My Kind of Wonderful (15 page)

W
hen Hudson smiled, Bailey promptly lost her train of thought. They were fifty feet in the air, and their feet were dangling over nothing but snow and trees. She should’ve been her usual anxious.

Instead she wanted to crawl into his lap, wrap herself around him like a monkey, and get some more of his mind-blowing kisses.

Not going to happen up here with people both in front of and behind them. So instead, she opened the Snickers and offered it to him.

He flashed another smile, leaned in, and took a bite, and then nudged it back to her.

Something fluttered low in her belly at his smile, and she took a big bite of her own and let out an entirely involuntary, heartfelt moan.

“You okay over there?”

“Oh, my God,” she said, licking her lips. “You have no idea.”

Hudson’s eyes darkened and she quickly searched her brain for a diversion. “So… you were a juvenile delinquent?”

His gaze lifted from her mouth to her eyes. “Yes.”

“Did you find the trouble or did it find you?”

“Both.”

She smiled. “A real badass, huh?” she asked.

“Still am.”

“Okay, let’s make a deal,” she said on a laugh. “How about you answer my questions with more than two words and I don’t push you off this lift? Sound like a good plan?”

He grinned. She couldn’t push him anywhere and they both knew it. A good wind could blow her away.

“Jacob and I came to Cedar Ridge when we were twelve,” he said. “We were just about as feral as they come.”

She blinked. “Wow, a whole sentence. Keep going.”

He glanced around them as if looking for his own distraction and she laughed. “Oh, no you don’t,” she said. “For once the radio on your hip is silent. There’s a lull on the mountain, probably because most of the skiers and boarders are at the lodge filling their empty bellies and warming their extremities. Talk.”

He studied her for a long beat and then let out a slow smile. “Maybe
you’re
the badass.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, “and don’t ever forget it. Talk.”

He smiled at her. She was pushing him but they both knew that he wasn’t going to say a single word until he was damn well good and ready.

“Jacob and I didn’t grow up here,” he said, surprising her. “We grew up near Jackson Hole. My dad came into town on some business, during which he took advantage
of a very young, sweet girl working as a hostess at a dive bar and grill.”

“Your mom,” she breathed.

“Yeah. She got pregnant, kept us, and did so with minimal help from Richard Kincaid. She did the best she could with what she had.”

“She’s pretty amazing.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But there were plenty of problems. You’ve seen her fade in and out of reality. It made holding down a job difficult for her. It all kind of collapsed around the time we hit middle school.”

“That must have been awful,” she said. “What happened?”

He lifted a broad shoulder. “Jacob and I took over for her. We got jobs.”

“In middle school.”

“I didn’t say they were legit jobs. Which they weren’t, by the way. But we were already dodging child protective services and didn’t want to get taken away from her. She needed us. And we needed money to keep our heads above water.”

Bailey’s stomach sank thinking of him at that age, doing whatever he had to do to keep his family together.

He took in her expression and gave her a small smile and a shake of his head. “You don’t want pity, so don’t you dare give it to me.”

“Not pity,” she said, and forced herself to swallow the lump of empathy in her throat. “Admiration. What happened?”

He shrugged again. “We did what we had to do. Jacob worked at a local vet’s office at night cleaning up all the cages and walking the dogs for cash. He’d then take that cash and go play cards with the older kids in someone’s
garage. Jacob had a thing for numbers and could count cards.”

She blinked. “And you?”

“I cooked at the old folks’ home. The breakfast shift. That’s where I learned to get up at four in the morning.”

She tried to imagine him as a kid cooking breakfast for an entire old folks’ home. “Seems slightly safer than what Jacob was doing.”

“Hell if it was,” he said. “I got my ass pinched every single morning by all the old ladies taking too many hormones. All these years later and my ass still hurts.”

She covered her mouth but the laugh came out anyway.

His eyes lit at her humor. “Would you still feel sorry for me if I told you at night I’d go play pool at some guy’s house down the street, conning him and his buddies out of their hard-earned cash to double my own cash flow?”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” he said. “The rent had to be paid and my mom’s meds weren’t cheap.”

And then there were food and other necessities, she thought, aching for the twin boys who’d never really had a childhood. “But then you came here?”

“And inherited three half siblings,” he said. “Aidan and Gray’s mom took us in as her own so my mom could get the help she needed.”

“Wow,” Bailey breathed. “That’s a good woman right there, considering you were the offspring of the woman her husband had cheated with.”

“Char had dumped Richard Kincaid’s sorry ass by then,” Hud said. “And she has a heart of gold. She not only took us in, she took us
on
, loving us the same as she loved Gray and Aidan.”

“So things got better?” she asked.

He paused and she found herself holding her breath. She wanted that for him and wanted that badly. And she’d seen how much Gray and Aidan and Kenna adored him.

“It was better for a while,” he said quietly. “But before we got here, before we knew what we’d find, Jacob and I made a pact. We swore to each other that we’d leave the second we turned eighteen. We’d strike out on our own and stick together, just him and me.”

Her heart kicked hard because she knew she was finally going to get the story on what had happened to Jacob and why the twins weren’t together.

“But then we settled in here and I took to this place, hard and fast,” Hudson said. “It instantly became home for me. But not for Jacob. He wanted to leave before we ever even got here, and he never lost sight of that goal. Unlike me. I actually forgot all about it until high school graduation.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“Jacob said it was time for us to go. He’d been biding his time, counting down, and he wanted to leave as soon as possible. I didn’t. We fought about it.”

“But what about your mom and your siblings?” she asked.

“Jacob never got attached here like I did. And because of it, he held himself back. He didn’t get close to the others. And though he always paid for half of my mom’s care—and still does—he was bound and determined to leave no matter what. He needed adventure. He needed to live the way he’d always wanted—untethered.”

“And so he just left?” she asked in disbelief.

“Not before we had the big blowup. But yeah, he left and has never been back.”

“Oh, Hudson,” she said softly. “I’m sorry he left you like that, after all you’d been through together.”

“No, you don’t understand,” he said. “It was my fault. I said…” He closed his eyes. “I said shit to him that I can’t take back. That’s still between us, and I know it always will be. I did this. Not Jacob.”

She stared up at him. “What could you possibly say to him that couldn’t be taken back?”

He turned forward, his jaw tight. “I told him if he went, we weren’t brothers anymore.”

She took that in. “Well surely he knew those were just angry words spoken in the heat of the moment.”

“Yeah well, I also said that if he wanted to be like our dad, then he should just get the fuck out.”

“Oh, Hud,” she whispered, and set her hand on his arm. “I’m sure he knew that was just the anger talking. If not then, then surely later when he thought about it. My God, you were just eighteen-year-old kids. No one says what they mean when they’re eighteen.”

“I don’t know what Jacob thought,” he said. “I’ve spent a lot of time wishing I could take it all back, but I can’t. Fact is, you see, I pushed him away. And as you’ve already noted, I’m pretty damn good at it too.” He straightened. “Face forward. Feet up.”

“What?” she asked, still lost in his story, aching for his regrets. She looked up just in time to gasp.

They were at the top of the mountain.

She barely got her feet and ski tips up before she was making the transition from chair to snow. She wobbled, squealed, and was one hundred percent going down—

But a hand fisted in the back of her jacket and lifted her
enough that she got her skis beneath her. When Hud set her down, he gave her a push.

She gasped and clutched her poles and wavered.

“Bend your knees,” he directed, all calm and perfect on his skis, the ratfink bastard.

But she bent her knees and… didn’t crash. When she drifted to a stop off to the side, she turned her head and glared at him.

“Problem?” he asked.

“You pushed me!”

“Yes, because you stopped right in the lane and were about to get run over by the people getting off the lift behind us.”

She stared at him, but her pride was not sure if it was ready to forgive.

He smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m not thanking you until I live to the bottom of this run.”

He flashed that badass smile. “How will you thank me?”

Instead of stabbing him with one of her poles, she pushed off and headed down the hill, which from here looked to be about one hundred miles of ski run but actually was probably only two. As it always did, the sensation of gliding over the snow, combined with the utter lack of control she had over that snow, gave her heart a hard kick. But… she was doing it. She was skiing! She laughed out loud with the sheer joy of it. “Look at me,” she yelled back to Hud, smiling wide. “I’m doing it!”

That’s when her ski caught an edge. For about three seconds she fought the valiant fight, no doubt looking like a cat trying to scramble across linoleum, unable to catch her grip. She heard Hud behind her, voice calm. “Find
your center. Bend your knees. Lean forward, not to the side—”

Too late. She leaned.

And she fell.

Right on her face. And for extra shits and giggles, she slid on her face down the hill another twenty feet or so. Sprawled out, she pushed up and spit out some snow.

She was hauled to her feet. Hud, of course. He dusted off the front of her and then turned her to get her backside. He slapped her there more than a few times until she twisted free and glared at him.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Are you sure you were thorough enough?”

He smiled. “Can never be too thorough.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t ask me if I was okay.”

“You hate that question.”

And just like that, her annoyance drained and her breath caught. He wasn’t a coddler. It wasn’t his style. He’d absolutely give her what he thought she needed, but he knew she didn’t want to be babied. She smiled at him then because damn. Damn, she could really fall for him.

Not that she was going to. Nope. No way, no how. “You have any tips for how not to do that again?” she asked.

“Yeah. Keep your mouth closed so you leave some of the snow for the other skiers.”

“Haha.”

He grinned and gave her a very gentle push off. “Again,” he said. “Without the sliding on your face part.”

She sighed and hunkered into her ski pose, trying to concentrate.

“Lean forward,” Hudson said from right behind her. “Turn into the fall line.”

She did and immediately saw the difference. For once she actually felt in control and adrenaline surged in her veins. She loved the wind hitting her face and loved the feeling that she was flying—

“Bend your knees,” he said.

“I am.”

“More.”

“My thighs are burning.”

“Which means you’re doing it right.”

“Maybe I should rethink this,” she said. “And become a ski bunny who gets to sit all nice and warm and toasty in the lodge.”

“I’ll make you nice and toasty later,” he promised. “Watch your skis. When you traverse across the slope, your skis need to be more parallel.”

She was about to parallel him upside the head when a little girl called out to him.

“
HudsonHudsonHudson!
” The cutie pie swooshed around him on her tiny skis, beaming wide as she came up alongside.

She was missing both her front teeth.

“Emma,” Hudson said with a chuckle. “You escape from your dad again?”

“Yes!” She giggled. “Race me!”

Hudson turned to Bailey.

“I don’t mind,” she said. “I’d love to see her kick your butt.”

“Ready, set, go!” Emma yelled, and took off.

Hudson easily got ahead of her and turned to face her, skiing backward like it was no big deal.

But Emma was no slouch. She might be tiny, but she was very good. Her little body moved with easy confidence. But then she dove into a turn and—in Bailey’s humble opinion, because she bent her knees too much—fell… right into Hudson.

He dropped his poles to catch her in midair, twisting so that as they tumbled to the snow in a heap, he was on the bottom, not crushing her.

Emma immediately sat up, grinning wide. “That was fun! Can we do it again? Can we?”

From prone on the ground, Hudson lifted Emma off of him. “No, you little rug rat. Some of us are too old for this.”

Beaming at him again, she took off. “Gotta go,” she yelled back. “Mom and Dad are waiting for me at the bottom.”

And then she was gone.

Bailey came to a careful stop next to Hud. “You’re supposed to stay on your feet,” she teased, tossing his own lesson back in his face.

Not afraid to laugh at himself, he snorted as he got to his feet. They took off in tandem.

“Uh-oh,” she said, moving in closer. “You have a little…” Pretending she was going to brush some snow off of him, she instead smacked his ass in the same way he’d done to her. Except maybe harder. Or, you know, a lot harder.

Hudson’s eyes lit with a heated challenge as he gave her a look that had every bone in her body melting. It was the only reason that she plowed right into him, taking them both back down to the snow.