My Kind of Wonderful Read online

  calculating how fast he could get himself and Bailey in and out and then up to his place for a quickie without anyone noticing.

  And that’s when he got the text from Max regarding Jacob.

  Our boy’s finally confirmed safe and sound. Or at least as sound as he gets.

  Hud let out a breath and felt a slight release in the knot in his chest as he entered the conference room. It was empty except for Aidan, who was pulling sodas out of the small refrigerator on the other side of the room.

  Aidan straightened at the sight of Hud and gestured to the table. “I caught Gray and Penny on the table in the staff room last week. You don’t think they’ve been in here too, do ya?”

  They both eyed the table and shuddered.

  “They need to keep it to his office,” Aidan said. “Like normal couples.”

  “Is that why your office door’s always locked now?” Hud asked.

  Aidan smiled. “Hell yeah. And you’re one to talk. There’s been plenty of times when your door’s been locked over the past two months.”

  Yeah, the best two months of his life, which were just about over.

  Aidan, taking in his expression, got serious. “What? What did I just say?”

  Penny came into the room. “Looks like you’ve just told him that Santa isn’t real.”

  “I was ragging on him about Bailey,” Aidan said. “Which started, FYI, because of you and Gray.”

  “Aw,” Penny said. “Using us as sterling examples of being the perfect Kincaid couple?”

  “Bailey and I aren’t like that,” Hud said, finding his voice.

  “Really?” Penny asked, tongue in cheek. “So when you’re holed up with her in your suite or your office, you’re what, just checking each other for ticks? Because the couple who fights off Lyme disease stays together? Is that it?”

  “We’re not like that,” Hud repeated. “Not in the way you seem to think.”

  “And which way is that?” Penny asked.

  “Married.” Hud looked at Aidan. “Or nearly married.”

  “Okay,” Penny said slowly. “So for the record, what would you say you and Bailey are like? And be careful here, Hud, because I’ve seen how she looks at you. She’s not just messing around. She’s a keeper for you.”

  Hud took that in and told himself Penny was wrong. Because Bailey was just messing around. That was the whole point. “She’s not a keeper to me,” he said. “She’s not staying around after the mural is finished. There’s no reason for her to.”

  Because he hadn’t given her one and he knew it. He opened his mouth to correct himself, and maybe to throw himself on Penny’s mercy and ask her how the hell he might turn this around when a sound had him looking to the doorway.

  Gray and Kenna stood there holding pizza boxes. Just behind Kenna stood Lily and Hud’s mom.

  And with them, holding Carrie’s hand, was Bailey.

  Gray cleared his throat, gave Hud a you-are-such-an-idiot look, and strode in, setting the pizzas on the table.

  Kenna did the same and looked at Gray. “If you and Penny have messed around on this table like, ever, I want to know right now.”

  “The table is a messing-around-free zone,” Penny said, voice too bright.

  Hud hadn’t moved. Neither had Bailey. But she moved then, taking Carrie to a chair and gently setting her up with a soda and a paper plate for her pizza.

  “Thanks,” Carrie said and hugged Bailey tight. “I hope you’re not going to let my idiot son ruin your appetite.”

  “No,” Bailey said, voice quiet but calm. “But I can’t stay. I have to… go.”

  Hud closed his eyes because he truly was an idiot. When he opened them again, Gray had moved to Bailey and was hugging her. “You should know that the Kincaids have a brain/mouth disease,” he said to her. “It makes us say stupid shit we don’t mean.”

  Bailey managed a small smile that made Hud feel even worse.

  Aidan said nothing at all but kissed Bailey gently on the cheek.

  Hud finally found his feet, which took him to the door, getting there just as Bailey did. He studied the emotion swirling in her eyes. “Leave,” he said.

  Bailey took a step back but he caught her hand. “Not you.”

  “Us,” Penny said and nudged Gray and Aidan to the door.

  “But there’s pizza,” Gray complained.

  “No,” Bailey said. “No one’s leaving except me.” She held up a hand when everyone protested in unison. “I’ve got some colors already mixed up. I need to use them before they dry.”

  And then she was gone and everyone left in the room glared darts at Hud.

  Or so he assumed since he stood there facing the door where Bailey had vanished. He could feel the weight of his family’s various emotions behind him—anger, disappointment, frustration—all stabbing him in the back. “Well?” he said. “Someone say something. I know you’re dying to.”

  “Fine,” Gray said. “I’ll go first. Good going, Ace—you’re even more of a dickwad than Aidan here was when he met Lily.”

  “Hey,” Aidan said. “I wasn’t a dickwad.” He turned to Lily. “Was I?”

  She patted him on the arm.

  Aidan blinked. “Is that a yes?”

  “Well…” she said evasively.

  Hud was still staring at the door. He shook his head. What just happened?

  “In a nutshell?” Gray asked, making Hud realize he’d spoken out loud. “You told the woman you love that you don’t love her.”

  “And then you missed your opportunity to take it back,” Kenna said. “The window for those things is really short. It’s like the three-second rule when you drop food. You have three seconds to pick it up and eat it or you have to throw it away, even if it’s a cookie.” She shook her head. “You threw it all away, Hud.”

  He opened his mouth and then shut it and turned to Penny, the only logical one in the room.

  She smiled at him sadly. “I’m afraid they’re right this time. This one time…”

  Bailey went straight to the mural. Her security blanket. She’d just gotten to the base of the wall and climbed up to the second level of scaffolding when she felt someone right behind her. She turned and faced—perfect—Hud. Because what had just happened wasn’t humiliating enough.

  “Bailey—”

  “No,” she said, pointing at him, voice shaking with the depths of her fury. “Don’t. You don’t have to say anything, I get it.”

  She was just glad she hadn’t spilled her guts in the past two weeks, revealed any more of her feelings for him. That was her saving grace, she told herself. He had no idea how much he’d hurt her and it was going to stay that way.

  He studied her for a beat and she didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t the words that came out of his mouth.

  “I told you I wouldn’t regret what we shared,” he said, his words insidiously quiet, his voice flat.

  She hated that most of all. “That you did,” she agreed. Hell if she’d thank him for it. She had to fight to keep her expression just as nonexistent as his—not easy when her heart had been cracked in half. “How nice for you to be able to turn your feelings on and off so easily,” she managed coolly.

  He didn’t answer, not that she’d expected him to. She concentrated on dragging air in and out of her lungs until she no longer had the urge to cry. Because no way would she allow him to see her weak. She was going to stand strong if it was the last thing she did. Turning away from him, she faced the mural.

  But Hud didn’t go. She ignored him for as long as she could, which wasn’t very long. The weak winter sun behind them cast their shadows on the mural, his a lot taller and broader than hers. “You’re in my light,” she said.

  “We need to talk.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. He was in ski patrol gear, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. His expression was dialed to dark and brooding, and his shoulders were set in grim determination. “I think we’ve talked enough,” she said.

&n