My Kind of Wonderful (13 page)

I
t was past midnight when Hud and Gray had had enough of night skiing. Exhausted, Gray left Hud so that he could crawl into bed with Penny.

Hud knew he should get into bed too. The night before he’d been called in to sub for a graveyard shift in town where he’d gone on one idiotic call after another. The first one had set the tone for the night. It’d started as a domestic disturbance. A couple had gotten in a fight at their home, where they’d each—from separate rooms in the house—thrown the other’s shit out the windows.

Their mistake had been when one of them had somehow come to the conclusion that lighting their spouse’s belongings on fire would be a good idea. They were instantly copied by the other—of course neither would cop to starting it—and they’d accidentally set their yard on fire as well. Consequently, while they were yelling and screaming at each other, their house had gone up in flames.

This had brought the wife to tears and the husband had caved at the sight, promising her another house, better clothes, and the whole world if she’d only stop crying.

Instead, they’d both gone to jail.

After that had come a bar fight at the Slippery Slope. Two fifty-something-year-old men had come to blows over who was going to pay the bar tab. No one could say who’d thrown the first punch, but in less than five minutes the entire bar was one big brawl.

When Hud and his fellow officers had broken up the fight, everyone had pointed their fingers at the two men who’d started it.

Turned out that they worked together and one had slept with the other’s ex-wife.

Hud had been handcuffing one when the other had jumped him. “Get the fuck off him, you asshole!” the idiot screamed in Hud’s ear.

Hud flipped him over his shoulder and held him to the ground, with the sole of one of his work boots to the small of the guy’s back. The two other cops who raced to Hud’s side gave disbelieving headshakes at the insanity of the night, and then they handcuffed both of them.

Seated elbow-to-elbow on the curb, they were suddenly united as one and cursing the police as assholes.

It was the theme of the night. Now here Hud was after another long day and some very satisfying night skiing with Gray, sitting in his office at the resort. Too keyed up to go home to bed, he’d come here to catch up and work through days of unread email.

He had one from Max, and Hud froze as he read it. Jacob’s unit had taken enemy fire—no word on injuries.

Or fatalities.

The email was dated two days ago. Nothing since, which only meant there’d been no new info.

Two days. Fuck. Anything could have happened, and there in the dark of his office Hud stood and sent his phone flying across the room. He heard rather than saw it bounce off the wall and hit the floor.

Along with a shocked gasp.

Pulling his gun in one swift move as he turned to the doorway, he aimed it at the shadow’s face—“Jesus,” he muttered, and immediately lowered it again. Shoving the gun into the back of his jeans, he hit the light. “How did you find me?”

Bailey blinked up at him, eyes huge. “I went to your place and then tried here next. Hudson, I’m sorry, I just—” She shook her head, her eyes glassy.

He grabbed her arm, kicked his chair out from his desk, and lowered her into it. “Not your fault.” He ran a hand over his eyes and mentally kicked his own ass. “I’m sorry,” he said, and turned away, staring out past the window into the dark sky beyond. “It’s been one of those nights.” Weeks. Months…

Most everyone he knew would have left him alone, retreated in the face of his obvious bad mood, leaving him to lick his own wounds.

Not Bailey apparently. She rose out of the chair he’d put her in and came up behind him. He could feel her, her worry, her anxiety.

He was such an asshole. Hud knew it but he couldn’t turn to her. He couldn’t do anything right then but obsess about Max’s email and Jacob. For all their growing-up years, they’d been connected. It seemed at times oddly so. They could always tell what the other had been thinking or when one of them got hurt.

For a while after Jacob had left that ability had lingered, but over the years it’d faded away, leaving Hud nothing of Jacob. Staring out into the night, he should’ve been able to feel his twin.

He couldn’t.

And that scared him to the bone.

“You took a night off. That’s rare,” she said. “The world still spinning?”

He let out a low laugh. Shockingly, the world was still spinning, going on without him. Something to think about.

“Are you okay?” Bailey asked quietly.

This had him closing his eyes. He’d put a gun in her face. He should be comforting her and yet she stood behind him, hovering, wanting to comfort him. He forced out a low laugh. “You hate that question, remember?”

“I do,” she said. “Let me reword. What’s wrong, Hud?”

He felt her hand on his back and instead of pulling away like he would have if it’d been anyone else, he wanted to turn and yank her in tight. To make sure he didn’t, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Just a long night. Go to bed, Bailey.”

Go to bed? Oh no, thank you very much. Bailey knew he was probably well used to dismissing people with that authoritative tone, but she wasn’t one of his employees and couldn’t be dismissed so easily.

Growing up, her teachers had always commented about her stubbornness in her report cards. Fact was, she had it in spades, which she believed had helped save her life. She was too obstinate to die.

The office was silent except for her breathing. If Hud
was breathing, she couldn’t tell. When he finally turned to face her, he arched a brow—and not in an amused way either. More in a frustrated, you’re-being-a-PITA kind of way.

“I don’t know about the other people in your life,” she said, “but I don’t usually do as I’m told. It’s a known problem.”

He gave a small smile but it faded quickly enough as he focused in on her. “You’re shaking.”

“No.”

“Yes, you are.” He pulled her in.

She happily snuggled in, wrapping her arms around him. “It’s not me, Hud,” she whispered, trying to wrap her entire body around him. “It’s you.
You’re
shaking.”

“Shit.” He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, running his hands up and down her arms as if soothing her would soothe him. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispered against her jaw.

“No,” she said. “I should’ve knocked when I first got to your doorway, but you were staring at your phone so intently I didn’t want to interrupt you, and then—”

“It’s okay,” he said. “My fault, not yours.” He kept his mouth against her so every word ghosted over her skin.

She shivered but didn’t want to let him distract her. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?” Knowing it was the last thing he wanted to do, she put her hand on his chest. “I can tell you’ve had a rough night—”

He snorted.

“Okay, a rough week maybe,” she said. “I’ve had a few of those myself and I know that sometimes it helps to say what’s bothering you.”

He was quiet for so long she thought, Okay, I guess he’s
not going to say a word. But then he quietly said, “I got an email about Jacob’s unit.”

She pulled free to search his face for a hint, but he was damn good at giving away nothing when he wanted. “What happened?” she asked.

“They took enemy fire. No word on if there were injuries.” He paused. “Or fatalities.”

Her heart broke at all he didn’t say. “And you’ve had no contact from him?” she asked.

“No.”

“I’m sure he’ll get in touch with you as soon as he can.”

Hud slowly shook his head and scrubbed a hand down his face, which she knew now to be one of his rare tells. He had to be exhausted to let it slip. “No,” he said. “Jacob won’t be in contact.”

“But he’s got to know how you and the others will be worrying about him.”

“Trust me,” he said grimly. “You couldn’t understand.”

She stared up at him. “You think because I don’t have any siblings I can’t understand an obviously difficult relationship?”

“We’re dropping this,” he said. “It’s not up for discussion. Or for public consumption in the mural.”

She absorbed the unexpected hurt of that and turned away, getting as far as the door before she stopped and stared at her hand on the doorknob, remembering what Carrie told her.

Hud pushes away the people he cares about most. He’s good at it
.

Bailey let out a breath and turned, walking back to him until she was toe-to-toe with him. “I almost let you do it,” she said.

“Do what?”

“Push me away. It’s apparently your MO when it comes to the people you care most about. Like Jacob.”

Still as the night behind him, only his eyes tracked to her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“I think I do. So if that’s what you’re doing now, Hud? Pushing me away because you care too much? You should know that I won’t go. I can’t be pushed.” To prove it, she moved back to the door and hit the lock.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

She dropped her sweater on the floor on her way over to him. “If you don’t know, I’m not doing it very well.”

“Bailey—”

“No,” she said, and pointed at him. “You don’t feel like talking, remember?”

“You said last week that this thing was one night,” he said.

Was he worried that she’d try and cling to him? “I said one night?” she asked innocently, purposefully misunderstanding him. “My mistake. I meant two.” She gave him a little push until his desk hit the backs of his thighs.

“Bailey—”

“Shh.” She unzipped his sweatshirt and shoved it off his shoulders.

His hands went to her hips. “Bay.” His voice came out a low, barely there rasp. “This is a bad idea.”

“Well of course it is,” she said. “All week I’m thinking about you while pretending I’m not. And you’re here doing your best to keep me at arm’s length, which I know damn well means that you think about me too.” She smiled. “Really, we’re quite the pair.”

“Fucking pathetic.” But he returned her smile with
a small one of his own and then he was tugging at her clothes and then his, exposing the necessary parts—and God, she loved his necessary parts—so that they could make good use of his desk.

And after that, the loveseat against the wall.

“I sit on this thing and work sometimes,” Hud murmured much later when Bailey was sweaty and still panting in his arms. “I’m never going to look at it the same way again.” She felt him smile against her damp skin. “In fact, I think I’ll have it bronzed.”

H
ud worked his ass off on Saturday afternoon, but that night he did something he couldn’t remember ever doing—he took himself off the roster at both the resort and the station. He also turned off his phone.

And then he knocked at Bailey’s employee apartment.

She opened the door and stared at him.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” She wore his favorite outfit—her skimpy PJs.

“Did you say two nights?” he asked, holding up a bottle of wine and a bag of Chinese takeout. “Or three?

Holding his gaze, she took the bag, dropping eye contact to peer in at the food. She smiled. “Oh, most definitely three.”

The following week was as crazy as all the others in ski season. On Thursday night Hud took his mom out for her “birthday.” On Friday he, Aidan, and Gray went out to dinner. They shared a pitcher of beer and recapped their
week. This was usually a weekly thing. Sometimes Penny and Lily joined them, but tonight it was just the boys plus Kenna. She had blessed them with her presence even though she did spend most of the time on her phone.

Aidan gave Hud a worried look, but Hud knew she was simply playing Words With Friends and probably at this very moment kicking his ass.

“Our insurance company called to let us know we had three serious injuries this week,” Gray announced.

“Actually it was four,” Kenna said with head down and still concentrating on her phone. “Don’t forget that stupid snow bunny who sat too close to the fire pit in the lodge. She was striking poses on the bench in front of it, trying to get a good selfie, and fell on her ass. And since she was wearing ridiculously high-heeled boots, she couldn’t get up quickly and singed her hair extensions. Our mountain had nothing to do with it.”

“Yeah, well,” Gray said, annoyed. “However it happened, they’re sending a rep out next week to discuss better safety precautions. I don’t care if we have to put a sign by the fire pit that says women with hair extensions have to sit twenty feet back, we have to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Gray took any affront on the resort personally.

Kenna rolled her eyes. “You can’t put out a sign like that. You’ll have feminists the world over hating on you.”

“Fine, make the sign say that
anyone
wearing hair extensions needs to stay twenty feet from the fire.”

“We’ve upped our training from every other day to every day,” Hud chimed in, hoping to avoid a fight. “We’re fully staffed. Unlike most of the other resorts, we didn’t make big cuts on either staffing or safety. They’re not going to find any reason to mess with you.”

“Yeah, well, see that they don’t.” Gray thumbed his way down a list on his iPad. “We were asked to sponsor the high school’s ski team again this year.” He lifted his head and looked at Hud. “They’re down a coach and asked for you. You got any time available?”

Shit. No he didn’t. And yet he could remember when all he’d wanted was to be on that ski team. There’d never been enough money for it. No way did he want a single kid to miss out on a dream because of money. “I’d find time if they let us give out scholarships for kids who have the skills but not the money. If I’m the coach, no one misses getting on the team for lack of funds.”

Gray eyed him over the iPad, amused. “And you’re going to pull the money for the scholarships from where exactly, your ass?”

“We’ll find the money.”

Aidan refilled Gray’s beer. “I’m with Hud. We’ll find the money.”

“Christ,” Gray grumbled, and made some notes. “‘Find the money,’” he muttered. “Sure, we’ll just find the goddamn money.”

“I have the money,” Kenna said, actually looking up from her phone.

When Gray started to open his mouth, she set down the phone—something rarely seen out in the wild—and stood up. And then, making a face at how short she still was, she let out a pissy noise and stood on her chair, snatching the pitcher of beer to her chest as she did. “You won’t let me help the resort,” she said to the table. “You won’t let me do shit because you think I’m fragile. Well fragile this, I’m not giving the beer back until someone says I can sponsor the goddamn high school ski team with my own goddamn money!”

“You have my vote,” Aidan said.

Kenna eyed him. “You just want more beer.”

“Yes,” he said seriously. “But I also want to see you smile.”

“I vote for you too,” Hud told her. “On one condition. I’m going to need a co-coach for the ski team.”

Kenna turned to him. “Me?”

“Well, I didn’t mean the Easter Bunny.”

Kenna stared down at him very solemnly. Heartbreakingly earnest. “You want me to co-coach with you.”

“God yes,” he said. “Have you met any high school girls?” He shuddered. “They’re terrifying.”

She blinked and then gave him a smile that seemed more than a little rusty.

“Cool?” he asked.

“Cool,” she whispered. She carefully climbed down off her chair and filled up his beer to the tippy top.

“Hey,” Aidan said. “What about me? I voted for you first,
chica
.”

She filled up Aidan’s glass too.

Gray raised a brow.

“First you have to say you would’ve voted for me if I’d asked,” she said.

“Whatever you want,” Gray said.

She laughed in delight. “
Whatever
I want?”

“Yes,” Gray said. “Because you are to me what high school girls are to Hud. Terrifying.”

She laughed again. “Really?”

“
Always
,” Gray said fervently. “And another always? Me backing you. In anything and everything, Kenna. All of us,” he said. “You have our vote no matter what. You hear me?”

She stared at him for a long beat, her eyes suspiciously shiny. She hated crying, rarely if ever did it. The last time Hud saw her cry was ten years ago when her cat had gotten out and been stolen.

Except it hadn’t really been stolen. The truth was, a coyote had killed it. He and Jacob had stayed up all night burying the thing so Kenna would never know.

Kenna let out a long breath, nodded at Gray, and dipped her head so that they couldn’t see her face. She then tipped up the pitcher and drank the last of the beer right out of it.

“Seriously?” Gray asked.

She swiped her mouth and smiled. “That’s ‘seriously,
coach
’ to you.” She flashed a grin none of them had seen in far too long. “Next round’s on me,” she said, and headed to the bar.

Aidan gave Gray a punch to the shoulder.

“Ow,” Gray said. “And what the fuck?”

“I’ve been telling you all she needs is something to do, to feel self-worth again. Stop babying her. You should know by now she hates it.”

Gray snatched Aidan’s beer and flipped him off while downing it.

Aidan turned to Hud, tossing him a brown bag he pulled from his backpack.

“What’s this?” Hud asked distrustfully. He had good reason not to trust a damn thing Aidan handed him in a bag.

Aidan smirked. “Worried?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Jeez, give a guy a snake one time…”

Gray grinned. “That was a lot of fun.”

Asshole brothers. Hud took the bag with two fingers. “If this is a snake, you’d better say your last prayers.”

Aidan laughed. “That was ten years ago and it was a fucking garter snake, man. Harmless.”

“Harmless my ass. It bit me!”

“It did not,” Aidan said. “You just told everyone that because you screamed like a banshee.”

“I repeat,” Hud said stiffly, “you tossed a snake into my lap.”

“You nearly shit your pants.”

That he hadn’t was solely due to the fact that he’d been sitting next to Trina Anderson, at the time the hottest thing he’d ever seen. He’d been working his way up to getting in her pants when Aidan had ever so helpfully screwed him over. “So I have one fear,” he said now. “So what? Everyone’s afraid of something.”

“You’re afraid of
two
things,” Aidan said. “Open the bag.”

Hud shook it. Nothing hissed or even moved. Considering it safe, he peered into the bag. “
Shit
.”

Aidan grinned as Hud pulled out the pair of siren-red male bikini briefs from Big Dog. On the fly it read:

CHOKING HAZARD!

Hud stared down at them while Aidan laughed his fool ass off. The ongoing gag, of course. Now he had to wear these tomorrow or suffer the consequences. Way back, they’d started out with obnoxious ties. Hud missed those days, but Penny had vehemently objected after Gray had been forced to wear a tie with a large penis on it to a bank meeting.

So far Gray had managed to keep this new trend from her, but it was only a matter of time.

Aidan was still grinning, clearly quite proud of himself because he knew Hud wore boxers and hated briefs with the same intensity he reserved for snakes and spinach.

“Notice the timing,” Aidan pointed out helpfully. “You have to wear them tomorrow—Bailey will be up tomorrow,” he added, cackling like he was bent over his cauldron.

“Be afraid,” Hud said. “Because you’re next.”

Aidan didn’t look too worried.

Hud shoved the briefs back into the brown bag, flipped Aidan off, and finished his beer.

Bailey didn’t get out of Denver Friday night as planned. She’d had a late-afternoon doctor’s appointment—a big visit. Three months had passed since her first all clear—six months total since she’d last shown cancer the door. She desperately wanted to hear that the second three-month check confirmed the same but she knew the drill. It was a hurry-up-and-wait thing. It’d be Monday or Tuesday of next week before she got the results.

Still, as always, her oncologist had given her a list of options of what could happen and how they’d deal with it. Mostly, and most importantly, the doctor felt optimistic that Bailey was still in the clear.

Bailey liked that option best herself and decided to take a page from her grandma’s book.

Worrying about something is like wishing for it to happen. Just pretend it’s all good. Pretend enough and it becomes real
.

So she set her alarm for four in the morning and at the asscrack of dawn on Saturday, she hit the road, arriving at Cedar Ridge with the first hint of the sun.

She parked and went to stand in front of her wall. Her breath crystalized in front of her face and she was glad the day was supposed to get up near fifty degrees. She didn’t want her paints to freeze.

She tilted her head back and took in the mural. The tree was finished, its roots stretching across the bottom of the wall, the branches and leaves looking alive as they took over the top. Along the way there were spots for the five Kincaid siblings to appear. Gray sat on a throne—his ski helmet his crown and his staff a ski pole. Penny sat in his lap with one arm around his neck and the other on a ski pole as well. Skis adorned all four of their feet.

When Bailey shifted slightly, so did the image—as planned. Depending on how you looked at them, they were either sitting looking at each other or sharing poles as they skied as one.

Aidan was in search and rescue gear, hanging off a branch of the tree like Tarzan. Lily was tucked under one arm, and the two of them were looking at each other and laughing.

Everything to the right of that was still only penciled in and even then only up to Hud. She’d drawn him in ski patrol gear complete with his backpack right in the middle of a crazy jump off the top of the tree—which she’d covered in snow so that it also looked like a mountain cliff. He was in great form with knees bent and skis high enough to see the bottoms. Which read:
I’VE GOT YOUR BACK
.

She still had to draw Jacob and Kenna, but she knew she’d done a good job and had never felt so excited about her work before.

“Bailey?”

At the voice she hadn’t expected to hear, she whirled around and yep, there was Aaron. He stood at the base of her scaffolding, although she hardly recognized him without his usual suit. He was in jeans and a down jacket, and she was so surprised to see him that she nearly slipped off the scaffolding as she climbed down.

His arms came out to steady her but she stepped back as soon as she could. This wasn’t one of those happy surprises. More like the opposite. Cedar Ridge was hers. This was her little secret, her happy spot.

Wrong as it might be, she didn’t want to share it. “Aaron, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see what you were up to.”

Still staring at him, she lifted a hand and pointed upward to the mural.

Instead of even looking at it, he gripped her arms and pulled her in and kissed her with a desperation she could taste. For a beat she allowed it, holding still, trying to feel it.

But she didn’t. She didn’t feel anything except his admittedly very nice mouth pressing against hers and his equally nice body doing the same. It was… nice.

No fireworks. No shortness of breath. No quivery belly, and the bones in her knees didn’t dissolve. Shaking her head, she pulled free.

“You didn’t feel anything,” he said, sounding unhappy. “Not even a little bit.”

She grimaced. “Aaron—”

“No, I get it. I didn’t either. Christ.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry. I knew it. I knew things changed for you after I screwed up and hooked up with Donna, but I had to give it one last try.” He cupped her face, and with
eyes soft gave her one last kiss. Light this time. Friendly. Warm. “I’ll always be here for you,” he said.

“I know.” She ran her hands up his arms and hugged him. “And thank you.”

“For?”

She smiled. “For hooking up with Donna.”

He smiled back. “One day you’re going to miss me.”

“I know.”

He winked at her and slipped his arm in hers. “Breakfast? Come on, I’ll buy while you wait for the temps to come up a little.”

Why not. “Okay,” she said, but then—drawn by a force she didn’t understand—Bailey turned her head. And found Hudson standing about twenty-five feet away. He wore his dark sunglasses, but she didn’t need to see his eyes to know he’d witnessed the kiss. Nope, that was in every tense line of his tall, leanly muscled bod.