The Forever Girl Page 3

  And yet she was now so unnecessary that Heather had gotten pregnant and had a baby without a word. Feeling like she’d just been hit by a freight train, she swallowed hard. “Is Sammie’s daddy coming too?”

  “No.” Heather reached back into the car for a duffel bag, which she slung over her shoulder. Her jeans were torn in a few spots, and not by design. The rest of her clothing seemed ragged too, and now that the shock was wearing off, Caitlin noticed that Heather’s face was wan and tight, and it made her heart hurt. “You’re . . . on your own? No baby daddy?”

  Something crossed Heather’s face. Pride. “We’re not together, but we’re friends and he helps. I’m good, Cat.”

  “But—”

  Heather’s smile fell. “Please, can we save the twenty questions thing for later? I’m working on zero sleep and enough stress to take down a buffalo. If I lose it now, I’ll never find it again.”

  “Sure,” Caitlin managed, trying not to take offense, because she did always ask way too many questions, but how was she supposed to help herself? These were her people and she wanted them back. Shelving that for the moment, she smiled at Sammie.

  Sammie stared at her with the biggest brown eyes she’d ever seen, but didn’t return the smile.

  Caitlin tried another smile, because seriously, everyone liked her, even cats, which, along with roses, she was allergic to. Being liked was kind of her thing.

  But Sammie’s deadpan expression never changed.

  “Don’t take it personally,” Heather said. “She’s just super shy. Probably because it’s been just her and me.”

  Caitlin had a million questions, starting with why, if the baby daddy was around, had it been just Heather and Sammie? And also, why hadn’t it been Cat and Heather and Sammie? But just then another car pulled up the driveway. She and Heather turned in unison, but Caitlin was pretty sure she was the only one whose heart was suddenly threatening to explode from her chest, because Maze was getting out of the passenger seat, followed by a guy from behind the wheel. He reached for Maze’s hand and smiled down at her. “Ready, sweetness?”

  Maze’s gaze had locked on Caitlin, face grim. “As I’ll ever be.”

  “Hey,” Caitlin called out. “Weddings are fun, dammit!”

  Maze’s mouth twitched, but her eyes remained wary . . . and nervous, Caitlin realized, which softened her in a big way. Of all of them, Maze was the toughest nut to crack, even more so than Walker, and that was saying something because she was pretty sure Walker had been born and immediately dipped in Kevlar.

  “Okay,” she said. “So weddings aren’t always fun, but mine will be.”

  Next to her, Heather gave a low laugh. “She decrees it so.”

  Maze smiled at that and walked up to them, stopping in front of Caitlin.

  “Hi,” Caitlin said softly.

  “Hi,” Maze said back, just as softly.

  “Good to see you.”

  “Same.”

  “You brought a guy,” Caitlin said.

  “If you’ll remember, you demanded I do so. You said, and I quote, ‘Don’t you dare show up without your boyfriend.’”

  “Yeah, but that was a few months ago. You don’t have relationships that last weeks, let alone months.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.” Maze turned and hugged Heather before coming back to Caitlin.

  “Are we okay?” Caitlin asked quietly.

  “As okay as we ever are.”

  “That’s not saying much.”

  Maze touched her finger to the tip of her nose and then sighed dramatically when Caitlin could no longer stop herself and pulled her in for a tight hug.

  “Don’t waste your energy trying to escape,” Heather said. “Just give in. It’s easier, trust me.”

  Maze gave a small laugh, relaxed against Caitlin, and finally hugged her back.

  And since that was what Caitlin had been waiting on, she let go. “See, was that so bad?” She looked up at Maze’s boyfriend, whom she knew nothing about. Getting info out of Maze was harder than infiltrating the CIA.

  “Hi,” he said with an affable smile as he held out a hand. “I’m Jace.”

  He was tall, lanky, good-looking, and at ease, which gave him brownie points. Clearly, he didn’t yet realize he’d just joined the circus.

  “I’m Caitlin,” she said, “and this is Heather and Sammie.”

  Jace turned to little Sammie and gave her a big grin.

  She gave him a big, sticky-looking grin back and held out her arms, the universal demand for up.

  Caitlin blinked in surprise.

  So did Heather.

  Without missing a beat, Jace obliged Sammie and scooped her up, making her giggle and adding about a bazillion points to his pro column. He bounced Sammie a few times and poked her in the belly, making her giggle some more, and the sweet baby laughter made Caitlin’s ovaries turn over and weep.

  So did the sight of Dillon’s BMW turning the corner. He’d hurried and returned, just like he’d told her he would, and gratitude and affection filled her. She smiled and waved, and he waved back . . . and then pulled into the garage, shutting the door behind him and going directly inside without coming out to be introduced.

  And just like that, Caitlin’s anxiety was back. “So.” She gave her best pageant smile. “Who needs a drink?”

  Chapter 2

  Maze’s to-do list:

  —Remember to zip your mouth instead of run it. Sometimes it’s okay to just shh . . .

  Maze had lots of pleasure buttons. Skinny-dipping. Off-roading just a little too fast. Online shopping. Romance novels. But nowhere on that list were reunions or weddings, so this had potential disaster written all over it—from a personal standpoint anyway.

  And then there was the fact that she was back in Wildstone. If anyone ever asked what she’d thought of her time in the small California beach and ranching community, she’d have said it was a good place to grow up.

  In truth, it was the best place to grow up and the only place she’d ever considered home.

  So coming back was . . . hard. But this was about Cat, not her. Not that that stopped her from jumping on Cat’s offer of a drink.

  And despite everything, damn, it was good to see Heather and Cat’s bossy-ass self. So good. But she’d stayed away on purpose, and even after ten minutes she knew leaving again on Sunday would kill her.

  Jace handed Sammie back to Heather and took Maze’s hand like a loving boyfriend as they moved toward the cabin. He leaned in. “You do realize you could scare the devil himself with that fake smile, right?”

  Shit. She shook herself and tried again, curving her lips, trying to will a smile into her eyes. “Better?”

  “Sure. For filming a horror flick.”

  She rolled her eyes and made him laugh. And in turn, his laugh made her smile, a real one this time. They both lived in Santa Barbara, Jace in a small boutique hotel he also owned and ran, Maze in a teeny-tiny studio apartment just outside of town—because she liked to be close to everything she needed, but not too close.

  She really did like Jace—as a friend and also as her boss, since she worked as a bartender in his hotel. There was a lot of genuine affection between them, but happily absolutely zero chemistry, which had allowed a real friendship to take hold, rare for Maze. She didn’t like to let people in. Jace was one of the few.

  His own bad luck, because when Caitlin had asked Maze if she’d be bringing a date to the wedding, she’d stupidly made up a boyfriend. Since in reality, she hadn’t had a date in too long to remember, and since Jace had recently been dumped by his last girlfriend for being “too nice,” Maze had recruited him for the role.

  “Better,” he said about her so-called smile. “Now you just look like you’re in the mood to kill only puppies, not the whole planet. So . . .” He looked around, taking in the lake, the cabin, the rolling hills all around them. “Where is he?”

  “He who?”

  He gave her a come on look. “You know who. The
one you wanted to see me be especially attentive to you.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “It was implied in your utter desperation to get me here.”

  Hard to argue the truth. Harder still to admit the truth, that she was indeed hoping to show off in front of Walker, making sure he knew he no longer mattered to her.

  A lie, of course. But she no longer mattered to him, and her pride—the big, fat ball of it stuck in her chest—would allow nothing less than for her to show up here happy, successful, and unavailable.

  Lies on lies . . . But she’d always been good at digging her own grave.

  Sammie was teetering around at top speed, giggling as she tipped first one way and then the other, looking like a staggering, happy drunk. When she headed for the street instead of the front porch, Heather gasped, but Jace got there first, quickly scooping her up. “Gotcha!”

  As most females did, Sammie stared up at him dreamily. She was a total mini-Heather, and Maze shook her head in marvel. “I can’t believe you have a kid.”

  Heather shrugged and smiled. Maze recognized the smile, as it was the same as hers.

  Forced.

  Caitlin moved ahead of them to open the door, but Maze held back and eyed Heather. “You okay?”

  “Better now.” Heather watched Jace hold Sammie, keeping her safe. “It’s a lot to handle on my own.”

  “I can’t even imagine. There are days I can hardly manage taking care of myself, much less be in charge of another tiny, admittedly adorable little human.”

  Caitlin, with her catlike hearing, turned back to them. “But you didn’t have to do it alone.”

  Heather looked stricken, and Maze slipped an arm around her. “Cat,” she murmured in soft reproach.

  “I know. God . . .” Caitlin shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just wish you’d have let me help.” She softened the words with a sad smile. “I feel like we’re all strangers and I hate that. Let’s go inside.”

  The cabin was an A-frame, with big windows and a porch for a stunning lake view. Maze had been here several times before, during that year they’d spent with Caitlin’s parents in Wildstone. She hadn’t had the best of luck with foster homes up to that point, but she’d finally started to relax, knowing there would always be food if she was hungry and no one was going to yell at her.

  Or worse.

  What she remembered most about this place was Cat’s mom baking a lot of cookies in the small, cozy kitchen. She’d even tried to teach Maze to bake. That part had been an utter failure, mostly because all Maze had wanted was to eat the cookies. Well, that and spend time with Cat’s mom, which, if she was being honest, was the real prize. Her own mom had considered Maze an afterthought. There’d been a huge emotional disconnect for her own daughter, something Maze hadn’t realized she’d felt keenly until landing in the Walsh home.

  She could remember one time in particular with Cat’s mom. Maze had loved to lick the spoon when Cat’s mom made cookies, and once she’d also sneaked a lick of the bowl as well. Nothing had ever been more like her secret fantasy family life than that little act of defiance. Of course, Shelly, Cat’s mom, had caught her, head in the bowl, tongue swiping the last of the batter. Maze had frozen, deer in the headlights, certain that she’d get in trouble. And trouble for a foster kid usually meant stuffing your belongings into a trash bag and getting a one-way ride to a new place.

  But Cat’s mom had simply laughed softly, handed her a paper towel to wipe the batter from her nose, and hugged her. “Sometimes I do that too,” she’d confessed.

  The memories were some of the best of her shitty childhood, and she felt herself relaxing as Caitlin gestured them inside. From the depths of the house came a fierce snarling and snorting sound. “Oh my God,” Cat said to the unseen growlers. “Put a cork in it. We come in peace.” And with that, she swung the door open wide, revealing two teeny . . . well, it was hard to tell, actually. They looked like bowling balls with faces. Smashed-in faces.

  Caitlin glanced back with an apologetic smile. “The pugs are Dillon’s. Don’t worry, they don’t bite—unless you’re a big dog and they need to establish their dominance, aka small-man syndrome. And even then, all they can reach are ankles.”

  Heather picked up Sammie.

  A lanky, lean guy sat on the couch holding the remote, wearing plaid golf pants and a pale blue shirt, looking like he’d just walked off the cover of Golf magazine.

  “Everyone,” Caitlin said, “meet Dillon.”

  Dillon stood up. “Come here, babies,” he said to the pugs, and scooped them up, gently setting them on the couch. Then he very formally shook everyone’s hand. Maze was last, and he eyed her over their handshake. “You’re Mayhem Maze.”

  She thought she did a great job of not wincing at her old nickname, which, okay, yeah, she’d earned. Sneaking into the principal’s private bathroom and looping plastic wrap around the toilet beneath the seat (evil, okay, yes, but he’d yelled at her in front of everyone for stealing—which she hadn’t done—and called her a hoodlum, so she figured she might as well live up to the name, right?). Adding green food coloring to the water dispenser in a dentist’s reception area (she’d heard him refer to her as a typical punk-ass foster kid, and hey, there was nothing “typical” about her). Blowing up her chemistry lab volcano (accidentally, honest!) . . .

  “Guilty,” she said to Dillon.

  She figured he’d smile or say something teasingly. Instead, he remained serious as he leaned in and whispered, for her ears only, “Don’t mess this up for her, okay? The wedding’s very important to her, and she’s important to me.”

  Then he turned away and sank back to the couch and his game.

  Okaaaay. Maze let out a shaky breath and turned to the door with some half-baked idea of running for the hills, except she nearly barreled into Caitlin.

  Caitlin lifted a beautiful green plant with white flowers in a ceramic container. “Remember this? We painted this container at a ceramics class that summer, and I’ve kept the plant alive this whole time. I thought maybe after the wedding you could take it home and babysit it while I’m on my honeymoon.”

  Maze lifted her hands. “I’ve got a black thumb. I’ll kill it.”

  “In a week?”

  She thought about how quickly she’d managed to get off on the wrong foot with Caitlin’s future husband. “You’d be surprised how fast I can kill things.”

  Cat sighed and Maze felt like a jerk. Cat had offered her an olive branch. It was also a blatant attempt to make sure they saw each other again when Maze would have to give the plant back.

  “Sure,” Maze said, and took the plant. “Just don’t expect it to be alive.”

  Cat smiled. “I know you’ll do your best. That’s all I can ask.”

  Maze’s chest hurt.

  Heather had given Sammie a piece of banana, and she had it smashed in both hands as she ran around doing her staggering drunk impression again, happily chattering in baby speak. Her bright eyes landed on the pugs, now in Dillon’s lap, and she beelined straight for them with an excited scream.

  The pugs screamed back, but in alarm. Dillon cuddled them in close. “Caitlin.”

  Sammie kept coming at him.

  “The couch is linen,” Dillon said to the little girl.

  “It’s okay,” Caitlin told him. “I bought Tide pens at Costco.”

  Dillon frowned, but Jace snagged Sammie before she executed her destroy-the-couch mission. “Hey, you. Let’s go wash your hands while your mama sits down and puts her feet up.”

  Heather looked at him like he was the god of all men. “You’ve got the best boyfriend on the planet,” she whispered to Maze. Maze thought she managed to hide her grimace, but Heather cocked her head. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Heather nodded, but she still studied Maze for a long beat. Without Michael, Heather was the youngest and the most intuitive. “So. Santa Barbara? How do you like living there versus Wildstone?”

  Wil
dstone had been . . . well, home. But Santa Barbara worked. It was warm, not too small a town, but not too big either, and being sandwiched between the Pacific Ocean and beautiful rolling hills made it feel familiar and deceptively safe. She had a good job and an even better boss. She had friends, both on the job and in the building where she lived. She dated. Sometimes. Okay, so she didn’t tend to date the same guy more than a few times, but she found herself reluctant to form close ties, especially since apparently she had never really learned how to do that successfully.

  But she was fine, even happy. Or happy enough, anyway. She spent her free time volunteering at a women’s shelter, mostly just cleaning and doing whatever needed to be done, but it gave her a sense of something she’d never had before—that she was worthy enough to be able to give something back.

  She liked that. A lot.

  She was also going to school online at night. All of it added up to an almost very full life, and it was . . . nice. Really nice. Definitely a quieter life than she’d ever imagined for herself, but fulfilling.

  Well, it had felt like it was fulfilling, until she’d stepped foot in here again.

  “Love it,” she said.

  “Hmm,” Heather said. “You do realize that I know your trying-to-pull-one-over-on-me smile. I also know you still think of me as the baby here. But trust me, I’ve grown up fast these past few years. Also, I’ve missed you like hell. I’m not going to push you, but I’m here if you ever want to talk.” She paused, eyes on Maze. “Please want to talk. I really did miss you, and frankly, I need my big sister back in my life.”

  A gut punch. And a heart punch. “I should’ve—”

  Heather shook her head. “I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty. Or maybe I did. Did it work?”

  Maze let out a rough laugh, feeling a little bit lucky that the front door opened just then.