by Jill Shalvis
Another text came in from Caitlin, this one even more confusing than the last. It was a pic of a dandelion, surrounded by a bouquet of what looked like a bunch of weeds.
“She’s done it,” Maze said. “She’s finally cracked.”
“She’s never cracked. She’s our rock.”
“I’m telling you, our rock cracked.” She pulled up to the florist shop and found Caitlin sitting on the curb holding the dandelion-and-weed bouquet, which was raining dirt clumps all over her pretty dress.
Maze parked and rushed over to Cat, who was crying and talking at the same time in a decibel that couldn’t be understood by human ears. So Maze sat on the curb next to her and did the only thing she could. She wrapped her arms around her and hugged her hard. “Who do we need to bury?” Please say Dillon . . .
As she’d hoped, Cat stopped sobbing to laugh. Then she sniffed and lifted her head. By this time Heather was sitting on her other side.
“There’s no dead body,” Cat said. “But if there were, there’d be two bodies.”
“Dillon and his mom?” Maze guessed.
Caitlin sighed and swiped at her tears, streaking dirt over her cheek. Dirt. On Caitlin’s face. Maze had never seen such an incident before, ever. Cat was always perfect.
“These coming with us?” Maze asked about the very odd, very dead bouquet.
Cat nodded. Maze hoisted her up and directed her to the car. Heather slipped into the back, with Caitlin shotgun. Maze got behind the wheel and looked at her. “Before we go, can I go into the florist shop and beat the shit out of anyone for you?”
Caitlin bit her lip like she was tempted, but she shook her head.
Maze nodded and drove off—in the opposite direction of the lake house.
“Where are we going?” Cat asked.
“First you have to answer a question,” Maze said. “You going to go through with this wedding?”
Cat hesitated and then nodded.
Maze reached for her hand. “I’m going to ask you one more time,” she said softly. “Are you sure?”
“I’m not a quitter.”
Maze looked into Caitlin’s eyes, saw the determination, and swore internally, but nodded. “Okay then.”
“Where are we going?”
“I know you said you didn’t want a bachelorette party, but I don’t think it was you who decided that.”
Caitlin sighed. “Dillon and his mom think it’s a trashy tradition.”
“They think we’re all trash anyway,” Maze said. “So do you really want to go back to the lake house, or do you want to go into Wildstone and blow off some steam?”
“Steam, please, with a side of fast food and bad decisions.”
Heather whooped and got on the phone. Maze knew that she was calling Boomer, the owner of the Whiskey River Bar and Grill, to let him know they were coming in hot.
“You know what else they think is trashy?” Cat asked. “Tossing the bouquet.” She rolled down her window and tossed her weed bouquet out into the wind.
And not five seconds later came the whoop whoop of a siren.
“Oh my God,” Heather gasped, craning around in horror. “We’re going to get arrested!”
“We’re not getting arrested,” Maze said, eyeballing the cop tailing her with lights going in the rearview mirror. Damn. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Maybe we can make something up and get arrested, and I’ll miss my own wedding,” Caitlin said with actual hopefulness in her voice.
Maze looked at her. “Say that one more time and I’ll make it happen, I promise you.”
“I’m just kidding!”
The cop gave another blast of his siren. Maze gritted her teeth and pulled over.
The cop walked up to the car and knocked on her window, giving her a wiggle of his finger, indicating he expected her to roll the window down.
“Badge first,” she said through the glass.
“Maze,” Cat whispered. “Just roll down the window!”
“Hell, no. I’ve seen the scary movies. You don’t just roll your window down unless you want to be murdered by a serial killer.”
“Oh my God,” Heather moaned in the back, covering her eyes. “I can’t go to jail, who’ll take care of Sammie? And plus there’s scratchy toilet paper in jail, and I’m too short for the orange coveralls they make you wear!”
The cop knocked again, less patiently. “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to step out of the car. Now.”
Maze rolled down the window and looked up at him. He was around her age, but the tense lines of his face said he had zero sense of humor. Fine. At the moment, she had zero sense of humor as well. “What’s the problem?”
The cop leaned down to eye the occupants of the car. Cat smiled at him. Heather squeaked and ducked down.
“She doesn’t have anything to hide,” Maze said. “She just doesn’t like cops who pull us over for no reason at all.”
“You were littering.”
“It was just some dandelions and weeds that we pulled from the sidewalk. Biodegradable, nothing to worry about.”
“First of all,” he said, “you can’t just throw things out the window, biodegradable or not. And second, did you pick those wildflowers from someone’s yard? Because that’s trespassing and stealing on top of littering.”
“No one stole anything,” Maze said. “They were growing on the sidewalk, which means we prettied up city property. You should pay us.”
He ignored the snark. “License and registration, please.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me—”
Caitlin put her hand on Maze’s arm. “I’ve got this,” she whispered, and pushed Maze back to lean over and look up at the cop. “Hi,” she said with a smile. “Do you know what’s happening here, Officer”—she eyed his name patch—“Ramirez?”
The cop pushed his cap up with his pen. “No, but I’m guessing you’re about to tell me.”
Caitlin gave him another smile, the one that, near as Maze could tell, was irresistible. There’d been many times she herself had fallen for it and given Caitlin whatever she wanted. Men typically fell even harder.
“See, I just left a florist shop,” Caitlin said. “The one on Main. You know it?”
The cop nodded. “Bought a coworker a bouquet there just last week when her mom died. The owner is real nice.”
“She is,” Caitlin said. “I was there checking on my floral arrangements for my wedding on Saturday, making the last payment, et cetera. But my mother-in-law was also there.”
The cop winced, either from imagining the horrors of his own mother-in-law or from the fact that once Caitlin started to tell a story, there was no rushing her along. Probably he was sorry he’d asked and even more sorry he’d ever pulled them over to begin with.
“She got there ahead of me,” Caitlin went on. “And do you know what she did?”
Officer Ramirez sighed. “I really don’t need the details, ma’am.”
“She changed everything to roses. I’m allergic to roses, and do you know what my fiancé’s aunt said to me? She said I could take an antihistamine.” She paused. “Are you married, Officer Ramirez?”
The guy opened his mouth, but Maze gave him a subtle shake of her head. Indulging Caitlin would only make the story go on longer. Luckily Officer Ramirez could take a hint and kept his trap shut.
“Well,” Caitlin said, undeterred, “if you are, I hope your mother-in-law is nothing like my future mother-in-law.”
Officer Ramirez sighed, took his cap off, and scratched his head. “Truth is, I’m more afraid of my mother-in-law than I am of standing here and facing the rest of your story. I’m going to let your friend here off with a warning—”
“My sister,” Caitlin clarified. “Maze is my sister.”
There’d been a time when Maze would’ve done anything to be blood related to Caitlin. There’d also been a long stretch when she’d not allowed herself to go there. But in the past few days, she’d realized somethi
ng. She didn’t need to be actually related to Caitlin to claim her as her own. They were sisters. To the end.
“Your sister then,” Officer Ramirez said. “But no more throwing things from the car.”
“Don’t worry,” Maze said. “I’m taking the bride here straight to a bar.”
Officer Ramirez put his cap back on his head. “Just don’t go to the Cock and Bull in SLO, because that’s where I’m going after my shift, and nothing personal, but I don’t want to ever see you ladies again.”
When he walked away, Heather let out a long, shuddering breath. “No jail today,” she whispered to herself.
Maze slid Cat a look. “Well, that was fun.”
“Better than the florist meeting, though.”
Five minutes later, Maze pulled up to a dollar store. She gave Heather her credit card and Heather nodded sagely and got out of the car.
“What’s happening?” Cat asked.
“Wait for it,” Maze said.
Soon Heather was back in the car with two mystery bags. “Let the bachelorette party begin!”
“I’m not dressed for a bachelorette party,” Cat said, looking down at her casual sundress.
“We’ve got you covered,” Maze said. “Heather?”
“Yep.” Heather gave a bobblehead nod and opened one of the bags, pulling out a bright, bedazzled tiara. “Sorry, the pickings were pretty slim.”
Cat just blinked.
“It’s from Frozen,” Heather said. “I figured this way we can reuse it, because Sammie’s going to want it.” She handed it up to Caitlin. “Oh, and here. It’s from a Bride of Frankenstein costume that was on sale for fifty cents, but a veil is a veil, right?”
Caitlin stared down at the tattered veil made of torn lace. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“It’s a rite of passage,” Maze said. “Put them on.”
Cat did and then pulled down the sun visor to look at herself in the mirror. “Dear God, I look like a zombie princess.”
“I think it’s kinda awesome,” Heather said.
Cat pointed at Maze. “I’ll get you for this. Someday when you’re getting married—”
“Bite your tongue, woman.” Been there, done that, and now she had a set of divorce papers to sign to prove it. But even as she thought it, her heart constricted. Because she knew something no one else knew. Something was happening to her back here in Wildstone. She was . . . softening. More than that—and this was the biggie—she didn’t want to sign the papers. And she wanted to keep Walker.
How terrifying was that?
“Seriously,” Caitlin was saying as Maze pulled into the bar’s parking lot. “You’re going to fall in love hard, I just know it. Maybe even with Walker—”
She paused when Maze choked on her own tongue.
“Hey, it’s possible,” Caitlin said stubbornly, having no idea how accurate she was.
Heather pulled a pack of plain white T-shirts and a rainbow of Sharpies from the bags, and they sat in the car decorating the shirts. Cat’s said BRIDE-TO-BE, along with some design that was meant to be dandelions but actually looked like vaginas. Maze’s and Cat’s shirts said MAID OF HONOR.
They all pulled on their shirts, tying them at the waist so they fit better.
“Now we’re ready,” Heather said.
“Yeah.” Maze nodded. “The question is for what?”
Chapter 19
Maze’s maid of honor to-do list:
—Keep the gas tank full just in case Caitlin needs a getaway car.
Maze led the way into the Whiskey River Bar and Grill holding Cat’s hand.
“Thanks for not listening to me about no bachelorette party,” Cat said. “But I’m not really feeling the whole social thing.”
“No worries. It’s just me and Heather.”
“God, I love you,” Cat said with feeling.
A back corner booth had been decorated with streamers, balloons, and a string of lights that, up close and personal, Maze could see were shaped like little penises. She slid a look at Heather, who just laughed and said, “You’re welcome.”
They were served by the owner of the bar himself, Boomer Nichols. He brought a large pitcher of strawberry daiquiris to their booth, smiling when Maze pointed to the string of lit penises with a raised eyebrow.
“Standard bachelorette party decorations,” he said, hugging Caitlin. “We keep them handy for just such events. Wait until you see the cock cookies.”
“Oh my God,” Caitlin muttered, turning beet red. “Seriously?”
“Double grande, babe,” he said. “Just for you.”
Heather raised her hand.
Maze laughed. “What?”
“If I ever get married, I want double grande chocolate cock cookies at my bachelorette party.”
Maze took ahold of the pitcher of daiquiris. “Before I pour, we need a quick game of Truth or Dare.”
Caitlin shook her head. “I definitely need alcohol before that game.”
“Just play along for a second,” Heather said, knowing she and Maze needed a truth from Caitlin, a very specific truth.
“Fine,” Caitlin said. “Dare.”
“Are you sure?” Maze asked. “A truth will be easier, trust me.”
Heather nodded sagely.
“Nope,” Caitlin said, shaking her head. “I want a dare.”
That was curious enough on its own, but given what Maze had found back at the house in Cat’s bathroom trash, she was going to press the issue. “Fine. I dare you to get up on the bar and do stand-up comedy.”
“But I’m not funny.”
“Then you should take truth.”
“Oh my God, truth then.”
Heather leaned in. “Tell us a secret.”
Maze nearly laughed, because seriously, Heather and her secrets. But she didn’t laugh because Caitlin was holding a secret and it was scaring Maze.
Caitlin looked down at her diamond engagement ring. “Okay, truth.” She drew a deep breath. “I wish I’d given this more thought, which I can’t believe I just said out loud.” She thunked her head on the table a few times.
“Careful,” Maze said. “You’ll knock something loose.”
“I wouldn’t mind knocking myself into another life. Hey, is it considered premeditated if you drink yourself into a coma on purpose?”
“So you do wish you weren’t getting married,” Maze said softly.
“Moving on,” Cat said tightly. “Your turn, Maze. Truth or dare? And pour the damn drinks.”
“Not quite yet,” Maze said, holding on to the pitcher. “You’ve got a bigger secret. You have to tell us the biggest one.”
Caitlin squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay, fine, so I had a little, teeny-tiny thing happen last year. And yes, maybe my doctor called it a breakdown, but I prefer the word exhaustion . . .”
Maze and Heather stared at each other because that was so not the secret they’d been expecting.
“You had a breakdown? A year ago?” Heather asked.
Maze reached for Cat’s hand. “Are you okay?”
“Of course.”
“Cat,” Maze said softly.
“Look, it was just me holding everything in as always, and I finally burst. And Dillon . . .” She gave a small smile. “I know you won’t believe this, but he was amazing. He got me through it. He took me to a therapist and I got on some meds, and I’m good now.” She nodded earnestly to their faces. “Totally good.”
Maze put a hand on her chest. “I’m so sorry. We didn’t know, but that’s no excuse. You were all alone.”
“I wasn’t alone. I had Dillon. And I know you guys aren’t crazy about him, but he’s really been very good to me.” She paused, then cocked her head. “And why do I have the feeling that’s not the secret you were expecting either?”
Again Maze and Heather looked at each other, Maze still holding on to the pitcher.
“Oh my God,” Cat said. “I’m not a fragile little snowflake. Just tell me!”
; “Right before your 911 text, we found a pregnancy test kit in the bathroom trash,” Heather said, and then clapped her hands over her mouth.
Maze gave her a long look.
“Right,” Heather said from between her fingers. “Let Caitlin tell us. I always forget the important parts.”
Caitlin’s eyes narrowed. “What were you doing in my bathroom?”
“I’ve been borrowing your good face cream,” Heather admitted. “And Maze’s been borrowing your magic mascara.”
“Oh my God,” Maze said to Heather. “Seriously?” She sighed and turned back to Caitlin. “So we’re makeup thieves, get over it. Now spill about the pregnancy test.”
“You didn’t look at the results?”
“That would’ve been rude,” Maze said.
Cat laughed and shook her head. “So there are boundaries then. Good to know.” She drew a deep breath. “I’m not.” She tugged the pitcher out of Maze’s hands and poured them all very large glasses. “The end.”
“Why doesn’t it feel like the end?” Heather asked quietly.
“Because . . .” Caitlin’s eyes went misty. “Because I wanted to be pregnant.”
“So maybe you actually try next time,” Heather said.
Caitlin shook her head. “You guys heard Dillon, he doesn’t want to have my babies. Actually, I’m not sure he ever did.”
“Cat.” Maze gripped her hand tightly. “You know you have to talk to him about this, right? Like before you say ‘I do’—the day after tomorrow.”
“I know.” She lifted her glass. “But I don’t want to think about it anymore right now.”
Maze nodded, but she felt sick with worry and couldn’t zip it. “Because if you don’t talk about it with him, and it turns out you’re right, maybe you shouldn’t—”
“Maze, I know. Believe me, I know.”
“So—”
“Not right now.” Caitlin downed her drink, waited for everyone to do the same, then refilled their glasses and flagged Boomer down for a new pitcher. “Now drink and be merry, or I’ll find better drink mates.”
So they drank.
Two hours in, they’d consumed the cookies, played pool, and were on their third pitcher of daiquiris. The tiara was no longer sitting straight on Cat’s head. Maze didn’t know if she was drunk or on a sugar high.