The Summer Deal (Wildstone #5)(96)

Caitlin stood, vibrating with fury. “No. You don’t get to own this, Maze.” She began shoving everything back into her bag, her movements jerky with anger. “We all made decisions we regret that night.”

Maze was vibrating too, with sorrow and angst. “I’m not a kid anymore, Cat. You don’t have to protect me, and I don’t need your misplaced sympathy. You should hate me.”

Heather was still crying and Caitlin put her hand on her shoulder as she stared at Maze. “Is that what you want? Us to hate you?”

Okay, so she’d backed herself into a corner, and as always she was going to start swinging, taking out only herself. “Yes,” she said. “That’s what I want.”

Everyone stared at her in shock. Except Walker. He was still showing nothing.

“I refuse to believe that,” Caitlin finally said. “You’re part of this family, whether you like it or not. You can’t just run away. Love doesn’t work like that and I thought you knew it.” She nodded to Heather. “Come on, honey, let’s go wait for Mom and Dad in the parking lot.”

Maze didn’t watch them go. She closed her eyes and tried to think of something else. The ocean. Puppies. Thai takeout. But it didn’t work. She strained to hear their retreat, but they must’ve been already gone because all that came to her was the rumble of not-too-distant thunder.

Good to know she could still clear an area without even trying. Feeling sick that she’d just destroyed everything—once again—she opened her eyes and stared up at the churning, turbulent sky, which was in exact accord with her mood. Telling herself to get over it, she swiped her own tears on the hem of her shirt before reaching for her chair to try to close it. When it fought back and pinched her finger, she gave it a good kick.

A low male snort came from behind her and she froze. Why was it that Walker of all people always got to witness her most humiliating moments? Was it karma? Had she once forgotten to say thank you, or maybe very slightly cheated on her taxes? Lied about not wanting to be a part of the only family she’d ever wanted as her own?

Walker gave her a slow clap.

“Well done, Mayhem Maze.”

Rolling her eyes at the old nickname, she glared down at her chair, now upside-down on the grass but still fully opened.

When Walker reached for it, she stopped him. “No, I’ve got it,” she said, practically choking on her stubborn pride. The theme of her life, of course: being stupidly, doggedly stubborn, because being perceived as helpless or needy made her nuts.

Walker pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and eyed her. “You going to kick it again?”

“Probably.”

There was a small smile on his mouth, but not in his eyes, those sharp blue orbs that saw everything and revealed nothing. “You never change.”

Aware that this wasn’t exactly a compliment, she looked away, because facing Caitlin’s parents was nothing compared to facing Walker. Forget the chair. She needed to be anywhere but here. Even a root canal without meds would be preferable.

“Walking off for the win,” he said to her back. “Shocking.”

She whirled around. “You’re the one who’s always gone.”

“For work. Not because I’m running scared.”

A direct hit. She barely managed to get the words out. “Your work doesn’t deserve your dedication. It nearly killed you.”

“What do you care? These days all I see you is once a year, here, and you ignore me.”

“Well, I’m trying,” she said, tossing up her hands. “For all the good it’s done since you’re still right here.”

He just looked at her for a long moment, then folded her chair with annoying ease—one handed—and set the strap on her shoulder. “Always good know I still irritate the shit out of you, Maze.”

He was favoring his shoulder, and her heart hurt. “It’s time for a new job,” she said quietly. “You know that, right? At some point, you’re going to run out of your nine lives.”

He just shook his head, either at the truth of her statement or because he just didn’t want to hear her opinion. Both were entirely possible. “There are lots of other jobs,” she said. “You don’t have to put your life on the line for a paycheck.”

His smile was grim as another rumble of thunder sounded. Ignoring the rain as it started, he shook his head. “It’s what I know. I can’t jump around like you do. What is it this week, business school?”

The rain cooled her skin, but not her anger. Yes, she’d jumped around, doing a huge variety of jobs before landing on bartending while working her way through business school, but she felt she finally had it right. Not that that was any of his beeswax. “Still a total asshole, I see.”

“Maybe I just care.”

And maybe once upon a time, she’d believed that to be true. “Screw you, Walker.”

“You already did that. Didn’t work out so well for me.”

Since that was the shameful truth, she should’ve been wise and kept her mouth shut. But when had she ever been wise? “Just . . . stay the hell away from me.” Then, as she had the morning after they’d gotten hitched by an Elvis impersonator on one shockingly memorable drunken night in Vegas a few years ago, she turned and walked away.