My Kind of Wonderful
Page 21

Jacob stared at him for a long beat and then without another word, walked away. He didn’t look back.
When he realized his phone was vibrating with an incoming call, he sat straight up in bed, heart aching. But it was nearly a decade later, time to get over that shit. Besides, it was four in the morning on Saturday and the job needed his attention, which made him groan. Two hours of sleep wasn’t going to cut it, but what choice did he have? He scrubbed a hand down his face, still feeling the loss of his twin as if no time had gone by at all.
Dammit, Jacob.
Back then, on that long-ago day, Hud had nearly gone after him, but in the end he hadn’t. He couldn’t leave his mom and he wouldn’t leave the rest of the family either.
True to his word, through an online bank, Jacob had set up an automatic payment that dropped into their mom’s account every single month since he’d been gone.
Which at times had been Hud’s only indication that Jacob was still alive.
At first, hurting at missing out on the adventure with Jacob, Hud had gone for the closest thing—the police academy. He’d become a cop and had also worked his way up through the resort to run ski patrol.
And it was ski patrol calling him.
Mother Nature had dumped another six inches of snow since he’d fallen into bed, which meant he needed to get with his avalanche patrol crew and check the mountain.
By dawn they’d deemed the place safe to open for the day. Hud sent his guys off to breakfast before they had to be back out there setting lines and patrolling when the resort opened.
“You’re not coming with?” Mitch asked inside the cafeteria, surprised when Hud didn’t head toward the food with them.
“Got something to take care of,” he said.
Mitch’s easy smile faded. “News on Jacob?”
“No.” Nothing new to report on that front was better than bad news given that Jacob was still completely incommunicado, something that both frustrated and scared him. “Nothing new,” he said to Mitch. “I’ll meet up with you.”
He headed into the cafeteria kitchen. It was hustling and bustling, people cooking and preparing food to support the resort for the day. His nose was assaulted with the scent of coffee, bacon, cinnamon rolls… all of it making his mouth water.
“Hudson,” a female voice purred.
He turned to find Quinn, one of the chefs and the ex Gray had mentioned the week before. She smiled warmly. “You’ve been avoiding me,” she said with her usual frankness. Like it didn’t even matter that the last time he’d seen her, she’d chucked his own phone at his head. Her smile and teasing tone promised all was forgiven.
“Just busy,” he said. The utter truth. She was beautiful and fun and he told himself if he’d had a spare second, he might have taken her up on the promise in her eyes, even if it’d lead to another blowout. But as of two weeks ago and one blue-eyed muralist, he hadn’t given another woman a single thought.
Quinn shook her head and called him on his bullshit. “You’re such a liar, Hud. No one’s that busy.”
And that was an argument they’d had a million times and the reason he couldn’t go there again with her. “I just need to get some stuff to go,” he said, gesturing to the food.
“Want me to take a quick break and eat with you? It’s been a while.” She smiled. “I’ll even resist throwing your phone at your head when it goes off the whole time.”
“Quinn, I’m on the run. I’m sorry.”
“Sorrier than you know,” she murmured, and shrugged. “You’re the one missing out, Hud.”
This he knew firsthand. He selected what he wanted, put it all in a bag, and swiped his card. He didn’t really know why he was doing this. It would let Bailey in on a little secret, tell her something that he didn’t particularly want her to know.
That he’d been thinking of her. That he’d hoped she’d show up and not give up—although he knew she’d at least indeed shown up, as he’d checked the employee housing log.
Insanity, really, all of it. He’d kissed her last week half hoping that it would burn out the embers. Instead it’d done the opposite.
Yes, he’d wanted her gone. But now he just wanted her.
“So who is she?” Quinn asked.
No one he wanted to discuss.
Quinn shook her head, annoyed now. “What is it with you Kincaids? You’re all wild and crazy and fun, and then one day a woman captures your heart and it’s game over in a damn blink.”
Was that true? It sure had been for Gray and Aidan.
But not him. It didn’t happen that fast, couldn’t happen that fast. He wasn’t going to allow it to happen at all. He didn’t have the time in his life for this.
You could make time, a little voice said. A voice he steadfastly ignored.
Bailey awoke with a start, completely discombobulated. She sat straight up in a bed that wasn’t hers, a gasp on her lips.
She’d been dreaming again, the recurring nightmare where she was back in the hospital hearing the results of her tests, only they weren’t good.
“The treatment didn’t work,” her doctor said solemnly, so unlike last time when the woman had practically danced a jig in her excitement to impart the good news to Bailey. “It’s time to make sure your affairs are in order…”
A knock on the door made her jump. She got the feeling it was the second or third time, which solved the mystery of what had woken her up.
She was in her efficiency apartment on the resort property. A place she’d been given for the weekends over the next two months as she worked on the mural.
Which of course was no longer going to happen since she’d come up here to tear down the scaffolding, apologize to Carrie, and paint the wall white again, hiding her grid.
Or… get over herself and her doubts and paint the mural.
Another knock on the door—whoever was out there had clearly lost patience with waiting.
She sighed and slid out of the bed. She went up on tiptoe and peered through the peephole. Damn. She sank back onto her bare feet and stared at the wood, heart pounding.
“I can hear you breathing,” Hudson said.
An entire week and still just the sound of his voice made her nipples happy. “You cannot.” Dammit. She bit her tongue to keep herself silent.
“Come on, Bailey. Open up and let me have it. You know you want to.”
Yeah, far too much.
“I have coffee, donuts, and bacon,” he cajoled. “I wasn’t sure what your poison was so I tried to cover all the basic food groups: caffeine, sugar, and trans fats. If none of those work, I’ll…”
“What?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you about Jacob.”
She stilled and then whipped open the door. “You will?”
He strode in and kicked the door shut behind him, slouching onto the couch, making himself comfortable. “No.”
“So you lied?” she asked, shocked.
He looked amused at her disbelief. “I needed to see you.” He handed over the coffee.
Eyes still narrowed, she greedily took the coffee and sipped because the caffeine was calling her name.
Huh. Sugar and a shot of vanilla cream, just the way she liked it.