The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(30)

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked.

She shrugged and concentrated on the night around her. The moon was a little sliver in the sky; the water lapped gently against the rocky beach and dock pylons. She felt . . . overwhelmed, but it wasn’t from seeing Caitlin and Heather again. No matter how much time they went without seeing one another, they fell back into their same old rhythm, and even with all the things between them that hadn’t been said, it was an odd comfort.

She supposed that was the meaning of family.

But seeing Walker . . . that wasn’t comfortable at all. She’d told herself she wouldn’t react to seeing him again, that she wouldn’t let his presence get to her, that she could ignore him.

She’d failed on all counts.

He, of course, didn’t appear to be having any of these same issues. He’d remained cool, calm, stoic, even amused by the fact Caitlin had tricked them into spending all this time together. Amused and . . . sweet. At least to Caitlin and Heather and Sammie.

Maze could remember a time when he’d been sweet with her as well. How even drunk in Vegas that night, she’d felt cared for. She’d felt safe with him. Safe and protected, two things she’d rarely, if ever, felt in her life, because she more than anyone knew safe and protected were nothing but illusions. And yet Walker had a way of making the illusion seem real, more real than anything else in her life.

She needed to keep her guard up so she didn’t accidently fall again. Because this wasn’t about her and Walker. It was about Caitlin, whom Maze wanted to protect, the same way Caitlin had always protected her. It was Maze’s turn now, and she wanted to keep Caitlin from experiencing any heartbreak.

Because as far as she could tell, there was always heartbreak with love.

“Maze.”

“I’m sleeping fine.”

He nodded. “Okay, so if you don’t want to talk about that, then there’s something else.”

“What?”

He tossed a folder down at her side.

She stared at the file and then craned her neck to try to see his face more clearly. “What is this?”

“Our divorce papers,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Turns out drunk Elvis did file the papers, which sealed the deal.”

She blinked once, slow as an owl. “‘Sealed the deal,’” she echoed slowly.

“He made our wedding legit,” Walker said. “We’re married.”

She sat up so fast she got dizzy. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do you think I’d joke about this?”

Mind racing, she stared at him. “Are you telling me that we’ve been married this whole time?”

“Yes.”

Having a hard time processing, she shook her head. “How long have you known?”

“Maze—”

“How long, Walker?”

“Six months.”

“Six months?” Here was the thing about having your stomach hit your toes: it made you feel like you were going to throw up. Or maybe that was just her life. “Six months?”

“I found out when I went to get a loan for a piece of property I was thinking of buying,” he said. “The lender needed my wife’s info so he could check her credit as well as mine.”

“Whoa.” She could only imagine the shock of that call. “That must have been a surprise.”

He let out a low laugh. “Yeah.”

“Six months . . .” she whispered again.

“Are you going to just keep repeating that?”

“I think I am, yeah.” She got to her feet too fast and wobbled. There was a clanging in her head and her vision went wonky. “Dammit.”

“Maze?”

“Hold on. There’s three of you, and while once upon a time I’d have loved to have three of you at once, right now I’m going to throw up.”

He moved efficiently and quickly, and before she could so much as blink, he’d pushed her to sit again and had palmed the back of her clammy neck. “Push against my hand.”

She had no idea why she did what he’d directed. Maybe it was his surprisingly gentle, but absolutely authoritative, tone. Or because she was starting to feel like she was drowning, and at the moment, like it or not, he was her only lifeline. Dropping her head to her knees, she closed her eyes.

“So you want three of me, huh?”

She kept her eyes closed. “Wanted, past tense. And only in bed.”

He laughed.

Lifting her head, she glared at him. “How is it that you’ve known for six months and you’re only just now telling me?”

“I wanted to get you the solution before I told you the problem,” he said.

“And that took six months?”

“I got my attorney on it right away, but then I was away on a job. I knew I’d see you here, and I thought this would go over better if I told you in person.”

She turned her head and stared out at the water. “You don’t have to tiptoe around me. You should know that.”

He didn’t answer, which had her looking at him again.

His eyes were dark. Serious. “I don’t know much about you anymore, Maze.”

“Other than we’re married.”