My Kind of Wonderful

  “I know this painting isn’t going to fix us,” Carrie said softly, “or even put them back together. I’m not that far gone to believe in miracles. But I want to help. I need to help.”

  “And you think a mural will do that?” Bailey asked quietly.

  “It will remind all of them of what once was,” Carrie said. “That they are the most whole when they’re together.”

  “That’s a tall order for a mural,” Bailey said.

  “I know, but some of this is my fault,” Carrie said. “Hud and Jacob fought and now Jacob’s gone and Hud has all these regrets. And because of it, he pushes away the people he cares about most. He’s good at it too. I’m their mom, Bailey. I have to do this for them. Please say you’ll be the one to help me do this for them.”

  Bailey knew a little something about regrets. Or a lot. But this whole thing was way out of her wheelhouse.

  “I promise I’m not crazy,” Carrie said, and then grimaced. “Well, okay, so I’m a little crazy. But that has nothing to do with this. I saw your boards on Pinterest. You’ve done some beautiful work.”

  Maybe, but up until now Bailey’s painting had been for herself, given to friends and family. None of her paintings was bigger than a bedroom wall, nothing commissioned, and nothing as big as the wall at the resort. She’d been painting by night in her grandma’s memory for years because it brought her grandma, whom she missed with all her heart and soul, back to life in her mind. She’d been doing that while working as a graphic artist by day for her bread and butter. “You know that this would be my first mural,” Bailey said. “Right?”

  Carrie nodded. “Yes, but I figured it was just math, right?”

  Bailey choked out a laugh. “Well, yeah, in theory…”

  “That’s good enough for me.” Carrie reached for Bailey’s hand. “The resort needs this. The kids need this. I need this, and I’m getting the sense that maybe you do too.”

  This woman had two young boys, one who’d possibly died and one locked in grief. Truly awful. She gently squeezed Carrie’s fingers, having no doubt in her mind that Carrie and her young son Hud indeed needed this.

  But did Bailey?

  Given that for the last ten years, her sole focus had been on staying alive… Okay, yes, she wanted this, but that wasn’t a reason to give in to the very nice but possibly very crazy lady. But Bailey liked the idea of helping people. Was this the right way to go about it, though? One thing she’d learned after all she’d been through—there were options, always. Her doctor had taught her that, offering her choices at every roadblock they’d hit. This was an option and an opportunity.

  “Say yes,” Carrie said, clasping her hands in front of her hopefully. “Say you’ll do this to help my boys.”

  “Your boys don’t need any help,” a male voice said. A smooth yet gravelly voice, and Bailey froze before slowly turning to face…

  Mountain Hottie.

  Chapter 3

  Hud had been surprised when he’d gotten to his mom’s room to hear her talking about him and Jacob. Then he’d heard the actual words and he’d stopped short.

  She felt that what had happened between him and Jacob was her fault.

  Her sadness and regret pummeled at him and wrenched him back to a time he didn’t want to think about. What had happened wasn’t her fault, not by a long shot.

  It was his.

  The fight with Jacob had been the worst day of Hud’s life, and that was saying something since there’d been a few doozies before and since. But that day Hud had said things to his brother, things that couldn’t be taken back, and he knew he could never make it right between them again.

  That was his cross to bear. Not his mom’s. But apparently she didn’t see it that way. Just as she didn’t see him as a grown man. In her eyes, he was still a child. That wasn’t her fault either. It was the dementia. Just the thought had his chest tightening. She’d been through so much, and apparently life wasn’t done messing with her yet.

  Nor him. Because the woman sitting at his mom’s side was no other than the pretty cherry-red–capped skier from the resort. Bailey. Hud stepped into the room and looked at his mom. She was sitting up, dressed, wearing lip gloss and smiling. For a quick beat, he stared at her, so relieved he couldn’t get a word out. She looked good today. Happy. Even playful—although that never boded well for him. “Mom,” he murmured affectionately, and bent to kiss her cheek.

  “Hey, baby,” she murmured back, cupping his cheek. “Did you do your homework already?”

  Ignoring that, he turned to Bailey and lifted a brow.

  To her credit, she met his gaze head-on. “Hello again,” she said with an easy smile.

  “You two know each other?” his mom asked in delight.

  “We met on the mountain earlier,” Hud said.

  “He rescued me,” Bailey said, eyes smiling into Hud’s. “Fixed my ski.”

  “Well that makes this even better,” Carrie said. “She’s an artist. I hired her to paint a mural. For you, Hud.”

  Because he hadn’t taken his eyes off the woman in the chair, he watched her blink in surprise and her mouth fall open in shock.

  “Wait,” she said slowly, dividing a gaze between Hud and his mom. “You’re her son? But you’re not—”

  He gave a small shake of his head and she broke off from finishing her sentence. But you’re not a little boy…

  Nope. “Mom, we’ve gone over this,” he said quietly.“You can’t just hire people over the Internet, okay? They might not be what you think and you could get ripped off.”

  “Bailey’s not going to rip me off,” his mom said, frowning. “And you’re being incredibly rude. Sit down. You’re growing like a weed. You’re so tall you’re giving me a neck kink.”

  Hud didn’t budge.

  His mom sighed. “I don’t know which of you is more stubborn, you or Jacob.”

  Hud knew. It was Jacob. By far.

  “Well if you’re not going to sit, at least stop looking like you’re out for blood,” his mom said. “I sought her out. I hired her.”

  “And now we un-hire her,” he said. He looked at Bailey. “How much?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, sparks practically coming out her pretty ears. “I wouldn’t take your money.”

  “I’ve seen her work on the Internet, Hud,” his mom said. “She’s decorated nurseries for babies. She did this magical forest in someone’s nursery and it was…” She sighed in wonder. “Well, magical.”

  Hud turned to Bailey. Her smile was unguarded, easy. Contagious. And then there was her gaze, deep enough for a man to drown in. And in that single heartbeat, he felt the same urge he’d felt the first time he’d seen her. The urge to pull her in and stare into those eyes. They had something, he thought. An inexplicable chemistry. Sparks—and not coming out her ears this time but instead bouncing between them. “Mom, we’re not in the market for a mural at the resort right now.” Then he again turned to Bailey. “A word?”

  “Sure.” She got up and, at his gesture, went ahead of him. She was still in her snow gear, minus the red helmet and the sunshine-yellow ski jacket. Without the bulky parka, she was a tiny thing. Bailey was petite and, as he’d suspected, a little fragile looking. Her patterned ski pants were cargo-style with a lot of clear pockets that she’d filled. A packet of tissues. A baggie of nuts. A lip balm… He was still staring at the stuff and absolutely not at her sweet little ass when she turned to face him in the hallway and… arched a sassy brow.

  He laughed low in his throat but it was at himself. “You can see why this can’t happen.”

  “That’s more than a word,” she said.

  Smartass. And hell, he loved a smartass, but he couldn’t joke, not about this. “You can see she’s not well,” he said. “And even if she was, there’s no budget for a mural.”

  “Yes, I get that she has problems.” She hugged herself and looked away. “We all do. But don’t worry, because if I do this, I won’t accept payment for it. I’ve
already got a paying job Monday through Friday, but I could be here on the weekends. All I’d need is room and board, like any of your other seasonal employees. It shouldn’t take more than two months to get the mural done right.”

  The words two and months stuck in Hud’s brain. That was a hell of a long time to have her around.

  “Oh, that’s a wonderful idea,” his mom called out from her room.

  Hud’s stomach sank because, hell no, it wasn’t a wonderful idea. Having to see this sexy adorable whirlwind for the next two months of weekends was the opposite of a wonderful idea. He leaned past Bailey—who still smelled so good he nearly pushed his face into her neck—and pulled his mom’s door shut.

  “Fine,” she yelled from behind it. “But don’t think you can sneak anything by me! No funny business, Hudson Kincaid. You still can’t date until you’re old enough to shave!”

  Hud closed his eyes for a beat and then opened them to find Bailey’s gaze on his, her own filled with concern.

  Not pity.

  He had to give it to her, he definitely appreciated that.

  “She’s pretty amazing,” she said quietly. “And she loves you very much.”

  “Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand down his face because, damn, she was just as sweet as she looked. “Look, I’ll pay your expenses for today, okay? Just invoice me. I get that you’ve been through a tough time but—”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You get nothing.”

  He paused and considered his words carefully. “I meant because my mom dragged you up here.”

  “Oh.” Looking slightly mollified, she nodded. “But the answer is still no.”

  “No?” he repeated.

  “No, I’m not going to invoice you for my time,” she said just as an orderly came down the hall pushing a cart filled with supplies. This forced Bailey to back up and give the guy room to get by, which was fine except she backed right into Hud, pressing him between the wall and her soft, warm, curvy body.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, stepping on his toe and bumping her sweet ass into his crotch. “Sorry—”

  He stilled her with his hands on her hips, holding her there until the orderly had passed.

  The sound of her sucking in air filled his ears, along with blood rushing through him at the full body contact.

  When she could, she stepped clear and turned to face him, her eyes filled with awareness and shock.

  Join my club, he thought.

  “Okay, then,” she finally said, looking more than a little dazed. “I’m just going to go. Please tell your mom it was lovely to meet her.”

  And then she was gone, leaving him to let out a low laugh. Clearly it hadn’t been lovely to meet him. For some reason that little crystal clear snub kept him smiling to himself for the rest of the day.

  Two days later Bailey was in her office—the living room of her apartment—staring at her two large computer screens and trying to finish up a job for a local health-food store. She’d been commissioned to create a new logo that would go on everything from T-shirts to menus to coasters. The job had been a huge coup and she’d been hugely excited when she’d landed it over several other, bigger graphic design companies.

  But all she could think about was the resort, specifically one Hudson Kincaid, and how his lean, hard, hot body had been pressed up against hers. She could still feel his warmth and strength…

  She’d ordered supplies for the mural, which she’d assured herself had nothing to do with Hudson.

  And she’d meant it when she’d told him she wouldn’t be invoicing him. In spite of the fact that she was—and would be for a long time to come—digging out of medical debt, she was doing this one pro bono. She was doing it for Carrie, the woman who maybe couldn’t keep her mind straight but loved her boys so very much.

  Because it absolutely was not for Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy Grumpy Ass.

  Bailey glanced over at the small picture of her grandma on her desk and smiled. “And maybe it’s also a little bit for you,” she said, blowing a kiss to the woman she missed every single day.

  Behind her, the front door opened. A heartbeat later, two hands settled on her shoulders and a mouth brushed a kiss into her hair. “You’re tense.” Fingers gently kneaded the knots. “You should take a break.”

  With a sigh she turned to face Aaron, and his handsome face creased into a smile.

  “I don’t need a break,” she said. “And what are you doing here?”

  “You usually nap in the afternoons,” he said. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything.”

  She did her best to hold back the temper because he was right. For years she’d napped in the afternoons because she’d barely had the energy or stamina to make it through the day. “I haven’t napped in months.”

  “You’re pale, you’re tense, and you’ve got shadows under your eyes,” he said.

  “Aw. You say the nicest things.” She turned back to her computers, uncomfortable with her conflicting emotions, which had her torn between hugging him and strangling him.

  “Bailey, honey, we both know you went back to work too soon. You’re pushing yourself too hard—”

  “Aaron, stop.”

  “Just because you dumped me doesn’t mean we’re no longer friends,” he said.

  He said this mildly. He said everything mildly. Just as he’d loved her mildly. She knew she owed him, that she should be grateful for all he’d done for her, and she truly was.

  But she had so many emotions swirling through her at all times, wild uncontrolled emotions, and sometimes she resented that he didn’t.

  “Don’t ask me to watch you run yourself into the ground,” he said quietly.

  “I’m not asking you to do anything.” She took her hands off the keyboard, mostly to resist the urge to chuck it at his head—a terrible thought and a terrible instinct that she hated herself for—as she slowly turned to face the first and only man she’d ever loved.

  She’d fallen for him on her first day of ninth grade. She’d just had her first chemo treatment for non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma and had been feeling sick, but she’d refused to miss the first day of school. One hour into biology, staring at the slide on the big screen in front of the classroom showing a dissected frog, and she knew she wasn’t going to make it out of there in time.

  She tossed her lunch and what felt like her guts… right into Aaron’s backpack as he held it open for her, somehow managing to hold her hair back as well.

  He’d been holding her hair back ever since. Metaphorically. But God, how she wished that he’d show her an emotion, any emotion other than empathy and pity. She’d wasted a lot of time yearning for that.

  Too much time.

  Wanting him to stop treating her like a piece of fragile glass that might shatter, wanting him to be wildly passionate about… something, anything. Yearning to see him express a strong feeling, even temper.

  Aching for him to grab her and take her against the wall…

  “How about lunch?” he asked.

  “Ex-fiancés don’t do lunch.”

  “Maybe not, but you’re not just my ex-fiancée,” he pointed out.

  Their eyes met, his revealing uncertainty. He wasn’t sure if they were still friends, not after what she’d witnessed a month ago.

  He’d tried to discuss it with her but she’d refused.

  What he did, who he did, was no longer any of her business.

  Then he caught sight of what was spread out on her second screen—a draft of the mural.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “I’ve been commissioned to paint a mural up at Cedar Ridge,” she said, and watched him calculate the two-hour travel distance from Denver to Cedar Ridge. Watched as he started to shake his head.

  “Not your call,” she said. “I plan to do this.”

  “Does your plan include running yourself into the ground then? Because that’s what will happen if you work twenty-four-seven.” He softened, his voice gentle. “Honey, you still have to
take care of yourself.”

  “I know that,” she said. God, did he think she didn’t? “I realize I cheated death, Aaron. I get that. And because of it, I’m going to live like there’s no tomorrow. The cancer isn’t going to come back, because I won’t let it. But if the worst happens and it manages to win in spite of everything, well then at least I’ll have