“You have my vote,” Aidan said.
Kenna eyed him. “You just want more beer.”
“Yes,” he said seriously. “But I also want to see you smile.”
“I vote for you too,” Hud told her. “On one condition. I’m going to need a co-coach for the ski team.”
Kenna turned to him. “Me?”
“Well, I didn’t mean the Easter Bunny.”
Kenna stared down at him very solemnly. Heartbreakingly earnest. “You want me to co-coach with you.”
“God yes,” he said. “Have you met any high school girls?” He shuddered. “They’re terrifying.”
She blinked and then gave him a smile that seemed more than a little rusty.
“Cool?” he asked.
“Cool,” she whispered. She carefully climbed down off her chair and filled up his beer to the tippy top.
“Hey,” Aidan said. “What about me? I voted for you first, chica.”
She filled up Aidan’s glass too.
Gray raised a brow.
“First you have to say you would’ve voted for me if I’d asked,” she said.
“Whatever you want,” Gray said.
She laughed in delight. “Whatever I want?”
“Yes,” Gray said. “Because you are to me what high school girls are to Hud. Terrifying.”
She laughed again. “Really?”
“Always,” Gray said fervently. “And another always? Me backing you. In anything and everything, Kenna. All of us,” he said. “You have our vote no matter what. You hear me?”
She stared at him for a long beat, her eyes suspiciously shiny. She hated crying, rarely if ever did it. The last time Hud saw her cry was ten years ago when her cat had gotten out and been stolen.
Except it hadn’t really been stolen. The truth was, a coyote had killed it. He and Jacob had stayed up all night burying the thing so Kenna would never know.
Kenna let out a long breath, nodded at Gray, and dipped her head so that they couldn’t see her face. She then tipped up the pitcher and drank the last of the beer right out of it.
“Seriously?” Gray asked.
She swiped her mouth and smiled. “That’s ‘seriously, coach’ to you.” She flashed a grin none of them had seen in far too long. “Next round’s on me,” she said, and headed to the bar.
Aidan gave Gray a punch to the shoulder.
“Ow,” Gray said. “And what the fuck?”
“I’ve been telling you all she needs is something to do, to feel self-worth again. Stop babying her. You should know by now she hates it.”
Gray snatched Aidan’s beer and flipped him off while downing it.
Aidan turned to Hud, tossing him a brown bag he pulled from his backpack.
“What’s this?” Hud asked distrustfully. He had good reason not to trust a damn thing Aidan handed him in a bag.
Aidan smirked. “Worried?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“Jeez, give a guy a snake one time…”
Gray grinned. “That was a lot of fun.”
Asshole brothers. Hud took the bag with two fingers. “If this is a snake, you’d better say your last prayers.”
Aidan laughed. “That was ten years ago and it was a fucking garter snake, man. Harmless.”
“Harmless my ass. It bit me!”
“It did not,” Aidan said. “You just told everyone that because you screamed like a banshee.”
“I repeat,” Hud said stiffly, “you tossed a snake into my lap.”
“You nearly shit your pants.”
That he hadn’t was solely due to the fact that he’d been sitting next to Trina Anderson, at the time the hottest thing he’d ever seen. He’d been working his way up to getting in her pants when Aidan had ever so helpfully screwed him over. “So I have one fear,” he said now. “So what? Everyone’s afraid of something.”
“You’re afraid of two things,” Aidan said. “Open the bag.”
Hud shook it. Nothing hissed or even moved. Considering it safe, he peered into the bag. “Shit.”
Aidan grinned as Hud pulled out the pair of siren-red male bikini briefs from Big Dog. On the fly it read:
CHOKING HAZARD!
Hud stared down at them while Aidan laughed his fool ass off. The ongoing gag, of course. Now he had to wear these tomorrow or suffer the consequences. Way back, they’d started out with obnoxious ties. Hud missed those days, but Penny had vehemently objected after Gray had been forced to wear a tie with a large penis on it to a bank meeting.
So far Gray had managed to keep this new trend from her, but it was only a matter of time.
Aidan was still grinning, clearly quite proud of himself because he knew Hud wore boxers and hated briefs with the same intensity he reserved for snakes and spinach.
“Notice the timing,” Aidan pointed out helpfully. “You have to wear them tomorrow—Bailey will be up tomorrow,” he added, cackling like he was bent over his cauldron.
“Be afraid,” Hud said. “Because you’re next.”
Aidan didn’t look too worried.
Hud shoved the briefs back into the brown bag, flipped Aidan off, and finished his beer.
Bailey didn’t get out of Denver Friday night as planned. She’d had a late-afternoon doctor’s appointment—a big visit. Three months had passed since her first all clear—six months total since she’d last shown cancer the door. She desperately wanted to hear that the second three-month check confirmed the same but she knew the drill. It was a hurry-up-and-wait thing. It’d be Monday or Tuesday of next week before she got the results.
Still, as always, her oncologist had given her a list of options of what could happen and how they’d deal with it. Mostly, and most importantly, the doctor felt optimistic that Bailey was still in the clear.
Bailey liked that option best herself and decided to take a page from her grandma’s book.
Worrying about something is like wishing for it to happen. Just pretend it’s all good. Pretend enough and it becomes real.
So she set her alarm for four in the morning and at the asscrack of dawn on Saturday, she hit the road, arriving at Cedar Ridge with the first hint of the sun.
She parked and went to stand in front of her wall. Her breath crystalized in front of her face and she was glad the day was supposed to get up near fifty degrees. She didn’t want her paints to freeze.
She tilted her head back and took in the mural. The tree was finished, its roots stretching across the bottom of the wall, the branches and leaves looking alive as they took over the top. Along the way there were spots for the five Kincaid siblings to appear. Gray sat on a throne—his ski helmet his crown and his staff a ski pole. Penny sat in his lap with one arm around his neck and the other on a ski pole as well. Skis adorned all four of their feet.
When Bailey shifted slightly, so did the image—as planned. Depending on how you looked at them, they were either sitting looking at each other or sharing poles as they skied as one.
Aidan was in search and rescue gear, hanging off a branch of the tree like Tarzan. Lily was tucked under one arm, and the two of them were looking at each other and laughing.
Everything to the right of that was still only penciled in and even then only up to Hud. She’d drawn him in ski patrol gear complete with his backpack right in the middle of a crazy jump off the top of the tree—which she’d covered in snow so that it also looked like a mountain cliff. He was in great form with knees bent and skis high enough to see the bottoms. Which read: I’VE GOT YOUR BACK.
Kenna eyed him. “You just want more beer.”
“Yes,” he said seriously. “But I also want to see you smile.”
“I vote for you too,” Hud told her. “On one condition. I’m going to need a co-coach for the ski team.”
Kenna turned to him. “Me?”
“Well, I didn’t mean the Easter Bunny.”
Kenna stared down at him very solemnly. Heartbreakingly earnest. “You want me to co-coach with you.”
“God yes,” he said. “Have you met any high school girls?” He shuddered. “They’re terrifying.”
She blinked and then gave him a smile that seemed more than a little rusty.
“Cool?” he asked.
“Cool,” she whispered. She carefully climbed down off her chair and filled up his beer to the tippy top.
“Hey,” Aidan said. “What about me? I voted for you first, chica.”
She filled up Aidan’s glass too.
Gray raised a brow.
“First you have to say you would’ve voted for me if I’d asked,” she said.
“Whatever you want,” Gray said.
She laughed in delight. “Whatever I want?”
“Yes,” Gray said. “Because you are to me what high school girls are to Hud. Terrifying.”
She laughed again. “Really?”
“Always,” Gray said fervently. “And another always? Me backing you. In anything and everything, Kenna. All of us,” he said. “You have our vote no matter what. You hear me?”
She stared at him for a long beat, her eyes suspiciously shiny. She hated crying, rarely if ever did it. The last time Hud saw her cry was ten years ago when her cat had gotten out and been stolen.
Except it hadn’t really been stolen. The truth was, a coyote had killed it. He and Jacob had stayed up all night burying the thing so Kenna would never know.
Kenna let out a long breath, nodded at Gray, and dipped her head so that they couldn’t see her face. She then tipped up the pitcher and drank the last of the beer right out of it.
“Seriously?” Gray asked.
She swiped her mouth and smiled. “That’s ‘seriously, coach’ to you.” She flashed a grin none of them had seen in far too long. “Next round’s on me,” she said, and headed to the bar.
Aidan gave Gray a punch to the shoulder.
“Ow,” Gray said. “And what the fuck?”
“I’ve been telling you all she needs is something to do, to feel self-worth again. Stop babying her. You should know by now she hates it.”
Gray snatched Aidan’s beer and flipped him off while downing it.
Aidan turned to Hud, tossing him a brown bag he pulled from his backpack.
“What’s this?” Hud asked distrustfully. He had good reason not to trust a damn thing Aidan handed him in a bag.
Aidan smirked. “Worried?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“Jeez, give a guy a snake one time…”
Gray grinned. “That was a lot of fun.”
Asshole brothers. Hud took the bag with two fingers. “If this is a snake, you’d better say your last prayers.”
Aidan laughed. “That was ten years ago and it was a fucking garter snake, man. Harmless.”
“Harmless my ass. It bit me!”
“It did not,” Aidan said. “You just told everyone that because you screamed like a banshee.”
“I repeat,” Hud said stiffly, “you tossed a snake into my lap.”
“You nearly shit your pants.”
That he hadn’t was solely due to the fact that he’d been sitting next to Trina Anderson, at the time the hottest thing he’d ever seen. He’d been working his way up to getting in her pants when Aidan had ever so helpfully screwed him over. “So I have one fear,” he said now. “So what? Everyone’s afraid of something.”
“You’re afraid of two things,” Aidan said. “Open the bag.”
Hud shook it. Nothing hissed or even moved. Considering it safe, he peered into the bag. “Shit.”
Aidan grinned as Hud pulled out the pair of siren-red male bikini briefs from Big Dog. On the fly it read:
CHOKING HAZARD!
Hud stared down at them while Aidan laughed his fool ass off. The ongoing gag, of course. Now he had to wear these tomorrow or suffer the consequences. Way back, they’d started out with obnoxious ties. Hud missed those days, but Penny had vehemently objected after Gray had been forced to wear a tie with a large penis on it to a bank meeting.
So far Gray had managed to keep this new trend from her, but it was only a matter of time.
Aidan was still grinning, clearly quite proud of himself because he knew Hud wore boxers and hated briefs with the same intensity he reserved for snakes and spinach.
“Notice the timing,” Aidan pointed out helpfully. “You have to wear them tomorrow—Bailey will be up tomorrow,” he added, cackling like he was bent over his cauldron.
“Be afraid,” Hud said. “Because you’re next.”
Aidan didn’t look too worried.
Hud shoved the briefs back into the brown bag, flipped Aidan off, and finished his beer.
Bailey didn’t get out of Denver Friday night as planned. She’d had a late-afternoon doctor’s appointment—a big visit. Three months had passed since her first all clear—six months total since she’d last shown cancer the door. She desperately wanted to hear that the second three-month check confirmed the same but she knew the drill. It was a hurry-up-and-wait thing. It’d be Monday or Tuesday of next week before she got the results.
Still, as always, her oncologist had given her a list of options of what could happen and how they’d deal with it. Mostly, and most importantly, the doctor felt optimistic that Bailey was still in the clear.
Bailey liked that option best herself and decided to take a page from her grandma’s book.
Worrying about something is like wishing for it to happen. Just pretend it’s all good. Pretend enough and it becomes real.
So she set her alarm for four in the morning and at the asscrack of dawn on Saturday, she hit the road, arriving at Cedar Ridge with the first hint of the sun.
She parked and went to stand in front of her wall. Her breath crystalized in front of her face and she was glad the day was supposed to get up near fifty degrees. She didn’t want her paints to freeze.
She tilted her head back and took in the mural. The tree was finished, its roots stretching across the bottom of the wall, the branches and leaves looking alive as they took over the top. Along the way there were spots for the five Kincaid siblings to appear. Gray sat on a throne—his ski helmet his crown and his staff a ski pole. Penny sat in his lap with one arm around his neck and the other on a ski pole as well. Skis adorned all four of their feet.
When Bailey shifted slightly, so did the image—as planned. Depending on how you looked at them, they were either sitting looking at each other or sharing poles as they skied as one.
Aidan was in search and rescue gear, hanging off a branch of the tree like Tarzan. Lily was tucked under one arm, and the two of them were looking at each other and laughing.
Everything to the right of that was still only penciled in and even then only up to Hud. She’d drawn him in ski patrol gear complete with his backpack right in the middle of a crazy jump off the top of the tree—which she’d covered in snow so that it also looked like a mountain cliff. He was in great form with knees bent and skis high enough to see the bottoms. Which read: I’VE GOT YOUR BACK.
