The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(86)

“That’s not an answer.” He searched her gaze. “You’re freaking out.”

“I’m freaking out,” she admitted softly.

“Jim and Shelly are going to be thrilled to see you.”

“You don’t know that.” She shook her head and looked around for a way out. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking that you wanted to be here for Caitlin, but you’ve just realized you’re so far outside of your comfort zone that you can’t even see the comfort zone.”

“Yes!” She grabbed him by the shirt. “I can’t do this. What made me think I could do this?”

He covered her hands with his warm ones. “Because when someone you care about needs you, you give them your all, no matter the personal cost.”

She dropped her forehead to his shoulder and took the comforting hug he offered, sighing in pleasure at the feel of his arms closing around her. “Thanks,” she whispered.

“Any time.” He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “And I meant that. Any time.”

She’d never really believed in a forever sort of love, but somehow Walker was making it feel possible. Which was momentarily terrifying enough to bank her panic over the evening ahead. “Okay,” she murmured. “I’m good. Let’s get this over with.”

He gave her a small squeeze. “That’s no way to live, Maze, just trying to get through all the moments.”

“Not all the moments,” she said, even though she knew he was right. “Just some of them.” Or, you know, a lot of them . . .

They walked in together and were greeted by a hostess with a tray of filled wineglasses. Walker took two and handed her one as they met up with the others.

“To pregaming,” Maze said, and clinked hers with first Heather’s, Jace’s, and then Walker’s.

The hostess pointed them to the big open room in the back that had been set aside for the dinner. The entire back wall was sliding glass doors that were opened to the property. The plan was to walk through the wedding ceremony first, then eat after. As she knew from her trip here earlier in the week, the property had a huge grassy area, trimmed and landscaped beautifully with oaks lining the sides, flowers planted to add color, and, far off to the west, a stunning view of the ocean. Tonight the crowd would be small, the gathering intimate—family and wedding party only. Tomorrow, with two-hundred-plus people, it’d be a zoo.

Caitlin and Dillon were at the open doors, greeting the various wedding party members. Dillon had a grip on Caitlin’s hand as if she were a flight risk. But Caitlin broke free to hug Maze, then pulled back to look into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Maze shook her head with a smile. “Nothing.”

Caitlin searched Maze’s gaze and sighed. “Maze, they’re going to be so happy to see you. Please, don’t worry.”

“Who, me? Worry?” Maze managed a laugh. “Why would I worry? You’re the one getting married.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes but squeezed Maze’s hand before being tugged away by Dillon to greet some of his family.

Maze turned to eye the room as a warm mouth brushed her ear. “You’ve got this.”

Maze sagged a little. “I just don’t know what to say to them.”

“How about ‘It's good to see you’?”

Caitlin’s mom and dad were standing in front of a pretty wood high-top table showcasing framed pictures of Caitlin and Dillon, warmly greeting people as they walked by, smiling, laughing.

Not too late to run, Maze thought, but then Shelly turned to hug someone and her gaze snagged on Maze from across the room and she smiled.

Maze froze.

Walker followed her gaze. “She seems happy to see you again.”

“She has to pretend to be happy to see me.”

Walker turned his head and looked at her, eyes serious. “Do you really not know?”

“What?”

“How we’re all happy to see you again. Like to-the-bone happy, Maze.”

“You also have to say that. You’re sleeping with me.”

He snorted. “There’s been almost zero sleeping involved, and I don’t ever say anything I don’t want to. Neither do they.” Then he gave her a little nudge in their direction, which actually was more like a shove.

There was no way out of this now, and her stomach sank and hit her toes. She didn’t want to do this—God, she so didn’t want to—but she was no longer that wild teenager who ran from . . . well, everything. This weekend was about Caitlin, not Mayhem Maze.

Besides, they’d already seen her.

Caitlin’s mom gave her a wave and then a little finger crook to come over there.

Somehow feeling cold yet also sweating at the same time, she started walking.

Everything else—the other people, the low music, the talking and laughing around her, even Walker—all faded away as she drew a deep breath and moved like she was walking to her own execution. Because this was going to be hard. Shelly had been the first positive female role model in her life. She’d made Maze cookies, let her use every freaking sheet and blanket in the house to build forts for Michael and Heather, coaxed her into participating in family events, and expected her to be civilized, all while cocooning her in safety and unconditional love. She’d single-handedly turned Maze from a feral, lost kid into a real person.