by Jill Shalvis
He squeezed her hand. “That was never true. Well . . . okay, maybe the wild, feral part is,” he said, laughing when she rolled her eyes. “But you always had plans and dreams. You wanted to be a bartender. You used to make us fun drinks from stuff in the fridge.”
“Some people think I should aim higher.”
“What people?”
She lifted a shoulder. “People.”
“Since when do you care what anyone thinks?” he asked.
She bit her lower lip. “Okay, it’s me. I worry that I should be aiming higher. I guess that’s why I’m in school too. Maybe I can be a business manager at a place where I can also take on some bartending shifts.”
“Cat told me you volunteer at a women’s shelter.”
“Cat has loose lips.”
He smiled. “She loves you. She’s proud of you. And so am I.”
She squirmed, uncomfortable with the praise, so he changed the subject.
“We all had simple dreams back then. Simple doesn’t mean not good enough. And the way I see it, you’re the only one of us currently following your dream.”
“You were interested in owning your own place because you like people and also like to gather them around you. But more than that, you wanted something of your own that no one could take away from you.”
“You remember all that?” he asked, surprised.
“I remember everything,” she said softly. “Caitlin wanted to be the cook. Heather wanted to be in charge of the books because she likes numbers.” She laughed a little. “God, we had it so good back then and didn’t even know it. Why can’t life be like that all the time?”
“It could be. With you, I know it could be.”
She looked stunned . . . and uncertain. “How do you know?”
She was still in his lap, so he turned her to fully face him, wrapping his arms around her. “Because being with you now is as easy as it was back then. Don’t you get it yet, Maze? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to my life.”
“You spent one year with me, and that was accidental. We could’ve landed at different houses, easily.”
He raised a brow. “And now, this week?”
“Another freak accident that we’re both here at the same time,” she said.
“Caitlin’s wedding is a freak accident?”
“Actually, it’s a disaster in the making,” she corrected him. “And if it hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t be here. So yeah, it’s also an accident. And anyone who knows us is going to think this is ridiculous, that it’s just an itch to scratch, that we have no business trying to make something of it.”
That was fear talking. He knew because he felt it too. The only difference was that it wouldn’t stop him from trying. “Your happiness is all that matters to those of us who love you, Maze. You can be you all the way to the bone, and we’ll all still love you and support any choices you make.”
“That’s—” She broke off, looking shocked. “Wait. Did you just say you love me?”
He couldn’t help the smile at her shock. “I said you can be who you are.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You said you loved me.”
He nodded, watching her carefully. “Scared?”
“No,” she said. Hesitated. “Maybe.”
He tugged playfully on a stray strand of her gorgeous, wild hair, currently the same fiery color as the sky. “Truth is, Maze, I’ve always loved you.”
She didn’t so much as blink. “Me too,” she finally whispered.
He snorted and pressed his forehead to hers.
“I do!”
Her fervor spoke more of her feelings than words ever could, and equal parts affection and thrill went through him.
“I feel it, you know,” she said earnestly. “I just . . . don’t like to say it.”
Since he knew why, he wasn’t about to push the issue and dredge up any bad memories for her. “I know. And I get it, Maze.” He smiled. “You’re better at show than tell.”
Her own smile was sweet and filled with relief, and she slid her fingers into his hair. Tightening her grip, she directed his mouth to hers. “Let me do a little show-not-tell right here,” she murmured, straddling him to do just that.
“You were worried about broad daylight.”
“Yes, but it’s not all the way light yet . . . we’ve got a few minutes.”
He smiled and tightened his grip on her. “Good thing I do some of my best work under pressure.”
CAITLIN SLIPPED QUIETLY out of bed and into the shower, but not before taking aspirin and cursing last night’s alcohol for her pounding head. In the steaming water, she closed her eyes and let the hot water work its magic. But no amount of hot water could push back her problems and worries. They were simply becoming too big for her to manage with a smile and a few deep breaths. So she went with the facts.
One, she wasn’t pregnant.
Two, she wanted to be.
Three, she no longer believed Dillon was on board for that.
On the bathroom counter, her phone was having a seizure. Sara, of course, with more work problems. “It’s a deli,” she said to the phone. “Not life or death.” Which led her to fact number four: she wanted to leave her job and work for herself, but again, not sure Dillon was on board for that either.
And then there was the biggest fact of all. Number five: she now believed that she’d rushed into this wedding—a disaster of her own making. As someone who’d prided herself her entire life on always making smart decisions, she was horrified. And at that realization, her knees gave in to the nerves and she sat on the floor of the bathtub, letting the water pummel her.
“Caitlin,” Dillon said quietly.
Her head snapped up and she stared at him.
He lifted his hands, signaling that he wasn’t here for a fight. “You okay?”
“I just need a few minutes.” Or another year . . .
“I understand.” Reaching in past her, he turned off the water. Then he gently wrapped her up in a towel, picked her up, and brought her back to bed.
The dogs were in it, of course, but he did the unthinkable. He shooed them off and set her on the bed, therefore putting her ahead of his “babies.”
“But you don’t like it when the covers get wet,” she said inanely.
“I don’t like it when my future wife is sad.” He tipped her face up to meet his. “Can you talk to me?”
She drew a deep breath. She’d tried everything else, so why not? “I’m, um . . . six days late.”
“For making the last payment on the rental equipment?” he asked. “Yeah, I know. They called me and I took care of it.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean, thank you. I’d forgotten. But that’s not the kind of late I was talking about.”
He blinked. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
He drew in a deep breath. “Are you . . . ?”
“No. I took a test.”
He sagged with clear relief and smiled. “Okay.”
She did not smile, and his slowly faded.
“You were hoping otherwise.”
She nodded, and he grimaced and shoved his fingers into his hair.
“Aw, Caitlin. I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes filled, but she swallowed hard. “Are you?”
“Yes.” He pulled her to him. “Babe, you know I love you, right?”
“And I love you,” she said. “I do. But, Dillon, this is a big problem for me, and it should be for you too. It turns out we want two very different things. How can we do this? How can we get married tomorrow?”
He took her hands and looked her in the eyes. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t jump right onto the baby train. And it’s not like I don’t want them ever, I just don’t want them right now. This isn’t something that has to derail us.”
“But what if you never get on the baby train?”
Their gazes held for a long beat and then he let out a weighty sigh. “Can’t we deal with that when the time comes?”
/>
Yes. They could. They absolutely could. But . . . did she want to? Did she love him enough that in the end, if he decided it was never the time to have kids, that it would be okay? That she’d be okay?
He took in her expression and shook his head. “Caitlin,” he said softly, squeezing her hands. “You’re scaring me.”
“Same. You’re asking me to wait and see in good faith, no questions asked.”
“And you’re asking me to make you a promise on something I’m not sure about. I won’t lie to you, Caitlin. No matter how much I want this, we can’t start it out with a lie.”
“So what then? Where does this leave us?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered.
“I don’t think—”
He gently set a finger on her lips and shook his head. “No, please don’t say it. Not yet, okay? Let’s think about it.”
She wrapped her hand around his. “The rehearsal dinner is tonight. The wedding’s tomorrow.”
He pulled their joined hands to his chest. “Yes, and come tomorrow, I want you to do what you think is right. You follow your heart, and I’ll accept it either way.”
He was telling her it was her choice whether they did this or not. On the surface, that was incredibly gallant. But just beyond that came another, darker inkling. He wasn’t sure about getting married either, or he’d never have given her an out. Not only wasn’t he sure, but he didn’t want to be the bad guy. “Dillon—”
“Shh,” he whispered, and pulled her in close, warming her up in the way that they communicated best.
She didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, what she’d do. All she did know was that he wasn’t going to make the decision, that it was all on her to do so, to either show up . . .
. . . or not.
Chapter 23
Maze’s to-do list:
—Be there for Caitlin no matter what.
Late that afternoon, Maze stared at herself in the mirror. She was in a pale rose dress that was more demure than she’d normally wear, but Caitlin’s rehearsal dinner was not a place where she wanted to stick out.
In fact, if she could get away with not going at all and continuing to avoid Cat’s parents—who, let’s face it, she’d severely disappointed over the years—she would. But she always knew she’d have to face the music at some point, and tonight was it.
She drew in a shaky breath. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Cat had been acting off all day, so when earlier she’d asked Maze to make sure everything ran smoothly during the wedding rehearsal, she’d readily agreed without thinking it through.
Being in charge of everything running smoothly was going to be interesting in its own right, but that task was nowhere near the same anxiety-inducing level as knowing that in less than an hour she’d be walking into a room and coming face-to-face with Caitlin’s parents for the first time since she’d walked out of their anniversary party all those years ago.
The adult Maze understood that all of it, including her reaction to the Walshes’ move after the fire, wasn’t their fault. But the angry, hurting, devastated teenage Maze hadn’t understood a damn thing. All she’d known was that she’d had to once again pack up her bag and start over.
Her reaction embarrassed her now. They’d lost a child. Michael was gone forever, and she’d had a hand in that. Cat’s parents deserved more from her than what they’d gotten, at the very least a sincere apology. That she hadn’t managed to do so before now meant she clearly wasn’t nearly as grown up as she liked to believe. The truth was Shelly and Jim had saved her. They’d given her a home when she’d never really had one she could trust before. They’d given her so much, and all she’d done in return was hurt them.
They took two cars to the restaurant. Caitlin and Dillon went together, and then Walker, Heather, Jace, Sammie, and Maze in a second car.
Originally—as in before Heather had shown up with Sammie—there wasn’t going to be a flower girl. But Caitlin had decided that Sammie belonged in her wedding, and no one even tried to argue otherwise. Once Caitlin made a decision about something, not even God could change her mind.
Walker parked and Jace pulled Sammie from her car seat. “I’ve got her tonight,” he told Heather. “You do what you have to do for Caitlin and enjoy yourself. We’ll be fine.” He smiled down at Sammie and gently booped her nose. “Right?”
Sammie let out a stream of garbled words no one could understand, but she seemed enthusiastic about it.
Heather got out with a sweet, thankful smile for Jace. Maze loved that Jace could calm Heather, who deserved someone like him in her life.
As far as herself, Maze had convinced herself over the years that she didn’t need anyone. She’d been wrong of course, but she had been proud of herself for hiding it from everyone.
Walker held the door of the restaurant open, letting Jace, Sammie, and Heather through, but then held Maze back. He was dressed in charcoal-gray pants and a slightly lighter charcoal button-down that complemented his leanly muscled build in a way that could almost take her mind off her troubles.
Almost.
“What?” she asked, finally meeting his gaze to find him taking her in as well, a small sexy smile telling her he was every bit as appreciative of his view of her. Her heels put her at eye level with his mouth, which she couldn’t help but stare at. After all, it was a pretty great mouth, and she should know. It’d had its merry way with every inch of her body—
“You okay?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“That’s not an answer.” He searched her gaze. “You’re freaking out.”
“I’m freaking out,” she admitted softly.
“Jim and Shelly are going to be thrilled to see you.”
“You don’t know that.” She shook her head and looked around for a way out. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You were thinking that you wanted to be here for Caitlin, but you’ve just realized you’re so far outside of your comfort zone that you can’t even see the comfort zone.”
“Yes!” She grabbed him by the shirt. “I can’t do this. What made me think I could do this?”
He covered her hands with his warm ones. “Because when someone you care about needs you, you give them your all, no matter the personal cost.”
She dropped her forehead to his shoulder and took the comforting hug he offered, sighing in pleasure at the feel of his arms closing around her. “Thanks,” she whispered.
“Any time.” He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “And I meant that. Any time.”
She’d never really believed in a forever sort of love, but somehow Walker was making it feel possible. Which was momentarily terrifying enough to bank her panic over the evening ahead. “Okay,” she murmured. “I’m good. Let’s get this over with.”
He gave her a small squeeze. “That’s no way to live, Maze, just trying to get through all the moments.”
“Not all the moments,” she said, even though she knew he was right. “Just some of them.” Or, you know, a lot of them . . .
They walked in together and were greeted by a hostess with a tray of filled wineglasses. Walker took two and handed her one as they met up with the others.
“To pregaming,” Maze said, and clinked hers with first Heather’s, Jace’s, and then Walker’s.
The hostess pointed them to the big open room in the back that had been set aside for the dinner. The entire back wall was sliding glass doors that were opened to the property. The plan was to walk through the wedding ceremony first, then eat after. As she knew from her trip here earlier in the week, the property had a huge grassy area, trimmed and landscaped beautifully with oaks lining the sides, flowers planted to add color, and, far off to the west, a stunning view of the ocean. Tonight the crowd would be small, the gathering intimate—family and wedding party only. Tomorrow, with two-hundred-plus people, it’d be a zoo.
Caitlin and Dillon were at the open doors, greeting the various wedding p
arty members. Dillon had a grip on Caitlin’s hand as if she were a flight risk. But Caitlin broke free to hug Maze, then pulled back to look into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Maze shook her head with a smile. “Nothing.”
Caitlin searched Maze’s gaze and sighed. “Maze, they’re going to be so happy to see you. Please, don’t worry.”
“Who, me? Worry?” Maze managed a laugh. “Why would I worry? You’re the one getting married.”
Caitlin rolled her eyes but squeezed Maze’s hand before being tugged away by Dillon to greet some of his family.
Maze turned to eye the room as a warm mouth brushed her ear. “You’ve got this.”
Maze sagged a little. “I just don’t know what to say to them.”
“How about ‘It's good to see you’?”
Caitlin’s mom and dad were standing in front of a pretty wood high-top table showcasing framed pictures of Caitlin and Dillon, warmly greeting people as they walked by, smiling, laughing.
Not too late to run, Maze thought, but then Shelly turned to hug someone and her gaze snagged on Maze from across the room and she smiled.
Maze froze.
Walker followed her gaze. “She seems happy to see you again.”
“She has to pretend to be happy to see me.”
Walker turned his head and looked at her, eyes serious. “Do you really not know?”
“What?”
“How we’re all happy to see you again. Like to-the-bone happy, Maze.”
“You also have to say that. You’re sleeping with me.”
He snorted. “There’s been almost zero sleeping involved, and I don’t ever say anything I don’t want to. Neither do they.” Then he gave her a little nudge in their direction, which actually was more like a shove.
There was no way out of this now, and her stomach sank and hit her toes. She didn’t want to do this—God, she so didn’t want to—but she was no longer that wild teenager who ran from . . . well, everything. This weekend was about Caitlin, not Mayhem Maze.
Besides, they’d already seen her.
Caitlin’s mom gave her a wave and then a little finger crook to come over there.
Somehow feeling cold yet also sweating at the same time, she started walking.
