The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(17)

Heather looked at Walker, eyes wide, brows up.

He shook his head. The man could say more with a head shake than anyone Maze had ever met. It could mean don’t worry, or it’s not worth the argument, or I’ve got this. Maze was pretty sure that this particular head shake meant the last one, because he stepped closer to Caitlin and took her hand. “Hey,” he said to her softly. “It’s going to be okay.”

“No, it’s not!”

It wasn’t like she was screaming, but . . . it was definitely an outside voice, which was shocking. Caitlin never used her outside voice and was always the epitome of calm and in control.

“Oh my God,” Caitlin said when they all just stared at her. “I’m allowed to lose my shit, you know! I’m allowed the bridal moment that all the books say I’m entitled to!”

Walker put his hands on her shoulders. “First,” he said, “breathe.”

Wrapping her hands around his wrists, Caitlin stared into his eyes. “One, two, three, four, five . . . Nope.” She shook her head. “I can’t go on unless you’re staying. All of you. We used to be BFFs, remember? Because I do. I remember everything.” Her eyes filled. “But at the moment, I don’t feel like I have any BFFs at all, and I hate that. I miss you guys, dammit. And the least you could do is pretend to miss me just as much.”

Maze’s chest went tight and she stepped to Walker’s side to face the woman she wanted back as her BFF as well, even though she didn’t deserve her after failing her so badly. “We’re staying,” she said, ignoring the feel of Walker’s surprised gaze on her. “We’ll stay as long as you need.”

“We will?” Heather asked.

“Yes,” Maze said.

“Okay,” Heather agreed, nodding like a bobblehead. “We will.”

Maze looked at Walker.

The man wasn’t afraid of much. Maybe nothing, and certainly not her. But she gave him her hardest do this gaze, and apparently even he knew when to go up against her and when to let the tide take him. “Yeah,” he said. “We’re staying.”

Maze nodded at him. Then she turned back to Caitlin.

“Do I still have the crazy eyes?” Caitlin asked.

“No,” Maze said.

A total lie. Caitlin definitely still had the crazy eyes, and Maze got it. Cat was afraid they’d all take off on her, as if any of them could. She’d held them together all these years single-handedly, and Maze knew they’d be nothing without Caitlin Walsh.

Which meant whatever the bride wanted, whatever she needed, Maze would do. She’d make this right; she’d give everything she had, which admittedly wasn’t much. “Where’s your lip gloss? You’re never without lip gloss.”

“In my pocket,” Caitlin whispered.

Maze pulled it from Cat’s pocket and handed it to her. “Time to get it together, babe. We’re all right here and not going anywhere.”

Caitlin gripped Maze’s arms, eyes a little wild. “Promise?”

“Promise on Michael’s grave,” she whispered.

“Okay then.” Caitlin let out a shaky breath and nodded. “We’re going to need more wine from the cellar.”

Of that, Maze had no doubt.





Chapter 4


Caitlin’s to-do list:

—Get Sammie to love me.

—Stop going to the kitchen in the middle of the night to forage.

—Buy wedding shoes that will make me look gorgeous and confident.

For the first time in weeks, Caitlin woke up without heartburn. This was due to two reasons. First, her house was full of her people. Sure, she’d had to trick them into being here, and Dillon had almost blown everything by outing her the way he had, but everyone had called off work for the next week.

Surprisingly, Dillon was reason number two. Last night, he’d started off on the couch, but somewhere around the time she’d brewed Sleepytime tea to help get sleepy, and which she might’ve added her last swig of brandy to, he’d shown up in the kitchen, said, “The couch sucks because you’re not on it,” and then promised to go to the store and buy her more alcohol in the morning. He’d probably buy the wrong stuff, but he was trying and that meant something. So had the way he’d kissed her as if he could do that for the rest of his life.

Nights like that reminded her of why she loved him.

She tried to roll over but couldn’t. Opening her eyes, she realized the answer for that. Roly was on her chest and Poly on her legs. She couldn’t feel her toes. She tried to move the dogs, but somehow they’d turned themselves into tiny sacks of cement, as always refusing to budge until their master, Lord Dillon, awoke and told them it was time to eat. “Dillon,” she said. “Help, I’m trapped.”

Dillon stretched and opened his dark eyes, taking in the problem in an instant. He chuckled warmly, and the tender amusement in his gaze made her toes curl. With a kiss to her nose, he said, “Time for breakfast, babies.”

The pugs replied with snuffles and snorts, wriggling in sheer pleasure as he scooped them off of Caitlin and gently plopped them on the floor.

“That should buy us a few minutes,” he said, and pulled her to him. “Hey.”

“Hey.”