My Kind of Wonderful

  Carrie sighed. “He and Jacob were born feral. Wild to the core. I couldn’t corral them. Hell, I don’t know if anyone could have. They needed a father, but that wasn’t going to happen. They were ten years old when they were playing with a friend on an abandoned property near where we lived. Stevie fell into the well and couldn’t get back up on his own. The water was deep enough that he had to tread water to keep his head free. The twins knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep that up for more than a few minutes in the cold water so Jacob went for help while Hud found a rope and lowered it down the well. But he wasn’t strong enough to pull Stevie up. He had to hold on and wait for Jacob to come back with help.”

  “Oh, my God,” Bailey breathed. “How long did that take?”

  “They were four miles away from the road and then Jacob had to hitchhike back into town. Took him two hours to get back to the well. Hudson waited two full hours holding on to the rope the whole time, promising Stevie he wouldn’t let him go.”

  Bailey could see the boy Hudson had been, bent over the well to keep eye contact with his friend and uttering assurance for as long as it took.

  “He still has the scars on his palms,” Carrie said. “All his life, everyone has always talked about good ol’ dependable Hud. Couldn’t find a more steady, responsible man if you tried. Some of which he took to heart, of course.”

  “I don’t see how he couldn’t,” Bailey murmured.

  Carrie nodded. “Although to be honest, he’s used it to his advantage. He lets responsibility always win out over a personal life. It’s easier, you see. Safer.”

  “Safer than what?”

  “Putting his heart out there, of course,” Carrie said. “It’s prevented him from letting go of any responsibility in favor of a life. Instead he holds on to his responsibilities with the same grip he held on to Stevie—at the expense of his own happiness.” She paused and met Bailey’s gaze. “You know what I’m saying?”

  “Yes,” Bailey said. “I believe I do.” Hud had made it about her, that she’d set the one-day-at-a-time rule, that it was she who didn’t want a real relationship.

  He’d hidden behind that.

  And she’d let him.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Carrie said. “You can always count on Hud. That’s the point of this story. Always, to the end. He doesn’t fail the people he cares about, ever.”

  “But he gives so much to everyone else in his life that there’s nothing left for him to give to someone… special,” Bailey said softly.

  Carrie touched her own nose and nodded. “He shuts women out,” she said. “It’s a definite fault. And as I’ve mentioned, he also pushes away those he especially cares about. You might have noticed that as well.”

  Bailey laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah. Little bit.”

  Carrie smiled sadly. “Are you going to fall in love with him, Bailey?”

  Bailey drew a quick breath. Was she? Was she really going to fall in love with Hudson Kincaid?

  She suspected she already had…

  “Whatever’s happening between us,” she finally answered, “it’s just until the mural is done. We both knew that. I have my graphic design work in Denver—”

  “Which could be done from anywhere.”

  “Maybe,” Bailey allowed. “But Hudson’s pretty busy here with the mountain and…”

  “Looking for his brother,” Carrie said.

  “Yes.”

  “And taking care of me.”

  “He would never say that was a burden,” Bailey said.

  “True,” Carrie agreed. “But we both know different.”

  Bailey shook her head. “No—”

  “If it wasn’t for me,” Carrie said, “they’d still be together. We’d never have left Jackson Hole. But we did, and that’s on me. Now Hudson’s alone and sad.” She broke off and bowed her head a moment, rubbing her temples.

  “Carrie?” Bailey rose from her chair. “Hey, you okay?”

  “Just a headache. Raising twins will do that to you. They’re hell on wheels.” Carrie sighed and lifted her head. “Hudson broke Jacob’s arm, did I tell you that? He was riding his bike on the back roads with Jacob on his handlebars when he hit a bump and sent Jacob flying to the moon. He hit a tree on the way.”

  “That must have been a long time ago,” Bailey said.

  “Just last week. Jacob’s in a cast. Hud grounded himself.”

  Bailey blinked at the sudden change in Carrie. Obviously something had switched and she was no longer in the present but once again locked in the past. Bailey reached for Carrie’s hand. “Maybe it’s time to rest.”

  “Nonsense,” Carrie said. “A mom with two wild heathens has no time for rest. No one else blamed Hud, of course, but he can’t be talked out of feeling responsible for Jacob. He never can. It’s the well all over again, only this time his scars are on the inside not the outside—”

  “Mom.”

  They both turned in surprise to the door.

  Hud stood in the doorway. Bailey couldn’t read his expression. He was really good at hiding his thoughts when he wanted to. In any case, he wasn’t exactly broadcasting good humor at the moment.

  “Excuse us a minute, Mom,” he said, and wrapped his hand around Bailey’s wrist.

  Nope, definitely not happy, she thought as he pulled her from the room. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “We weren’t gossiping about you.”

  “No?” he asked mildly as he pulled her out of hearing range of his mom, nudged her up against a wall, and leaned in close to kiss all the good sense out of her.

  Chapter 23

  When Hud pulled back, Bailey let out a breath. “I always forget things when you do that,” she said.

  Hud had his forearms flat on the wall on either side of her face and let his fingers cup her head. She was wearing a sky-blue ski cap today. The cap was rolled up at the edges, allowing him to see her new, thin strawberry-blond wisps—a few inches long now—that were starting to frame her face.

  The sight of them brought an ache to his chest so strong he couldn’t breathe for a moment.

  “I really didn’t mean to be talking about you with your mom,” she said. “But she was confused.”

  “She’s getting lost,” he said. “Lost to all of us and she’s right here.”

  Her eyes held a well of empathy. “She was telling me stories about you,” she said. “Good stories. Stories that made me…” She shook her head.

  “Made you what?” he asked, tilting her face up to his.

  She stared into his eyes and then dropped her gaze to his mouth before nibbling on her own. Unable to stop himself, he bent his head and brushed his lips over hers. “Made you what?” he asked again.

  “You know what,” she whispered, clinging to him.

  Yeah. He figured he did. His mom had a way of making him look like some damn hero when he wasn’t. Not even close. “You can’t believe everything she says,” he reminded her. “She gets a lot of things mixed up.”

  Bailey shook her head. “No. She never gets mixed up on how much she loves her boys. You’re her life, Hud. She’s quite clear on that. And I’m glad you’re not mad at me, but you are… something at me—” She broke off when her phone buzzed.

  She turned away slightly to answer the call and he thought about what she said. He was something all right. Although what that something was couldn’t be easily defined.

  Unsettled?

  Yeah, that was it. She was visiting his mom, which felt a whole lot… intimate. When had they gotten intimate?

  After you stripped her naked and licked her up and down like a lollipop…

  The memory of each and every time he’d had her in his arms burned bright in his brain, and he spent way too much time bringing out the memories to replay them in his head. Hud couldn’t erase thoughts of the way she opened up to him and gave him everything she had. And she did so with a heart-stopping generosity and vulnerability that slayed him even now.

  Still, by her own decree,
those times had been just that. No strings attached. He was damn lucky enough that she wasn’t finished with him yet, and he was just selfish enough to take what he could get from her.

  Bailey disconnected her call and slid her phone away. There was an odd stillness to her and her shoulders seemed to carry far too much weight. Reaching out, he turned her to him.

  She was pale, too pale, and her eyes shimmered brilliantly from unshed tears. His heart dropped to his toes. “What is it?”

  She shook her head and tried to turn away again but he held her firm. “Hey,” he said. “Talk to me.”

  Taking a shuddery inhale, she pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I’m still clear,” she whispered. “I had all those tests last Friday and the results are still clear. It was a milestone. Three straight months. On top of the first three months this makes six. I’m done with chemo, radiation, all of it. Really done.”

  At the words, a knot loosened in his chest, one he hadn’t even realized he’d had. “That’s the best news I’ve had in a long time,” he said, and reached for her.

  She sagged into him and cuddled in tight, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his chest with a shudder. In return he closed his eyes and just held her, absorbing the overwhelming relief coursing through him. This amazing, warm, irresistible, irreplaceable woman was okay. She was going to stay okay.

  That’s when he realized she was trembling. He pulled back slightly to look into her face.

  She shook her head. “Don’t ask me—”

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing, I just—” She shook her head again. “The call came from my mom. The doctor’s office called and since I wasn’t there, she gave the message to my mom.”

  “They’re not supposed to do that,” he said.

  “I’d given permission for my mom to get any information regarding my care and treatment and condition,” she said. “This is good news, it’s great news, but my mom said…”

  “What?” Hud asked a little tightly, already not liking what was coming next. If that woman had taken away the joy of this moment, he was going to have to strangle her.

  “She just wanted to remind me that I’m still in the danger zone.”

  Yeah, he was going to have to strangle her.

  “And it kinda just sucked a little bit of the joy out of it.” She sniffed and swiped at a tear like she was mad to find herself crying. “Three months ago I got the first clear I’ve ever had and to get it again now… It’s a great sign,” she said.

  “It’s a hell of a sign. And you’re going to keep getting clear results. You have to.” He smiled. “There’s no other option.”

  At that, she gave him a tremulous smile in return. “Thank you.”

  “For what? You’re the one who’s amazing,” he said.

  “For believing in me.”

  Like a punch to the gut. He didn’t break eye contact as he pulled her back in. “Always,” he whispered.

  “You’re so lucky,” she said, cheek to his chest. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my mom. I do,” she said, “but I don’t have the kind of bond with her that you have with your family—” She stopped abruptly when her voice broke.

  Ah, hell. “Bailey,” he breathed, dropping his forehead to hers, tightening his grip on her, and stroking her back when she let out a shuddery sigh.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”

  “I know,” he said, and kept hold of her.

  “It’s just that the weekends are becoming so much more real to me than the rest of the week.” She pressed her face into his throat. “And so much more important.”

  He tried not to react to that. Part of what had allowed him to let her in as much as he had was the hard reality that being here in Cedar Ridge wasn’t her life and never would be. Harsh as it sounded, it’d made her safe.

  But if she turned that upside down, if she stayed, he wasn’t sure what could possibly happen. He didn’t have the room in his life—or his heart—for one more string.

  He had too many strings now.

  “I’m just so grateful for this second chance,” she said. “So damn grateful. I want to make good use out of it, but it’s hard because I don’t know who I am or who I’m supposed to be.” She lifted her head and stared at him. “I made that list thinking it’d give me direction, but instead all it has done is confuse me. I don’t want to be just the list, you know?”

  “You’re not,” he said firmly. “You’re a beautiful, smart, wonderful, warm woman who brings heart and soul into the lives of everyone you meet. You’re not the list at all. You’re far more.”

  She pulled it out of her pocket, that damn little notebook. “I made a promise to this thing.”

  “That’s fine,” Hud said. “But that doesn’t mean it gets to define your life. You get to do that, Bailey. Only you.”

  She stared at him and nodded. “Yes, you’re right.”

  He cocked his head as if he couldn’t hear her. “What was that?”

  “You’re right.” She gave him a little push and he had to laugh.

  “I heard you the first time,” he admitted. “I just like the way that sentence sounds on your tongue.”

  She rolled her eyes. And then blinked. “Oh! I nearly forgot the reason I’m here tonight.” She pulled his phone from another pocket. “Gray’s the one who told me I could find you here.”

  Hudson grimaced. “You saw Gray?”

  “Yes, I went to the resort first,” she said. “To bring you the phone.”

  As she said it, his phone buzzed an incoming call. He took it from her and looked at the screen. Gray. Might as well get it over with, he thought, and answered.

  “You should probably stay off Facebook,” Gray suggested, and disconnected.

  The phone immediately buzzed again. He answered with a curt, “What?”

  “Check out Facebook,” Kenna said gleefully.

  “Delete it,” Hud said. “Whatever you dumbasses have done, delete it or I’ll find you and it won’t be pretty.” He disconnected and stared at Bailey.

  “Um.” She blinked. “Problem?”

  “You told Gray I lost my phone?”

  “No, I told him I got it by accident,” she said, and then paused. “What’s going on? Who was that?”

  He was scrolling through Facebook. “Gray,” he said, distracted. “And then Kenna.”

  “You threatened your sister?”

  Hudson looked at her. She was shocked and horrified. “You don’t have a sister,” he said.

  “No. No siblings period, you know that.”

  “Which means you wouldn’t understand the occasional need to strangle someone who shares your own blood. Shit,” he muttered. “Here it is.”

  “What?”

  “What Gray and Kenna are so gleeful about.” He turned his phone screen so she could see. He had the Cedar Ridge Resort’s Facebook page up. There was a post there from Hud.

  “I didn’t know you posted on Facebook,” she said.

  “I don’t,” he said. “Ever. Gray went on as me.”

  She started to read it.

  “Out loud,” he said.

  “Okay.” She turned the phone to a better angle. “‘Did you see Dancing with the Stars last night?’” she read. “‘The dancers were so beautiful it brought a tear to my eye… ’” She stopped and stared up at him, and then laughed.

  “You think this is funny?” he asked. “You gave Gray access to my phone and he’s a dick.”

  “And you’re upset that people will think you love Dancing with the Stars?”