The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(50)

Walker caught her hands in his. “I was already going out that night.” He held her gaze, his own steady. Open. “I only let you think it was your idea because I was going to walk there with you and Caitlin, then ditch you both to go hang out with my friends.”

She jerked to her feet. “What?”

“Yeah.” He stood as well. “Look, until a few days ago, I had no idea you were harboring all the guilt as your own. But, Maze, I’m the one who couldn’t get Michael out of the house alive.”

“No,” she said, stepping toward him, looking him right in the eyes. “Are you kidding me? You were the only one of us who even tried!”

He was looking at her with a strange expression. It took her a moment to realize she had her hands on his chest, that they stood toe-to-toe, and that her feet had no intention of backing up.

He shook his head. “The effort doesn’t mean jack shit, because I failed.”

For the first time since being back here, Maze could see pain in the depths of his eyes. She sucked in a breath, wondering how she’d been so clueless as to miss that he’d been suffering alone in silence. “Is that why you left when you turned eighteen?” she asked. “Going into the military and then the FBI? Because you couldn’t save Michael? You felt you needed to pay penance by trying to save the world instead?”

He didn’t say anything to this, which was as good as a yes.

“Oh, Walk,” she murmured softly.

He reached for her. There’d been something heavy lodged in her chest for a long time, but it loosened a bit now as he pulled her in, and she slowly felt her resolve wavering. The need to keep touching him was overpowering everything else, including breathing. She could hear the air catch in his throat as she moved her hands over him and up to cup his jaw, feeling the warmth and the delicious roughness of his stubble beneath her hand for the first time in years.

“I remember running into the house,” he said quietly, voice raw, “terrified you’d try to come with me. And then the next thing I knew, I was on a gurney and being taken away in an ambulance.”

Her chest tightened at the memory. “It was awful. The house was an inferno and you just ran right into it.” She could still smell the smoke, feel it burning her eyes and lungs. “We were terrified you were gone too.” She shook her head. “Why have we never talked about this?”

“Because you hate to talk about anything involving emotions, and I hate to make you sad. And remembering makes you sad.” He paused. “For a long time, I thought you were angry at me.”

“For what?”

“For not being able to get to Michael in time. For getting you drunk in Vegas and marrying you. For not making sure the paperwork didn’t get filed. Hell, for breathing.” He shrugged. “Pick one.”

She was stunned. “I’m not mad at you for any of that, and I can’t believe you’d think I was.”

“Then what? Because you’ve definitely been avoiding me for a long time.”

She drew a deep breath. “Truthfully?”

He nodded.

“Right now I’m not sure.”

Careful, her inner voice of reason whispered. It wasn’t all that long ago that he’d shattered you into pieces . . .

“What are we going to do about the divorce?”

His eyes had gone dark and sexy, but they cleared at her question. “I told you, the ball’s in your court, and I meant it. If you sign the docs and give them to me, I’ll take care of it.”

I’ll take care of it. That was exactly what he’d said the morning after their wedding. It had set her off then, and it set her off now. Because, oh yeah, she did remember why she was so mad at him. She was damn tired of being a mistake he had to take care of. And suddenly he was standing way too close. “Oh my God, I’m so stupid.” She gave him a little shove, needing him to back up.

He didn’t so much as budge.

“You’re an ass.”

“Undoubtedly.” He paused. “But a hint would be nice.”

Mental head slap, because on most things, he knew exactly what she was feeling. So how was it that when it came to this, to them, he never seemed to know? And why hadn’t she stopped feeling things for him, all the things . . . Gah. She hated that, resented it so much that the ball in her chest was back. “I’ll give you a hint,” she said, and shoved him again.

He grabbed her hands. “Stop.”

But she couldn’t. She needed to go, needed to get past him, so she shoulder-checked him as she slid by.

“Dammit, Maze—”

Which was the last thing she heard before they both went tumbling off the dock and into the water. Plunging into the lake at night was scary because there was literally no perspective. It was dark above the surface and just as dark beneath it, so for one horrifyingly long beat, Maze couldn’t figure out which way was up.

Then a set of strong hands shoved her to the surface.

“What the hell, Maze?”

“You made me mad!”

He looked at her incredulously. “So you dumped us both into the lake?”

“I didn’t mean to! And since when are you not strong as an ox?”

“Since you got your bony-ass shoulder right into the exact spot where I was shot.”