The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(76)

He was still grinning. “Okay.”

“Ugh, you’re so full of yourself.”

He twisted and lifted his shirt to show her his back. When she sucked in a breath, he knew she’d locked her gaze not on his burn scars, but on the angry scratches down his back, vanishing into his pants. He could’ve dropped them and shown her the ten nail indentions in his ass, but he figured she had enough evidence.

“Oh my God,” she said. “I’m an animal.”

He laughed at her horror. “Yeah. And I loved every second of it.”

Boomer came out the front door, Caitlin in one hand, Heather in the other. “You forgetting something?”

Walker rose and relieved Boomer of his cargo. It took a few minutes to wrangle them all into the car. He got Heather and Caitlin into the back and seat-belted them up, and then Maze into the front. Once he slid behind the wheel, he leaned over and buckled her up as well.

The two in the back sighed dramatically.

“Okay,” he said, craning his neck. “Seriously. What’s going on with all the dreamy sighs tonight?”

“Nothing,” Maze said, giving both back-seat occupants a long, hard look.

They giggled.

Aw, hell. He ran a hand over his eyes and then turned to Maze. “You told them about us.”

“You went to Vegas and I won forty bucks!” Heather yelled cheerfully.

Walker raised a brow at Maze.

She pretended as if he wasn’t in the car. In fact, she pulled up the hood on his sweatshirt and turned to face the window.

“She also told us you’re married,” Heather said. “And that you said she was a mistake.”

“Heather!” Caitlin whispered.

“What, it’s true!”

Walker glanced at Maze. “I said ‘it’ was a mistake, not that you were a mistake.”

“Oh my God,” Caitlin muttered. “News flash, Walk, any woman would have taken that as an insult. Why are men stupid?”

“I don’t know, but it’s so true,” Heather said. “I tried to switch to women, but I didn’t like them either. Too much drama.”

Walker adjusted the rearview mirror to look at Caitlin and Heather. “You’re telling me that Maze doesn’t want the divorce?”

Cat turned to Heather. “He’s getting pretty old. Maybe he’s started to lose his hearing along with his wits.”

Heather nodded sagely. “Good thing, or he’d be able to hear us now.”

“I can hear you,” he said. “And she wants the divorce.” He turned to Maze, but her deep breathing and stillness told him she was no longer just ignoring him.

She’d fallen asleep.

He didn’t get two blocks before the chatter in the back seat stopped as well. One glance in the rearview mirror explained why. Caitlin and Heather had also fallen asleep, curled up together like a pair of kittens.

Relieved at the silence, he drove home, his mind racing. Was what Caitlin and Heather said true—did Maze not want to file for divorce? And if so, what did it mean?

He hadn’t realized she had taken, nor had he meant for her to take, the “mistake” comment to heart. He’d truly believed he’d been her mistake and had been operating from the knowledge that neither of them had been thinking clearly that long-ago night. That they’d been far too young to tether themselves to each other. That as much as it’d destroyed him, they’d done the right thing by going their separate ways. He, for one, had needed to grow the hell up, and he had.

And Maze had always been violently allergic to any sort of roots or ties, especially relationships. Hell, she still couldn’t even say the words I love you to those she clearly did love, like the two in his back seat.

In fact, the whole reason he’d presented the divorce the way he had was so that she wouldn’t completely freak and feel like he was trying to trap her into a commitment with him. He’d used the fact that she’d made it crystal clear she hadn’t wanted to stay connected to him in any way as further proof.

And you’d walked away pretty damn quickly yourself, never bringing it up again, instead letting it fester between you like a dirty secret. Like she was your dirty secret . . .

But that was the past, he argued with himself. And now it seemed possible that he’d made decisions based on facts that weren’t true. The thought sent an odd sensation running through his veins, a glimmer of something new.

Hope.

He glanced over at Maze again, so still in the passenger seat, head tilted awkwardly to the side. Reaching out, he nudged her into a better position, causing her to let out a soft snore, which made him laugh. Even snoring she looked good.

He had it bad.

He’d sent a quick text to Jace, so when he pulled up to the house, Jace was already there waiting. He peered into the window of the car and shook his head with a small laugh.

“Where’s Dillon?” Walker asked. “I texted him too.”

Jace shrugged. “I don’t know. I knocked on their bedroom door, but he didn’t answer.”

Asshole. Walker got out of the car. “If you take Heather, I’ll get the other two.”

Jace nodded and scooped up Heather.

“Mmm,” she whispered, throwing her arms around his neck, snuggling in, and setting her head trustingly on his shoulder without ever opening her eyes. “I love the way you smell. Where’s my baby?”