and climb out one of the windows, walk the two miles to the carnival, and have a great time.”
“I take it that didn’t happen,” Jace said.
She shook her head.
“Caitlin didn’t want to go. She didn’t like to break the rules. So it was a cluster from the start, and it only got worse when Heather showed up in the basement. She loved to eavesdrop and then tattle, but on that night her tactic had been to blackmail us.” She managed a rough laugh. “She promised she’d keep our secret if we took her along.”
He smiled. “So she was smart, even back then.”
“Oh yeah,” Maze said with a laugh. “And adorable. Irresistible, really. Still is, though she will no longer keep anyone’s secret.”
Jace smiled and Maze cocked her head.
“Wait. What was that?”
“What?”
“That look in your eye,” she said. “That’s the look you get when you like someone. The last time I saw it on you was right before you started dating that cute blond beverage distributor. Daisy, right?”
“There’s no look,” he said.
“There’s totally a look, Jace.”
A muscle in his jaw clenched, and then he nodded. “Okay, maybe there’s a look. But it’s not going anywhere. Clearly.”
Because he was still her “boyfriend.” More guilt slashed through her. “Jace—”
“This isn’t about me. Heather promised not to tell. So what happened?”
Maze sighed. “I turned on a little portable heater to warm the basement while we were all arguing. Millie, the Walsh’s dog, always followed us everywhere. She’d come down the stairs after Heather. Her tail knocked over the heater and the rug caught on fire. The whole house was engulfed in flames in like five minutes. It was an inferno.”
“Jesus. Were you hurt?”
She gave a bitter laugh. “No. Not even a little. Caitlin, Heather, Walker, Millie, and I all got out through the high, narrow basement window.” Suddenly there was a huge lump in her throat—pure grief and survivor’s guilt. She couldn’t swallow past it. “Caitlin and Michael’s parents were gone for the evening and already out of the house. We were standing on the grass staring in horror at the fire when I realized Walker was running back inside. To get Michael.” She shook her head. “The firefighters arrived and had to drag him out—he wouldn’t go without Michael. But he’d hit his head and had a concussion, plus smoke inhalation and some second- and third-degree burns.”