She’d taken the free pass and given him some bullshit story about being afraid of storms. She wasn’t afraid of storms—she loved storms—but he’d let her have the lie, and in return she’d given him all of her chores for the week.
There’d been many more “free passes” over that year, mostly relating to covering each other’s asses when they’d found trouble, which they’d done readily enough.
But she’d never told him what really haunted her. Truth was, she hadn’t had to. He’d found her in the midst of enough nightmares to put her broken words together with what he knew of her past—that she’d been removed from her mom’s custody because of a string of abusive boyfriends.
Maze had learned to hide in closets for a damn good reason. It’d killed him then, and still did.
“A free pass,” he said again now. “Whatever you want. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“All right.” She drew a deep breath. “I want to know why you clearly managed to keep in touch with Caitlin and Heather and not . . .” Breaking off, she looked away.
He shifted to see her face. “And not you?”
“You know what? Never mind.” She turned to move off, but he pulled her back around to face him.
“Do you remember what your last words were to me?” he asked.
“‘Fuck you’?” she asked sweetly.
He smiled grimly. “Close. You told me to stay the hell away from you.”
“I didn’t mean literally.”
He arched a brow. “Noted. But you need to be very careful what you say to me, Maze. We’re grown-ups now. I’m going to always take you at your word.”
She looked away. “What if only one of us is an actual grown-up?”
He smiled. “You missed me.”
She snorted. “You’re about to get a repeat of my so-called last words to you.”
“You missed me,” he said again. “And for the record, I missed you too. And now I get a question.”
“That was not part of the bargain. I’d never be stupid enough to give you a free pass.”
“Humor me. Please?”
The “please” seemed to boggle her, and he got it. He rarely allowed himself to show vulnerability. There were only a few people who could expose that side of him, and they were all here, stuck together at the lake for a week. “Fine,” she said. “One question.”
“Why did you stay away from Caitlin and Heather so long?”
“I discovered I’m easier taken in small doses.”
That gave him a pang for her. “Maze—”
“Hey, let’s go,” Caitlin called out. She headed across the front yard to the small trail that wound around the lake.
And like good little minions, everyone followed.
A light breeze had chased away all the clouds so that nothing marred the eye-popping blue sky. The trail was rocky but flat, and dry foliage crunched beneath their feet as they moved along the water’s edge. Maze was in front of Walker in a pair of black shorts that showed off her sexy long legs, every single inch of which he’d once taken his mouth on a tour of. She wore a tight white tank top and an oversized plaid button-down tied at the waist, exposing some skin between that and the waistband of her shorts every time she moved, which was all the time because Maze was in constant motion. She was frying his brain cells left and right, and he’d like to not think about her at all, but apparently that was beyond his control.
It helped that Jace walked alongside her. Whether he was her boyfriend or not, she wasn’t available, and that was absolutely the best thing for both of them.
Caitlin was wearing a huge backpack like she was going on a five-day wilderness excursion. There was a weight to her shoulders that spoke of more than just the weight of whatever she was carrying. Dillon walked at her side, coaxing Roly and Poly along, both of whom were lagging on their leashes.
“Come on, babies. I know you guys can get your little booties up to this beach,” he said when they stopped, refusing to walk farther. He crouched down and looked them in the eyes. “We talked about this. I can’t carry you around all the time.”
They snorted and whined, and with a laugh, he scooped them up, tucking one beneath each arm. “Roly, man, you’re getting . . . roly.”
The pug wheezed and licked his face.
Walker lifted the backpack from Caitlin’s shoulders. “What the hell’s in here? Rocks?”
“It’s everything but the kitchen sink,” Dillon said. “But she likes to be prepared, and God help anyone who wants to help her.”
“Because I can do it myself,” Caitlin said, playing tug-of-war with Walker for the pack.
“But you don’t have to,” Walker said.
“Dude, don’t even try.” Dillon sighed, set the dogs down, and swooped up the backpack from both of them. “I’ve got it.”
Caitlin huffed out a breath, took the leashes from Dillon’s hand, and marched off in front of them.
“She’s stubborn,” Walker said.
“You think?”
The lake was a deep blue, dotted with whitecaps flashing with each swell. A few boats were scattered across the water. Winter fishing was a big sport here. Halfway around the lake, they came to a place Walker remembered well: a small cove, complete with a tire swing hanging from an ancient, gnarled, beautiful oak.
“Wa-wa!” Sammie yelled, pointing to the lake.
“Yes, baby, water,” Heather said, “but we’re not going swimming today. The water’s chilly.”
Sammie nodded sagely.
Roly plopped onto the sand and stared at the water lapping about ten feet from him. Poly barked once and ran straight for the water, not stopping when he hit it, plowing into it.
And vanished.
Everyone gasped. Dillon stood at the water’s edge. “Poly!” he yelled.
Nothing.
Walker started for the water, but Maze was already there, running past Dillon. In up to her thighs, she looked down, reached beneath the water, and came up with Poly.
“Oh my God,” Caitlin said as Maze strode out of the water, drenched. “Thank you! Dillon, she saved Poly!”
Dillon took Poly from Maze and, in a move that seemed to shock everyone, hugged Maze tight with his free arm. “Thank you,” he said, and kissed her on top of her head.
Maze, never comfortable with affection, not to mention feelings, didn’t seem to know what to do with herself. Walker might have laughed, except she was now shrugging out of the damp plaid overshirt, leaving her in that equally damp white tank top, which had him feeling things no one should be feeling at a family picnic. Stripping out of his sweatshirt, he tossed it to her and got a few seconds of enjoyment watching her try to decide between her pride and freezing her ass off. In the end, she pulled on his sweatshirt, and damn, she looked good in it.
“Time for food!” Caitlin declared with an overabundance of cheer that had Walker taking a second look at her. “Just give me a few minutes to set up,” she said.
When Caitlin needed a minute, it was usually to give herself a time-out in order to avoid bloodshed. Walker headed over to where she was setting up a rather elaborate picnic. “What’s up?”
Caitlin downed a glass of wine. “Nothing.”