The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(37)

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.”