The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(88)

“It’s the groom’s family who plans the actual dinner part of the rehearsal dinner,” Caitlin said tightly. “I have no control over that, nor do I have any illusions of ever having control over her.”

Shelly turned to the table just behind them, the bride’s family table, and pointed to the gorgeous bouquet of wildflowers in the center. “I wrapped the stems with the ribbons from the gifts you got at your work friends’ shower last month. Thought you could walk down the aisle with that as your bouquet tonight.”

“Mom,” Caitlin said, looking undone, “how did you know?”

Shelly looked at Maze. “A little birdie told me.”

Caitlin’s eyes filled again as she looked at Maze. “You called her?”

“Texted,” Maze admitted, and found herself in another tight Caitlin hug. She thumped dramatically on Caitlin’s back. “Can’t. Breathe.”

“Shut up and love me.”

“I do,” Maze said, and sighed when Caitlin laughed.

“Can we do the run-through now?” Maze asked, desperate to get out of more hugs.

Thankfully, the wedding officiant waved her hands for everyone to gather around.

Walker pulled Maze back by the hand and looked into her eyes. “Proud of you,” he said quietly. “I know that was hard.”

“Almost as hard as letting you win the swim race to shore a few days ago.”

He laughed. “I won that fair and square and you know it. Which reminds me, you still owe me twenty-four hours of servitude.”

“Dream on,” she said, even as her body quivered. “And haven’t you learned by now a woman’s always right?”

He smiled. “You are right.” He lowered his head and kissed her. “Actually, you’re more than right. You’re perfect.”

She’d never been anything close to perfect a single day in her life. But hell if she was going to be the one to fill him in, so she tugged his face down for another kiss.

“We need the maid of honor at the back of the aisle to line everyone up in the bride’s preferred order,” the officiant said.

“Give them another minute,” Shelly said. “This was a long time coming.”

Maze jumped back guiltily, but Walker was much slower to drop his hands from her, not seeming guilty in the slightest. He smiled at Shelly.

Shelly beamed back. Everyone beamed at them, and while Maze was not ashamed of what she’d found with Walker this week, she’d barely just admitted to herself that they had something at all, so she sure as hell wasn’t exactly ready to have the whole world know about it.

And yet . . . no one was looking shocked. Instead, they all seemed happy. She tried not to panic about that, about knowing they now all had expectations, when the truth was no relationship had ever worked out for her, not once. Panic later, she decided, and she pulled out her iPad to access her notes. “Okay,” she called out. “Heather lines up with Walker, and I line up with . . . Dillon’s childhood BFF, Eddie.”

Caitlin gasped. “Oh no! I forgot! He got sick and missed his flight.” She turned in horror to Dillon. “I didn’t even think about how that’d affect the wedding processional.”

Dillon shrugged. “Maybe Maze can walk by herself?”

“Of course not!” Caitlin whipped around and surveyed her group of friends and family. “You,” she said, pointing to Jace. “You’ve just been upgraded from Maze’s plus-one to someone Dillon can’t live without in his group of groomsmen. You’ll walk Heather down the aisle.”

“But Walker’s walking Heather down the aisle,” Maze said, staring at her screen.

“No, Walker’s walking you down the aisle,” Caitlin said. “It’s perfect.”

There was that word again.

“Remember,” Dillon’s mom said from the sidelines. “Step, pause, step, pause. Rushing is undignified.”

Maze thought undignified was trying to stage a coup and take over the wedding, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Not successfully, apparently, because at her side, Walker laughed low in his throat. “Easy,” he said. “Too many witnesses.”

Her heart fluttered, because he not only knew her to the very depths of her soul, he also understood her. Two minutes later, she walked down the aisle with the evening’s wind blowing in her hair and Walker at her side, sure and strong and steady, looking like the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Sammie was next. She had a little basket of flower petals. She started to run down the aisle, but Jace laughingly intercepted her, crouching down to her level. “Okay, so remember last weekend on the TV when we were watching a little football?” he asked. “Here’s our play. You’re going to take the ball—in this case the basket—and walk it straight up the field to make the touchdown. Got it?”

Sammie grinned and nodded.

They started the music again, and Sammie turned to Cat.

Cat smiled tentatively, obviously prepared to be rebuked by the toddler, but Sammie didn’t do her usual deadpan stare. Instead she threw her short little arms around Caitlin’s legs.

Cat’s eyes filled and she squatted down and hugged Sammie. “Thank you, baby.”

“I three.” But she grinned, wriggled free, then did just as Jace told her. She walked the basket up the aisle . . . and slammed it down to the grass. Then she executed a sweet little touchdown dance, complete with a case of the giggles.