The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(43)

Exhilarating and terrifying.

“That was my boss on the phone,” he said softly. “So I’m going to ask you again. Is there something you want to tell me?”

He wanted her to come clean about Jace. But remembering how quickly he’d forgotten her, she knew her pride wasn’t going to let him off the hook. No way, no how. So she pulled free and said, “Absolutely not.” And with her nose in the air, she went to join the others.

“The frames have to be perfect,” she called out. “They’re going to be filled with pics of Caitlin’s favorite people. If you stain them wrong, you won’t be one of those people.”

Jace laughed.

“Trust me,” Heather whispered. “She’s actually not kidding.”

After, they put together some other wood accents for the reception, centerpieces for the tables, and cute signs designating different areas, like a food and drink station and a photo booth. Maze ticked everything off in the wedding bible, and afterward she took Caitlin for her last dress fitting—with a pit in the bottom of her stomach. Cat’s mom was going to FaceTime at the dress shop, which had Maze sweating in uncomfortable places and blood rushing through her veins. On a scale of one to passing out from a panic attack, she was at a nine-point-nine.

The shop was a cute, fancy place in San Luis Obispo, about thirty minutes from the lake house. Cat was quiet on the drive. Maze too. She knew why she wasn’t saying much: she couldn’t, because anxiety was blocking her air passage. But the quiet was definitely out of character for Cat. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” Cat said.

“Sure?” Maze slid her a look. “That doesn’t sound like you. What’s wrong?”

“This week’s going too fast.”

Maze risked another look. “You want to push the wedding? Just say the word, babe. I’ll handle the rest, no worries.”

Cat’s eyes filled and she turned away to stare out the window. “That’s not it.”

“Then what?”

“You’ll all leave after the wedding,” Cat said quietly.

This caused an actual stab of pain straight through Maze’s chest. Taking one hand off the wheel, she set it on Cat’s and entwined their fingers. “I’m a dickhead,” she said.

Cat gave a startled laugh and wiped a tear away. “Yes.”

“Huh.” Maze let out a small smile. “Thought you might at least pretend to argue that one. Look . . .” She drew a deep breath as she pulled into the dress shop parking lot, parked, and turned to Cat. “I might physically leave because, well, I have a job and I like to have a roof over my head. But I’ll never vanish on you again. I’ll pick up a phone, answer a text, and come see you—and have you come see me—as often as possible. You can see my work, meet my friends—”

“You have friends?”

“Haha,” Maze said. “And yes. I mean, not like you and Heather, of course. But I have work friends, and also a few in my apartment building, and where I volunteer at the women’s shelter—”

“Wait. You volunteer? At a women’s shelter?”

Maze shrugged. “I had some extra time and—”

“You volunteer. You help people, maybe even kids who were like you and needed a place to go so they couldn’t get hurt by some asshole—”

“I mostly just clean, so don’t make me into some kind of hero,” Maze grumbled, but it was too late.

Cat leaned over the console and hugged her tight. “Oh, Maze. You’re amazing, you know that, right?”

“Look, you can come with me when you visit. You can clean a few toilets and then see if you think it’s so amazing. It’s only a two-hour drive. We can even FaceTime—”

Cat grabbed Maze by the front of her shirt and gave her a smacking kiss right on the lips.

“Wow. Okay. But I don’t put all the way out unless you buy me a meal first.”

Cat kissed her again, her eyes shimmering with tears. “You mean it, right?”

“I mean it,” she vowed, her own throat tight. “Now, are we going in, or do you want to make out?”

Cat was laughing as they walked into the shop. If only Maze could feel as carefree at the moment, but she was incredibly aware that in a few minutes she was going to see Cat’s mom again.

They were served champagne and cookies, and were enjoying them, when Cat got a text.

“Oh no,” she murmured. “Mom’s stuck in a meeting. Her boss is as mean as mine.”

“It’s okay,” Maze assured her while trying not to show her sheer relief. “I’ve got you. I’ll take pics for her.”

The tailor first brought out Maze’s bridesmaid dress for her to pick up since Heather had already gotten hers. Maze thought she managed to hide her cringe at the color of the dress, which was supposed to be peach but looked more like a sort of unhealthy orange.

“Dillon’s mom loved that color,” Caitlin said.

“It’s . . .” Maze managed to smile. “. . . great.”

Caitlin nodded doubtfully, looking very distracted as she was ushered into a dressing room.

When she hadn’t come out five full minutes later, Maze knocked on the door. “Need help?”

“I need something.”