He leaned back against the door. “Something you want to tell me?”

“Nope. Having secrets is more your thing.”

He gave her an impressive eye roll, sauntered closer, and sat at the edge of the bed near her hip.

She raised her hands in the universal what? gesture.

“There are some things I want to say.”

“Then say them and get out.”

“Yes, I kept in touch with Caitlin and Heather,” he said. “Actually, Caitlin kept tabs on me. Made me come into town for every excuse under the sun. Then she’d boss me into sticking around for a few days. Against all understanding, she loves me, treats me like I belong to her, and has expectations that go with it.” His smile faded. “Heather was different. I had to go after her and butt my way in and pretty much figure out for myself she was in trouble.”

Maze’s chest hurt thinking about Heather being alone, pregnant, scared, and in pain. “I’m glad she had you,” she said softly. “And that neither she nor Caitlin was ever really alone.”

“And like I told you last night, neither were you.”

She met his gaze.

“I always knew where you were,” he said. “When you worked on that cruise ship for one whole cruise, quitting because you were seasick the whole time. When you moved to San Jose and got a job at a new club, then punched out one of the patrons for getting handsy. When you tried San Francisco but couldn’t really find your place.”

She gaped at him. “Two years ago,” she said, “when my car died and I couldn’t afford a new one, I got cash in the mail. Two grand. That was you, wasn’t it?”

He just looked at her.

“Oh my God. It was.” Her chest felt like it was caving in on itself. “Why didn’t you just show up at my door?”

“You’d made it clear you didn’t want to see me or need my help.”

And yet he’d helped anyway. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“Because you felt obligated,” she said.

“Wrong.”

“Then what?”

“I think I’ll let you wrestle with that one.” He tossed the file with the divorce papers into her lap. “You forgot those. You need to sign them.” He glanced at the pillow on the floor and then at the closed bedroom door. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”

She chucked one of her pillows at him, but he easily ducked it.

“I wouldn’t sleep with your eyes closed if I were you,” she said.

He flashed a smile at that. “Never do.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Guilty.” He picked up her hand and studied it.

“What are you looking for?”

“A diamond. A year is a long time to be with someone. Any smart man would’ve locked it down with you by now.”

Her stomach went a little squishy. “I’m not the type of woman a guy wants to keep.”

His fingers tightened around hers. “You’re wrong about that, Maze.”

Right. She had a long history of not being good enough, and he was a big part of that history. “Go away, Walk.”

When he didn’t move fast enough to suit her, she picked up her other pillow and aimed it at him. He flashed her a grim smile and slipped out of the room before it could hit her intended target: his smug face.

Chapter 8

Maze’s updated maid of honor to-do list:

—Don’t kill the man of honor.

Maze was still awake the next morning because . . .

She.

Was.

Married?

Good God. She rolled out of bed and . . . oh yeah, tripped over her pretend boyfriend, Jace.

Her life was officially a sitcom.

“Hey,” Jace grumbled sleepily, and sat up. “There’s no acceptable reason for waking me up at . . .” He blinked at the clock. “. . . Jesus, five A.M.—unless morning sex is on the table.”

“Dream on.”

“I was dreaming just fine, thank you very much—”

A knock came at the door. Maze froze for a beat, then tore off her sweatpants, leaving her in just the oversized T-shirt and cheeky panties. “Get up here,” she demanded as she leaped back into bed. “He doesn’t believe that we’re together and I need him to.”

“Why?”

“So he won’t be able to melt my cold, hard heart. There. Are you happy?”

When Jace just looked at her in disbelief, she waved her hands frantically.

“Come on, come on!”

“You’re unhinged, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah, now get your ass up here and fake being into me. I know, I know, but just pretend I’m whoever you were dreaming about,” she said.

“I wasn’t—”

“Right. So that’s a gun in your shorts then?”

“Shit,” he muttered, getting into bed with her. “This is awkward.”

“It’s only awkward if it’s for me.”

He adjusted “it.” “Trust me, it’s not. You’re too mean.”

There was another knock and an accompanying teeny-tiny demanding voice. “Jace!”

Maze relaxed and smiled. “Sammie!” she called out, shoving Jace away from her. He was laughing so hard, he hit the floor. “Come on in, baby!”

The door opened. Sammie was bouncing up and down like the Energizer Bunny, but she wasn’t alone. Behind her was Heather in a matching pj set with little kitties on them. Her hair was wild, and a pillow crease ran across a cheek. She looked like she was twelve. “It’s a pajama party. Remember when we had those?”

Caitlin appeared next to her wearing a pretty silk robe and slippers, with perfect hair and . . .

“Are you wearing mascara already?” Maze asked in disbelief.

“Of course,” Caitlin said.

Maze laughed, but it dried up in her throat when she realized Walker was behind Cat, wearing his sweat bottoms from last night. He’d added a T-shirt from—she stopped breathing—the dive bar in Vegas where their problems had all begun.

They all came in. Walker eyed the pillow and blanket on the floor with Jace.

“Fell out of bed,” Jace said easily, and rose to his feet.

“With your blanket and pillows?” Heather asked.

“Yep.”

Maze slid her gaze to Jace’s boxer shorts as he got into bed next to her. Luckily, morning wood was no longer a problem. Good thing too, because before she knew it everyone was on the bed—except Walker. He walked slowly into the room, purposely eyeing the pillow and blanket on the floor before meeting Maze’s eyes.

Dammit.

She was now sandwiched in between Heather and Caitlin, with Jace at her feet and Sammie trying to climb on top of him, but for a second, all that craziness faded away. It was only her and Walker in the room, which both gave her a secret thrill and pissed her off.

“Up!” Sammie yelled at Walker.

“Yeah,” Heather said to him, patting a corner of Maze’s bed. “Up.”

“I’m good.” But he scooped up Sammie and, to her screaming delight, hung her upside down off the back of his shoulders. Then he playfully tossed her to the bed. She bounced and squealed and gave a sweet belly laugh. Caitlin leaned in to tickle her . . . and Sammie stopped laughing and gave her a deadpan look.