The Forever Girl Read online

  Cat looked at her, searched her gaze, and then nodded in accord. And not thirty minutes later, they were at the graveyard, drinking champagne straight out of the bottle with Michael.

  Chapter 25

  Walker’s instincts were usually dead-on, so when he woke up with a feeling that the day wasn’t going to go as planned, he took it as gospel. Which meant that several hours later, standing at the back of the wedding aisle with two hundred people seated and waiting for the procession to start, and with no maid of honor or bride in sight, it wasn’t a huge surprise.

  He watched, along with all the other wedding guests, as in the front row, Dillon’s mom stood up and brought Dillon his phone.

  Dillon listened, said something quietly, then handed the phone back to his mom. He held up a finger to the crowd and came back down the aisle to Walker. “Caitlin’s not coming.” He paused. “Do you think the roses were the final tipping point?”

  “No,” Walker said, “I don’t think it was the roses.”

  “My mom?”

  “Getting warmer.”

  Dillon nodded and looked away. “My last fiancé said it was me. That I don’t listen. That I railroad people to get what I want.”

  Dillon’s mother came down the aisle. “What’s happening? We’re late starting.” She looked at Walker. “Where is she? And the other one, the one with the bad attitude. Go get them.” Then, before Walker could respond, she stormed off.

  Because Caitlin had planned to walk herself down the aisle to be greeted by both parents before turning to Dillon, Jim and Sherry were seated in the front row. Walker made eye contact with them, and both stood up as if to come over. He gestured that he had this, and they sat back down. With a deep breath, he headed to the bride’s chambers. When no one answered his knock, he let himself in. The room looked like a cyclone had hit, but it was empty. The window was open, and, more telling, the flowers in the window planter box were crushed, and there was a piece of torn silk on a nail on the windowsill.

  He turned in a slow circle and froze when his gaze landed on the mirror.

  I’M SORRY

  He actually staggered back a step, instantly transported to a certain morning in Vegas, when he’d found a note with the same message. His chest actually hurt and he rubbed it. Logically he knew this wasn’t about him, but there was nothing logical about the road his brain had just gone down.

  He pulled out his phone.

  No messages.

  He called Maze, but her phone was either dead or off, and that’s when he knew the real reason for the way his gut had turned itself inside out. It wasn’t just Caitlin on the run. He couldn’t explain it, but deep inside, he knew. Maze was on the run too.

  Again.

  And he knew why. Over the past week, they’d connected on a level deeper than they ever had, and he’d forgotten to hold back, to keep himself from opening up to her. Instead, he’d told himself when and if Maze got cold feet and wanted to run, they’d run together.

  He’d been an idiot.

  His mission had been simple: get the divorce. But he should’ve known that nothing was ever simple with Maze. Now the mission had gone FUBAR, and he was back at square one, grieving her all over again.

  But hell if he’d do it.

  He strode out of the room. Jace and Heather both looked at him and he gave a very slight head shake. There’d been a low-level hum of quiet talking among the guests, but at the sight of him, all two hundred went silent. One hundred and ninety-eight of them he couldn’t care less about. Walking straight to Shelly and Jim, he crouched down and took Shelly’s hand. “Cat’s not coming,” he said quietly.

  Whatever he’d expected, it hadn’t been for them both to smile. “We know,” Shelly whispered. “She texted.”

  Jace came over. “What can I do?”

  “Take Heather and Sammie home,” Walker said.

  Shelly stood up and grabbed Walker’s hand before he could turn to go talk to Dillon. “The cake.”

  “The cake?”

  “I swapped it out for the carrot cake Caitlin wanted. I want that cake, Walker.”

  “Then I’ll make sure you get it.” He looked at Jim. “You’ve got her?”

  “Absolutely, son.” He squeezed Walker’s shoulder. “You got our girl?”

  “Absolutely,” Walker said grimly. He turned and came face-to-face with Dillon.

  “So . . . I guess we should tell people,” Dillon said, looking like he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

  Walker knew how he felt. He knew because something not so unlike this had happened to him, which was almost enough to make him feel bad for the guy.

  “My mom’s going to blow a gasket,” Dillon said.

  “Listen,” Walker said, “I’m going to offer some advice you didn’t ask for. I didn’t know my mom, so I can’t say how I’d react if she walked all over my life at every turn, but I can say that the woman you loved enough to ask to marry you should probably be higher up on the totem pole than your mom.”

  Dillon closed his eyes and nodded. “Getting that.”

  “You need to make the announcement.”

  “No. I can’t. I’ve gotta get out of here,” Dillon said, and spun on a heel and left.

  Walker looked out at the waiting guests and rubbed his jaw. Shit. He moved to where the officiant stood in front of the microphone, looking shell-shocked. He leaned toward the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry, but love’s not going to happen here today.”

  Not for anyone . . .

  MAZE WATCHED CAITLIN take a long pull on her bottle of champagne. “You should eat something,” she warned. “Or you’re going to get drunk.”

  “Too late,” Caitlin said, and let out an involuntary hiccup. She covered her mouth and giggled and hiccupped again. “You should join me.”

  “I’m your DD.” Maze was having a serious moment of fear and regret, because everyone was going to think this was all her fault. But really, what could she have done differently? She wasn’t about to advocate for a marriage that Caitlin clearly didn’t want. Yes, she could’ve made the decision sooner, but who was Maze to judge?

  Cat looked down at herself. “Seriously, these boobs are far more trouble than they’re worth. Kind of like men.”

  “Well, I’ve had a serious shortage of both, so I wouldn’t know.”

  “You’ve got a good guy now,” Cat said.

  Maze felt a smile cross her face at the thought of Walker. For the first time, she believed in this thing between them and that it could actually work. Even more shocking, she realized her worries and fears about how much she felt for him had gone, leaving a huge warm glow in her chest for him. God, she was so sappy. She closed her eyes, remembering the peek she’d gotten of him in his dark navy suit earlier, looking good enough to eat.

  “I know love’s never worked out for you before,” Cat said, “but this time it will.” She emphasized her words with a little wave of one of the champagne bottles and fell over. She stayed down, staring up at the sky. “You’ve got a real shot at something, Maze, something real. I promise you it’ll work out.”

  “I don’t need promises. Promises aren’t real.”

  Caitlin shook her head, getting grass in her lovely updo that was no longer all up but half in her face. She blew a few strands out of her eyes and turned her head to point at Maze. “I’ve never broken a promise to you, not once.”

  Maze looked down at this woman who was one of the most important people in her entire life. No matter how long they went without speaking, it didn’t matter. Nothing would change; Caitlin would always be there for her, and she would always be there for Caitlin, no questions asked. “It’s true, you’ve never broken a promise to me.”

  “Damn right.” Caitlin fought to try to right herself and ended up just bicycling her hands and legs in the air. “Dammit!” She gave up and flopped back. “You’ve been the best friend and the best sister I could hope for. I mean, I dragged you into staying this whole week and you never even c
omplained.”

  “Oh, I complained.”

  “Okay, maybe a little,” Caitlin said with a rough laugh. “For a minute. But then you dug in, took my hand, and walked me through everything. Every single thing. You did whatever had to be done, even if it meant facing your past, like Walker, and my parents. You were there for me, Maze. Just like when you first lived with us and I needed someone to love. You let me love you.”

  “Well, it’s not like you gave me much of a choice,” Maze muttered, uncomfortable with the praise.

  Cat laughed at her. “Stop making it weird. You’re my person, Maze. And . . . shit. Where was I going with this? Oh!” She rolled to her hands and knees and finally managed to sit up, legs crossed, hair wild, boobs bulging. “Promises. I don’t break promises.”

  “Um, this might be a bad time to bring this up, but you just walked away from a pretty big promise.”

  “Nope. I promised to get married today, and I am getting married today.”

  Maze laughed. “Once again, I’m already taken. And plus, nothing personal, but you don’t have the equipment I usually prefer.”

  “Good thing then that I’m my type!” Caitlin said exuberantly, waving the champagne for emphasis. “I’m marrying myself!” Still sitting on the grass looking like a hot mess, she wrapped a blade of grass around her ring finger. “I, Caitlin Walsh, promise to love, cherish, and never obey myself! I promise to always eat a chocolate chip cookie before bedtime and to be there for myself through thick and thin.”

  “Just a chocolate chip cookie? Like a single cookie?”

  “Yeah, don’t you remember?” Cat asked. “When we’d sneak them late at night?”

  “Oh, I remember. But we always ate more than one.”

  Caitlin sighed. “That was before I gave up carbs to fit into that dress you’re wearing. I wish I could get Mom to give me that recipe.”

  “First, be honest. You never gave up carbs. Nor should you. Carbs make the world go round. And also, I have the recipe if you want it.”

  Caitlin stared at her, mouth open. “You have the recipe? How? Mom never gives it to anyone.”

  Maze shrugged. “She gave it to me that summer we all stayed at the lake. I think because it’s supposedly so foolproof that even I can make them.” She paused. “Well, probably. I never actually tried. And honestly, I don’t think she’d be surprised by that. She just wanted me to have it in case, because . . .” Maze felt herself get choked up. “Because she had more faith in me than I had in myself.”

  “Oh my God. She does like you better!”

  “But I like you better,” Maze said softly.

  Caitlin gave her a drunken smile. “No, I like you better.” And with that, she fell onto her back again and stared up at something that made her frown. “Uh-oh.”

  Maze lay back as well and peered up to see what Caitlin had seen and sucked in a breath. Uh-oh was right.

  An upside-down Walker was staring down at the both of them, face quietly intense, mouth grim.

  Caitlin pointed at him. “You’re upside down.”

  “And you’re MIA.”

  Caitlin sat up and took another swig from her bottle. “I’m not marrying Dillon today.”

  “No shit,” Walker said. “And what the hell are you wearing?”

  Caitlin looked down at herself in Maze’s bridesmaid dress. “We switched.”

  Walker turned his attention to Maze, and she felt herself smile helplessly at him. “Hi.”

  He just stared down at her, hands on hips, taking in the disaster that was her: the sweater that had fallen open, revealing the wedding dress split to her belly button; her lack of shoes and her undoubtedly crazy hair. “I know,” she said. “Impressive, right? Like you can’t wait for more of this?”

  He didn’t smile. He didn’t blink. And when he turned back to Caitlin without a word to her, her smile faded.

  Caitlin offered Walker her nearly empty bottle of champagne. “I know it’s really annoying to be around a very slightly tipsy person if you’re not imbibing, so—”

  “Do you want to know what’s really annoying?” he asked, not taking the bottle. “When you have to tell two hundred strangers expecting a wedding that the bride went AWOL.”

  “I just married myself to myself.”

  “Congratulations,” he said, sounding unimpressed.

  Caitlin frowned. “That’s your mad voice.”

  He blew out a breath. “I didn’t know where either of you were, if you were okay.” He paused and looked right into Maze’s eyes. “Or if I’d ever hear from you again.”

  “Cat texted you,” Maze said.

  “No, she didn’t.”

  Maze looked at Cat.

  Cat gasped. “Oh my God. I forgot to text you and Heather! I’m so sorry!” And then she burst into tears.

  Maze didn’t cry. She was . . . stunned. Shaken. Guilty. Because Walker overreacting wasn’t Caitlin’s fault. It was hers. She was the one who’d left him behind all those years before, and she was starting to get that he’d believed she was doing a wash and repeat here today. That she’d walked away from him. “Walk—”

  Sending her a fulminating look, he turned his back on her and crouched down at Caitlin’s side. “Don’t cry, Cat.”

  “But you’re mad at me,” she sobbed. “You think I made a rash decision.”

  “No,” he said. “The rash decision was to go through with this when your instincts told you not to. And then to run away from the problem, which isn’t like you.” Again, he was looking right at Maze, and you know what? She was starting to get pissed off.

  Cat dropped her forehead to Walker’s shoulder. “I panicked.”

  “Love makes us stupid,” Walker said.

  Cat choked out a laugh and sniffed.

  “Did you just wipe your face on my shirt?”

  “Yes,” she said soggily. “I ruined my life!”

  He sighed and ran a hand up and down her back, pressing his jaw to the top of her head. “No, you didn’t. You protected it. It’s going to be okay, Cat. You know that, right? It’s all going to be okay.”

  Watching him comfort Cat gave Maze a pang so deep it hurt her soul. It wasn’t jealousy. She wasn’t worried that Cat and Walker would take up with each other. Their bond was as family, and it was real.

  The pang was . . . yearning. Because she could only wish love came as easily to her as it did for them. Watching them, listening to Walker talk to Cat in that low, steady voice of his, reassuring her . . . she wished she could be more like that, so sure and steady in his feelings, not ashamed of having emotions, and certainly not willing to bury them.

  So. There she had it. She was jealous after all. Jealous of their ability to be human, to believe in love blindly.

  Caitlin finally lifted her head and sniffed. “What did Dillon’s mom say? Did she freak out? Did she take all the roses home with her?”

  “I was too busy worrying about you two to notice anything else. If you were okay or”—again he looked at Maze—“ever coming back.”

  Caitlin looked at Maze and grimaced. “Okay . . .” She pushed to her feet. “I think that’s my cue to give you two a moment to talk. I’ll get an Uber.”

  “Jace is in the parking lot waiting to drive you home,” Walker said.

  “I don’t wanna go home,” Cat said. “I want to go to the Whiskey River and celebrate marrying myself.”

  “Jace will drive you wherever you want to go,” Walker said.

  Cat bent and kissed the top of his head, then staggered off, holding up the tattered hem of the bridesmaid dress like she was royalty.

  Awkward silence descended.

  Maze tried to wait Walker out, but waiting had never been her strong suit. “So . . .”

  Walker said nothing.

  “Are you ever going to talk to me again?” she finally asked.

  “I hope you know what you did today,” he said. “Because even though I don’t think Dillon’s the one for Caitlin, when she sobers up, she may never for
give you.”

  “Wait.” Maze shook her head. “Back the hell up. You think this is my bad?”

  He just looked at her.

  “Wow. Okay.” She stood up to walk away, but was apparently unable to help herself from getting the last word. “I wasn’t the instigator on this.”

  “You’re always the instigator, Maze.”

  She let out an exhalation of stunned breath, hurt to the core. “Good to know what you really think of me.”

  “I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. You blow everything up and then don’t even seem to realize the damage you leave in your wake because you’re already gone, while the rest of us are left to pick up the pieces.”

  She nodded. “And . . . we’re no longer talking about the wedding.”

  “Depends on which wedding you’re referring to.”

  Another direct hit. She’d worked hard to change, and she’d thought she’d proven it. But he still saw her as that destructive girl she’d once been. “I’m no longer Mayhem Maze,” she said quietly. “I thought you knew that.”

  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.