Slow Heat
Page 17

 Jill Shalvis

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When Kenna shrugged and left, Bailey went to work. She separated out the steel bars and wood planking and was banging with a hammer on two pieces of steel that were stuck together when the doubts slid into her brain.
What had she been thinking? How did she possibly think she could handle building the scaffolding on her own? Or for that matter, the mural itself? What did she know about painting on such a scale? Panic hit her then, right in the gut, and she sat on the floor and pressed her forehead to her knees.
Don’t worry about staying inside the lines, darling…Bailey could still hear her grandma’s voice, joyful and in high spirits, even though she had already been fighting the cancer that would slowly drain the life out of her. But she’d never lost her positive nature, never.
Don’t worry about whether you can do it, Bailey-Bean. Just pretend you can. Pretend enough and it becomes real.
That was how her grandma had lived her life and it was how Bailey intended to live hers. Her grandma would want this for Bailey, and Bailey wanted it for herself. It was on her list. She wanted to paint a mural big and happy enough that her grandma could see it from whatever cloud she was sitting on, watching from above.
So she went back to hammering the shit out of the steel.
“What the hell?”
She whipped around and found Hud staring at her. He was in ski patrol gear today, looking official.
And officially hot.
She did her best to roll her tongue back into her mouth, and smiled. “Hey.”
“My sister said you were about to be stupid and not admit you needed help.”
“So you came by to get a front-row seat for the stupidity?” she asked.
He smiled. “You’re going to drive people crazy with all the banging.”
Pretend enough and it becomes real.
So Bailey lifted an eyebrow and pretended she was a sexy siren. “Now there’s a complaint I’ve never had before,” she said in her best Marilyn Monroe whisper.
He laughed.
Okay, so maybe she’d have to work on it. “So you, what, drew the short straw to go rescue the stupid chick?”
“No.”
“No?” she asked, a little breathless because he’d come inside the storage unit and had stopped only when they were toe to toe.
“I won you,” he said, his voice whiskey smooth.
Her good parts quivered. “What does that mean?”
“In our offices,” he said, “everything that has to be done each week goes up on a scheduling wall, which inevitably starts a fight over who’s going to do what, so we started a new thing this year. We throw darts for the chores. You were on the board this morning, or the scaffolding was. And you’ll have to trust me on this, moving and building the scaffolding was the easiest thing on that entire wall, which meant we were all fighting for it.” He smiled. “I won you.”
The way he kept saying that had her heart doing a little squishy dance. And there were some other reactions, too, decidedly south of her heart. Had been ever since that kiss…
Was she the only one feeling it? Because that would be embarrassing. She looked down at herself and realized she was wearing approximately twenty layers of clothing to stay warm and that she was also now sweating thanks to the exertion and most likely also Hud’s effortless hotness. She probably looked like the Pillsbury Doughboy.
A melting Pillsbury Doughboy. So much for being a sex siren.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s on my list.”
Hud reached for his radio and put in a request for a few helping hands. He’d just put the radio back on his hip when it went off, something job related. He listened for a beat and then began barking orders. He’d no sooner slid the radio back into place than his cell phone rang. He grimaced and answered that too. He said something about how they needed at least three staff members in each of the outposts today and yes, he knew the fencing on the backside of the mountain needed to be replaced stat and that he was on it as soon as he checked the staff rosters to make sure everyone was able to take their required breaks.
There was more, a lot more. And it all boggled Bailey. His life boggled her. The reality of his job and the responsibilities of his day-to-day life here on the mountain were dizzying. “Do you ever get a day off?” she asked.
“No.”
“That’s… awful.”
He reacted by not reacting. Shock.
His phone buzzed again and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It’s my mom and I have no idea why she’s FaceTiming me.” He hit ANSWER and then there came a lot of white noise.
Hud blinked and held his phone farther away as if he couldn’t quite process what he was seeing. “Mom.”
Bailey peeked at the phone. It looked as if Carrie was holding it to show off her plain white ceiling.
“Mom,” Hud said again.
“Well if that isn’t the silliest thing,” came Carrie’s voice. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to speak into.”
Hud rubbed a hand over his eyes, like maybe he was getting a headache. “Mom, just hold the phone up in front of you.”
There was a lot of movement and then there was a man. Older, bald, a little round. He wore wire-rimmed glasses, a button-down shirt, and… no pants. Just bright red boxers.
“Who the hell are you?” Hud stared at the phone. “What’s going on?”
“Oh,” Carrie said, and then the view of the man went upside down. They caught a quick flash of the ceiling again and then saw Carrie’s smiling face. “There you are, baby. How are you?”
Hud was clearly not feeling friendly. “Why is there a man with no pants in your room?” he asked in a quiet but scary, badass voice.
Carrie laughed. “That’s Terrance. I’m teaching him how to play cards.”
Hud’s jaw worked a moment. “Tell me you’re not teaching him how to play strip poker.”
“Well, of course not! Good Lord, Hud. I wouldn’t do that.”
Hud relaxed marginally.
“I mean, it’s not even dark yet,” Carrie said. “You can’t play strip poker before dark.”
Hud appeared to grind his back teeth together for a moment. “Then explain why he’s not wearing pants.”
“Well, baby, you’re still a young one, but when a man gets older, he…” She tilted her head. “How should I put this?”
Terrance stuck his face next to Carrie’s. “I don’t like to crowd my bits,” he said.
Carrie smiled at him. “Yes,” she said. “That’s a good way to put it.”
Hud closed his eyes briefly. “I’m at work, Mom. I’ll check in with you later.”
“Okay, baby.”
Hud looked Terrance in the eye. “Air out your bits in your own room, soldier, you hear me?”
Terrance sighed. “I hear you.”
Hud disconnected and stared at the phone for a long beat. “Jesus,” he finally muttered, looking tired.
“Your mom’s quite a character,” Bailey said.
“She’s sure something,” he agreed.
Bailey looked him over, wishing she could take a load off for him. “Hud?”
“Yeah?”