The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(97)

He turned to Michael’s grave, a muscle clenching in his jaw. “You’re still trouble with a capital T. You left a note on the mirror with nothing more than an ‘I’m sorry.’ Do you have any idea what that reminded me of? What it felt like to be stupid for a second time when it came to you?”

“Walker—”

“Don’t, Maze.”

“Are you serious?”

“Very,” he said. “I can’t talk to you right now.”

Well, tough shit. She stepped between him and Michael’s gravestone. “Look, you’re right, okay? I didn’t think about how you’d feel seeing the note.”

He shook his head. “There’s the problem, Maze. You don’t think. And words are cheap.”

“Not these words. I really am sorry, Walker.”

He didn’t move an inch. Only his eyes slid from Michael’s gravestone to hers.

She blew out a breath. “Seriously. Why are you being such a hard-ass about this?”

“Because I’m tired of being the idiot standing there by myself while others walk away from me. This time, I walk away.”

And that’s just what he did.





Chapter 26


When Walker got to the parking lot, he realized Jace and Heather were still parked and getting Caitlin into the car. Pulling out his phone, he turned and started walking in the opposite direction as he called Heather.

“Hey,” she said. “Where are you?”

“Change in plans. Wait for Maze so you can caravan back to the house together.”

“Sure, but where are you—”

“I’ve got a ride. Take care of them, okay?”

“Of course,” she said. “Walker—”

“Gotta go.” He disconnected the call.

Yeah, it was a dick move, but he needed a few moments. Probably more than a few.

He got an Uber to his car and then headed to the Whiskey River, where he found Boomer sitting at a high-top table swearing at his laptop.

“You know,” Boomer said in disgust, “just once I want a user name and password prompt to say ‘close enough.’” He looked up. “Interesting wedding.”

“Yeah.” Walker helped himself behind the bar, grabbing two water bottles.

“Practicing for when you buy this place from me?” Boomer asked hopefully as he accepted one of the bottles.

“Right now?” Walker sat across from him. “Just working on surviving.”

Boomer clinked his bottle to Walker’s. “I’ll toast to that.” He drank and then cocked his head. “You looked messed up.”

Walker lifted his first finger and thumb about an inch apart, and Boomer laughed.

“Let me guess. Woman problems.”

“How did you know?”

“Because only a woman could put that look on a man’s face. Been there, man.”

“Yeah?” Walker took a long pull of his beer. “You ever get messed up by the same woman twice?”

Boomer laughed long and hard over that. “There’s only ever really been one for me, and she’s messed me up so many times I’ve lost count. Still married her, though.” He shrugged. “The heart wants what it wants, and at the end of the day, no matter how much of polar opposites we are, no matter how crazy we drive each other, the love never fades.”

The love never fades . . .

Walker was still thinking about that an hour later when he ended up back at Caitlin’s cabin. He had no idea what he was do ing or why he’d lost his shit over a note from Maze that hadn’t even been directed at him.

Okay, so that was a lie, because he did know why, and it was called fear. The same old fear that lived deep inside him, eating at everything good in his life. The fear that he was easy to walk away from.

He let himself into the house and instantly knew it was empty. He pulled out his phone and once again called Heather.

“I’ve got Caitlin, no worries,” Heather said in lieu of a greeting. “Dillon took their honeymoon without her, so she and Jace and Sammie and I are having takeout on Avila Beach and pretending it’s Bali. Join us?”

“Where’s Maze?”

She hesitated.

“Heather.”

“She left.”

He couldn’t say he was surprised. She’d been compelled to leave—by him. That was the thing about fears. You could use them against yourself to make them actually come true. And he didn’t see a way to change that.

Two hours later he was on a late-night red-eye heading east. Getting back to work was what he needed. Real life was what he needed. It was how he’d always lived, in the present. When one assignment was over, he had always needed to move on to the next as fast as possible, taking control of his future in a way he’d never been able to do in his past. It was a good, solid decision. He needed to make more of those.

He made it back to D.C. and handled his reentry into “real life” by doing what he always did after a rough case at work: he slept, losing all day Sunday.

Monday morning, he hit the ground running, getting into the office just as his team’s morning meeting was starting up.

Red, his boss, gave him a long side-eye but didn’t say a word as Walker dropped into a chair waiting for his orders. After addressing everyone else but Walker, Red cleared the room. “You look like shit.”