My Kind of Wonderful

  perfectly see, even after all this time, the look of shock and hurt on Jacob’s face.

  “Hud,” Aidan said with shocking gentleness. “No one blames you.”

  “I blame me,” Hud said tightly. He opened his eyes and met Aidan’s confused ones. “There’s no one else to blame.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “The last words I said to him were ‘we’re no longer brothers.’”

  Aidan stared at him for a beat and then sighed. “You were angry—”

  “No excuse.”

  “You were hurt—”

  “So was he,” Hud said.

  Aidan put his hand on Hud’s shoulder. “Listen to me very carefully because I’m only going to say this once so you need to really hear me.” He paused. “What happened was every bit as much Jacob’s fault as yours. It was,” he reiterated when Hud opened his mouth to speak. “You’ve got to stop beating the shit out of yourself over it. More than that, you have to forgive yourself.”

  “Yeah? And why is that?” Hud asked.

  “Because wherever Jacob is right now? He’s forgiven you.”

  Hud stared at him, wanting to believe that was true. “How do you know?”

  “I know,” Aidan said in a voice of steel. “I ever tell you about the time I crashed Gray’s truck?”

  “You never crashed Gray’s truck.”

  Aidan laughed mirthlessly. “Wrong. I was fourteen and a real punk-ass, too, just like you. No doubt it’s in the Kincaid genes. Just one more thing to thank our dad for, right?” He shook his head. “Anyway, Gray had just gotten a truck. He’d saved for a couple of years, from even before he could drive. And he loved it more than he did girls, if that tells you anything. He was fixing it up every night after school and work. I wanted to help, but he wouldn’t let me. He told me to keep my grimy hands off it.”

  “Let me guess,” Hud said. “You didn’t.”

  “Nope. One night after he’d gone to bed, I stole his keys and took it for a joyride. It was snowing.”

  Hud grimaced. Gray was notoriously, ridiculously attached to his vehicles. “You had a death wish?”

  Aidan grinned. “Yeah, pretty much. The driveway out of the apartment complex we lived in—you remember it from when you came a few years later.”

  “That driveway was a sheet of ice in the winter,” Hud said.

  “Yep. I slid all the way down the thing and hit the mailboxes at the other end. Which of course saved my life because it meant I didn’t slide into the street and oncoming traffic.” Aidan let out a breath. “Which didn’t save me from Gray’s wrath, by the way.”

  “A little pissed, was he?”

  Aidan laughed. “Beyond pissed. I’d never seen him so furious before, or since, actually. Luckily, I had a concussion and had to go to the hospital. I fully expected to be arrested for grand theft auto when I was released, but instead Gray was waiting for me.” Aidan shook his head. “I saw him and thought, well, it was a good run, I’d managed to keep myself alive for fourteen years, and had a good time while I was at it.”

  Hud laughed. “He kill you fast, or torturously slow?”

  “I was just hoping for fast,” Aidan said. “But he shocked me. He hauled me in for a hard hug and said we were blood. He said that we’d never stop being blood and blood didn’t kill blood—much as it might want to. Gray also informed me that until further notice when he asked me to jump, I was only to ask how high.” Aidan shook his head. “I was his bitch for months.”

  Hud laughed even as the humor was replaced by a hard knot of something in his chest. Grief. Regret. Frustration. “Jacob isn’t Gray.”

  “No,” Aidan said. “But he is blood. You might have some hoops to jump, but nothing can change that one fact—blood is blood.”

  Chapter 17

  It was several hours later before Hud got any kind of break and headed back to the lodge, starving. He ran into Gray on the steps and they entered the cafeteria together.

  At a corner table sat Penny, Lily, and… Bailey. The three of them were clearly enjoying a late lunch together, laughing over something.

  Gray grinned. “I just found what I want for lunch.”

  Hud rolled his eyes and followed Gray to the table.

  “And then, hand to heaven,” Penny was saying, “I heard Hud say to Gray, ‘Touch that remote, even think about switching the channel from Say Yes to the Dress, and I promise to act appropriately grief stricken at your funeral.’”

  Lily snorted tea out of her nose.

  Bailey laughed so hard she slid out of her chair and hit the floor.

  The story was complete bullshit with not a lick of truth to it.

  Okay, fine, so maybe he’d watched the show one time, but only because Penny had been really sick with pneumonia and they’d all taken turns sitting with her—babysitting her. When it’d been Hud’s turn, she insisted on that show. And yeah, maybe they’d spent the entire afternoon critiquing the dresses and soaking up the family drama on-screen. Hud looked at Gray, who went palms up like, Hey, don’t look at me, I can’t control her.

  Shaking his head, Hud walked over to Bailey and scooped her up, setting her back into her chair. He knew better than to ask her if she was okay. Besides, she was still laughing so hard he had to keep his hands on her shoulders to hold her into the chair so that she wouldn’t slide to the floor again.

  She got herself together enough to say to him, “I like that show too.”

  Christ. He slid Penny a you’re-going-to-die-slowly look, which she, predictably, ignored.

  Lily was trying to clean herself up after snorting her tea. “Damn,” she said to Penny. “I know better than to drink when you’re telling a story.”

  Penny innocently dabbed her mouth with a napkin, smiling up at her husband. “Hey there, big guy. Want to buy me dessert?”

  Gray grinned at her. “I’ve already got your dessert, babe.”

  She gave him a saucy look before reaching for her purse, stopping to glance at Lily. “You gotta go, too, right?”

  “In a few,” Lily said, and then suddenly jumped with an “ow” and a dirty look in Penny’s direction.

  “Thought you had to get back to work too,” Penny said meaningfully, jerking her head in Hud’s direction. Either she was having a seizure or she wanted them all to leave Bailey and Hud alone.

  Subtle. Not. But Lily wasn’t getting it. “I’ve got another ten minutes—” She started, only to jump like she’d been kicked again. “Dammit, would you stop doing that—”

  “You said you had an appointment,” Penny said slowly, once again going with the head jerk in Bailey’s direction.

  “Oh!” Lily said, the lightbulb going off. She too grabbed her bag and stood. “Right. You’re so right. I’ve got an appointment.”

  “Uh-huh,” Hud said, smelling a rat. A matchmaking rat named Penny. “And what’s this appointment for?”

  “Dentist,” Lily said.

  “Client,” Penny said at the same time.

  The two of them looked at each other.

  “I’ve got a salon client,” Lily corrected. “A cut and color—”

  “She has a dentist appointment,” Penny said at the same time.

  Disgusted, Hud looked at Gray.

  Gray was hiding his smile behind his hand as he rubbed it over his mouth. He hauled his woman into his arms. “Dessert?” Gray was a one-track-mind sort of guy.

  “Mm-hmm,” Penny said, and kissed him.

  And then they were gone, heading straight for the staff entrance, which led to the offices.

  Which meant that they’d be in Gray’s office with the door locked and no one would see either of them for at least an hour.

  “I’m off too,” Lily said.

  “To your dentist appointment,” Hud said with narrowed eyes.

  “Um, yes. Right.”

  Hud shook his head at her but she just smiled, went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, winked at Bailey, and then was gone too.

&nbs
p; When Bailey stood, Hud grabbed her hand and reeled her in a little bit. “Where you going?”

  “Back to work.”

  “You really going to run off after they worked so hard to get us alone together?”

  She met his gaze, studying him a moment. He studied her right back. Her knit cap was sunshine yellow today, suiting her rosy complexion, which was a lot less pale than it had been her first week up here. She’d gotten a little color from being outside on the weekends, giving her a healthy glow that made him happy to see.

  She’d shed her jacket and was in just a stark white, long-sleeved V-neck T-shirt that fit her like a second skin and pretty much took his breath away. She also wore skinny-cut ski pants today that hung low on her hips and were tucked into boots that made her legs look a mile long.

  She had a streak of pale blue paint on her yellow cap, some purple over her jaw, and forest green across one breast.

  She’d never looked better to him. “Tell me about the fiancé,” he heard himself say.

  “You mean the ex-fiancé.”

  “He was kissing you,” Hud pointed out.

  “Right,” she said. “He was kissing me. I was not kissing him.”

  He just looked at her.

  She blew out a breath and looked around. “Listen, I’d like to tell you the whole, sordid story but I can’t go on until I get some chocolate. And I promised myself that I’d take a few ski runs during my lunch break today. I really want to be a better skier.”

  He took her hand and tugged her toward the front of the cafeteria. The lines were long today. Too long. So he steered her past them, grabbing a handful of candy bars on the way.

  At the front he waved at the checkout clerk. He’d known Sydney since tenth-grade algebra. He’d done her math homework and she’d written his English papers for him. And sometimes, when he’d gotten very lucky, they’d done other stuff for each other in the back of her daddy’s truck. For each other. To each other…

  She winked at him and nodded that she’d put the candy bars on his account, waving him off at the same time. Fifteen minutes later he’d gotten Bailey skis and boots from rentals and had her on a lift with him.

  “What are we doing?” she asked, breathless, and it was no wonder. She made getting on a lift a dangerous sport, knocking out an entire line of people. Hud had shown her the right way to get on, which didn’t involve injuring any of his paying guests. “You’re telling me a story,” he said. “And I’m going to make you a better skier.”

  At least a non-dangerous one…

  “Cocky much?” she asked.

  “Nope. Just good.” He dumped four different candy bars into her lap. “Wasn’t sure which one you’d like.”

  “You didn’t ask.”

  “Didn’t need to, because I covered all the options available,” he said. “Pick your poison.”

  “And if I said I wanted all of them…?”

  He laughed. “I’d probably try to sweet-talk you out of the Snickers.”

  She didn’t look impressed. “She winked at you.”

  “She?” he asked.

  “The cute blond clerk at the checkout.”

  “She did,” Hud agreed. “Sydney.”

  “Sydney the cute blond clerk winked at you.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Of course not. Why did she wink at you?”

  “Because I’m cute too?” he asked.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You’re something,” she agreed. “But not cute. A mountain cat isn’t cute. Smart, sleek, beautiful, and deadly, maybe. But not cute.”

  He laughed again. He was doing that a lot around her. “You think I’m smart, sleek, and beautiful?”

  “And deadly,” she pointed out. “And most definitely not cute.”

  The lift slowed and then stopped entirely. Someone had undoubtedly fallen off of it either at the top or the bottom. But for once Hud was happy to be stuck on a lift. “Tell me more,” he said.

  “About…?”

  “Eric.”

  “Aaron.” She narrowed her eyes. “And you knew that.”

  He shrugged. Yeah, he’d known that.

  “He was my first boyfriend,” she said. “For a lot of years. And he’s my only ex.”

  “Only?” he asked, not sure he could have heard right. She was sweet and cute and sexy and smart and talented… Why in the world would she have had only one boyfriend?

  Because, you idiot, she fought cancer for most of her life.

  “I got sick when I was fifteen,” she said softly, confirming his thought as she stared out at the scenic view of the Rockies for as far as the eye could see.

  Reaching over, he covered her hand with his. “You don’t have to—”

  “No,” she said. “I want you to understand. It wasn’t pretty, Hudson. I ended up out of school more than I was in it. Aaron lived next door and he would bring me my homework and help me.”

  Well, hell. He’d been working up a good and instant dislike of the guy and as it turned out, Aaron deserved more than that from him.

  The lift still didn’t budge. He could hear the conversation on his radio, turned to low. A beginner had fallen getting off the lift. She was six and was apparently in the middle of a full-blown temper tantrum.

  Hud had never been more grateful for a spoiled little kid in his life.

  A low cloud had moved in and blanketed most of the landscape, leaving them in their own little world. Bailey looked lost in her memories, and unhappy.

  He squeezed her gloved hand with his. “You were sick for a long time,” he said quietly, wanting her to keep talking.

  “More accurately, I was a dead girl walking.”

  He made a completely involuntary sound from deep in his throat. It could only be described as sheer grief at the thought of her no longer being in this world. She turned her hand over to grip his fingers in hers.

  Comforting him.

  Yep. Most amazing woman he’d ever met.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I always forget. I had a lot of years to get used to it, but I shouldn’t blurt it out like that.”

  “Yes,” he said. “You should. Don’t ever sugarcoat things, Bailey, not for me. I want to hear it, all of it.”

  She nodded. “I wasn’t supposed to live. We all knew it. Aaron stayed by my side, even when…” She grimaced. “Even when I knew we didn’t love each other in the right way. I dreamed of passion, and I craved it, but I didn’t feel that with him. And yet he was a rock for me, always. Even when, as it turned out, he also needed… more. So yes, he’s still in my life. Sometimes more than I want him to be,” she said wryly. “But I’ve already broken his heart. I won’t push him away as a friend too. I can’t.”

  “I get that,” Hud said. He also loved that about her. Loyalty meant everything to him, and she was the definition of the word.

  “We’re not together, Aaron and me,” she said, turning her head to meet his gaze as she revealed her own, open and honest. “Not like that. And haven’t been for a long, long time.”

  All Hud could manage was a nod because for a while now he’d had a fist around his heart. Part of it was worrying about his mom and her condition. Another part of it belonged overseas, wherever Jacob was fighting for his country and probably his damn life—he’d had no word from Max.

  But some of that grip on his heart was Baily and it had just loosened.

  Which was bad. Very bad.