“What? Scare him off women entirely?” she asked dryly, pretending her heart wasn’t pounding.

“No,” Caitlin said, not joking. “You’d soften him.”

Maze snorted, because she could attest to the fact that there wasn’t any softness to Walker, not a single inch of his leanly muscled bod. The man was a rock.

Inside and out.

“You know what I mean,” Caitlin said earnestly. “He’s always had a soft spot for you. Different from what he feels for me or Heather. He takes care of the two of us. But with you, he . . .” She shook her head, smiled. “It’s like he admires your strength and knows he can stand at your side. He doesn’t have to watch your back all the time, he can just . . . enjoy you. If that makes sense.”

If that had been true, he’d never have let her go. But he had. “You’re wrong.”

“Maybe,” Caitlin replied in a tone that said she didn’t believe that for a hot second.

“Pick another question,” Maze said flatly.

Caitlin nodded so easily that Maze felt certain she’d been tricked.

“I was thinking,” Caitlin said, “maybe while you’re here, you could stay . . . open. Like really open. And don’t even bother looking at me like I’ve just suggested a gyno exam in the middle of Main Street. You know what I mean by open.”

Yes, but she wished she didn’t. “That’s not a question.”

“Will you stay open? Just for the week?” Caitlin asked. “And thank you. It’s a lovely present. I won’t even regift it.”

“How about this?” Maze asked. “I will if you will.”

Some of Cat’s smugness left. “Maze—”

“I will if you will,” she repeated softly, and Cat slowly nodded.

Chapter 9

Maze’s maid of honor to-do list:

—Call the caterer to add alcohol for the bride’s dressing room ahead of the ceremony.

That night, Maze didn’t have a nightmare, but she did have one hell of a weird dream. Elvis was chasing her around the lake, and she was in a wedding dress. She sat straight up in bed with a horrified laugh. It was certainly an improvement over her last nightmare, but no thank you.

It was still dark. A glance at the clock told her it was four thirty in the morning. What the heck? She peeked over the side of the bed, but Jace was out like a light. So she stepped over him, stole the sweats he’d left on the floor, and left. In the hallway, she paused in front of Walker’s room. His door was ajar, so she took a peek.

He lay on his back in the center of the bed, breathing steadily and evenly. She knocked lightly on the doorjamb, but he didn’t move. Biting her lower lip, she squeezed in and shut the door behind her. “Hey,” she whispered.

Nothing. The sheet was pooled dangerously low on his hips, revealing a mouthwatering chest and abs that she suddenly wanted to lick.

“Walk.” This time she added a poke to his chest.

“Shh. He’s sleeping,” he murmured.

“It’s almost morning.”

He cracked an eye and looked at her before smiling. “You’re right. We should hurry. Come here.” And he lifted the sheet in open invitation.

He wasn’t wearing anything except testosterone and pheromones, and her heart stopped. “Oh my God.”

“It bodes well for me that you’re already saying ‘oh my God.’ But I’m going to need you to lose your boyfriend’s sweats first.”

“You and I are not going to—” She drew in a deep breath. How did he always derail her? “I’m only here to tell you that I’m going to sign the papers.”

He paused a beat. “Okay.”

“I just haven’t yet because I want to read through them first.”

“Don’t worry. I’m still leaving my vinyl collection to you.”

“You think this is funny?” she asked in disbelief.

“Your reaction to it is.”

“You know what? I’m going now. People are going to hear us.”

“They’re not awake. They’re lucky enough to be sleeping.”

She turned to go, but he caught her, wrapping his fingers around her wrist. His eyes were open but heavy lidded, his jaw beyond a five o’clock shadow, mouth almost curved. “You’re up before dawn. What am I missing?”

“Nothing.”

He sat up with a frown. “Did you have another nightmare?”

“Yes. Elvis was chasing me around the lake.” She left off the part where she’d been in a wedding dress because that was just too embarrassing.

“Want me to make you forget about the dream?”

“No!” her mouth said, but her other body parts quivered and cried, Yes! “I’m going now because we don’t want anyone to see me and think I’m making the walk of shame back to my room.”

“We don’t?”

“No, because right now no one knows about Vegas. And if we keep it quiet, no one will ever have to know.”

He studied her for a long beat. “And that would bother you, if anyone knew.”

“Yes!”

He let go of her and slid out of bed. Naked. He walked to a duffel bag on a chair, where he took his time pulling on a pair of jeans over a world-class ass.

No underwear.

The denim looked soft and well worn. He grabbed a shirt next, covering up that scrumptious body. When he caught her staring, his lips twitched.

“What?” she asked. “I like to look.”

“Good to know. The ball’s in your court, tough girl. On both counts.” Then he headed toward the door.

“Wait. What does that mean, ‘on both counts’?”

He gave her a long look, smiled . . . and walked out of the room.

Tossing up her hands, she went back to her room. Jace was gone. She climbed into bed and was just closing her eyes when Jace came back, showered and fully dressed. “Sleep well?” he asked.

The question and his tone were mild, but she studied him closely. “Yes,” she said. “Like a log.”

“A log who dreams about wedding dresses, Elvis, Vegas, and, near as I can piece together, the best sex you ever had? Tell me you weren’t having sex with Elvis.”

With a groan, she lay back and pulled her pillow over her face.

Jace laughed, and when he didn’t say anything else, she pushed the pillow off her face to look at him. His face was serious now. “What?”

He sat at her hip. “Why are we really pretending to be together?”

“I already told you. Everyone else was bringing a plus-one and I didn’t want to be a loser.”

“Except Heather’s plus-one is Sammie, and Walker didn’t bring anyone.”

“Other than his bad attitude,” she muttered.

“Yeah, see, you keep saying that, but the only one with a bad attitude that I’ve seen is you.” That he said this in a calm, quiet, even gentle tone saved his life. “Talk to me, Maze.”

Stay open. That had been Caitlin’s request, and she’d asked so little of Maze and yet given so much. “He . . . hurt me,” she said.

Jace’s eyes went dark and dangerous. “He put his hands on you?”