by Jill Shalvis
He flashed that panty-melting grin and all her poor, neglected womanly parts flamed to life and did the Macarena.
“I meant,” he said, “what do you need to get this interview over with so you can get started on this damn mural?”
She felt her face heat. Right. One of these days she’d hopefully stop making a fool of herself in front of him… Maybe that’s what she needed…
Chapter 7
Hud had been sitting with Bailey for the better part of an hour before he’d even realized it. He needed to go, needed to get back to work, but he didn’t move.
“Tell me about your mom,” Bailey said.
“Batshit crazy.” He laughed softly. “But she’s warm and kind and funny, and she’s…” He shrugged. “Everything. She’d do anything for me.”
“And you feel the same way,” she said softly.
“Yes.” His phone vibrated and he knew he could no longer ignore the work piling up as each second clicked by. This time it was a text from Aidan.
I’ve never seen you sit for more than five minutes ever.
He returned the text with a homemade emoji that Kenna had created for him—a closed fist with a middle finger sticking straight up.
“What?” Bailey asked. “Do you have an emergency?”
“Yeah. I need to go pummel Aidan.”
She blinked. “You guys do that a lot? Fight?”
He laughed. “Depends on your definition of ‘a lot.’” He stood and offered her a hand.
She slid her much smaller one into his and let him pull her upright. “Thanks for letting me keep you from whatever it is you do all day long,” she said. “Rescue fair maidens, corral idiot thrill seekers, redirect people who can’t read maps, et cetera.”
When he snorted, she flashed him a smile and stuffed her notepad into one of her myriad of pockets. “I’ll see you next weekend. I’ll need access to the scaffolding at that time.”
He walked her out to her car, and as before the silence between them felt oddly comfortable. He’d have to think about that later. For now he had something else on his mind.
Her car was a little piece of shit, emphasis on piece of shit, and he was glad for the day’s decent weather. “You need winter tires,” he said, nudging one with his boot. “Especially if you’re planning on coming back and forth up the mountain. It’s clear today but you’re not going to stay that lucky.”
“I don’t know,” she said with a mysterious smile. “I’ve been pretty lucky lately.” She unlocked the driver’s door and started to get in. He took a step forward, one hand on the door, ready to close it for her.
But then she straightened and turned back to him to say something at the same time he started to talk as well—and they ended up plastered together in that tight triangle between the car and the opened driver’s door.
She laughed, that soft, contagious sound. “You go first,” she said.
She hadn’t moved back and neither had he, so they were nose to nose. Which wasn’t exactly accurate. Her nose came up to maybe his shoulder. He could feel her soft breasts against his chest. She was a little chilled and he found his hands going to her arms. To steady her, he told himself as he swept them up and down. Keeping her warm.
She smiled.
He didn’t. Couldn’t.
“Did you forget what you were going to say?” she asked, teasing.
“No.” Yes. Jesus. He let go of her and took a step back. “Drive safe.”
“That’s not what you were going to say,” she chided.
Had he ever met a more endearingly/annoyingly up front woman in his life? Did she not have a coy bone in her body?
She was staring up into his eyes, her own knowing and warm. “You wanted to ask me a question,” she said softly. “It’s okay. Ask me anything, as long as it’s not ‘Are you okay?’”
But see, that’s what he wanted to know, badly. “Are you?” he asked just as softly.
She dropped her head to his chest and let out a low laugh.
He ran his hand up her slim spine now and gently cupped the back of her head—still in the cherry-red cap—and tilted her face back up to his. “Tell me.”
“I’m okay,” she whispered.
He didn’t move. Hell, he didn’t breathe.
“Really,” she said. “I’m more okay than I’ve been in ten years.”
He stared into her eyes, caught the absolute joyous truth swimming there, and let out a breath and nodded in relief.
She was still smiling, looking pretty damn beautiful while she was at it, when her gaze dropped to his mouth and her breath caught.
“Bailey,” he said, and her eyes met his and held. “Bay,” he whispered, and she sort of melted against him as he brushed his hand down her cheek and then around to the nape of her neck.
The next move was hers, he told himself. Had to be.
She hesitated and he told himself he was good with that, but then her eyes dropped to his mouth again and held… And then after a heart-stopping pause during which they shared air, she leaned in and brushed her lips gently to his.
She tasted like warm sunshine and sweet woman, and when she whispered, “Really, really okay,” against him, he groaned. He dragged her in closer with the hand he had on her neck and kissed her this time, deep and hot, until they were both breathless.
She drew back, just a fraction, and stared up at him with those eyes filled with a little surprise, like she couldn’t believe the electricity between them.
He was not a little surprised.
He was stunned.
He could feel her warm breath on his face and the heat of her body just barely touching his, and he wanted her with an ache that couldn’t be explained.
As if she could read that want, her mouth curved and then she kissed him again, sighing into his mouth, surrendering to the heat, the passion. His hands cupped her face as the two of them stayed locked together for an endless moment. She pressed herself against him like she needed even more, letting her hands drift over his shoulders, his chest, whatever she could reach. He absolutely returned the favor. Holding her head cupped in a palm, he caressed her breast, her nipple hard under his touch, her moan soft on his tongue.
When they finally broke apart it was to stare at each other. She licked her lips like she wanted to hold on to the taste of him, and he groaned.
She smiled a little shyly—like she hadn’t just had her hands all over him—and without a single word slid into her car.
He was still standing there when her car vanished out of the parking lot.
What just happened?
The radio at his hip crackled and then his brother’s voice came out of it. “What the hell just happened?”
Hud turned his head and found Aidan leaning out of his office window, so far that Hud kind of hoped he fell. “Nothing,” he said.
“Nothing, my ass.”
That’s when Hud noticed the car that had been parked next to Bailey’s.
A ’68 Camaro.
Remembering the morning’s rescue, which now seemed like a million years ago, he pulled the set of keys from his pocket and stared down at them. “Shit.” He brought the radio back up to his mouth. “Can you find out about Sean, the compound fracture flown out earlier?”
“It’ll cost you,” Aidan said.
“Yeah, yeah, just do it.”
A minute later Aidan was back on the radio, telling Hud that Sean was out of surgery and his prognosis was good.
Hud got Sean’s address and called Gray to follow him and give Hud a ride back to the resort, but Gray showed up and slid into the shotgun position of the Camaro.
“What are you doing?” Hud asked. “I need you to follow me in your truck.”
“A ’68 Camaro,” Gray said, lovingly caressing the dash.
Hud rolled his eyes and called Aidan. “Need you to come out to the lot with your car keys.”
Aidan arrived, caught sight of the Camaro, and got in the backseat.
“You kidding me?�
�� Hud asked him, eyeballing him in the rearview window.
“Man, do we have to take it back?”
Hud called Kenna. Thankfully she had a brain and followed them in her own car so that Hud could drive the Camaro home for Sean.
Back at the resort, they all scattered except for Gray, who stuck with Hud. “Tell me again why you returned your gift for rescuing some guy? And not just any gift, but a ’68 Camaro?”
“He thought he was dying,” Hud said.
“A ’68 Camaro,” Gray repeated.
Hud shook his head. “Next subject.”
“Fine. You kissed our cutie-pie muralist.”
Hell. “She kissed me.”
Gray grinned.
“She did.”
“You know what that makes you?” Gray asked.
“What?”
“Slow.” Gray’s smiled faded then. “Do we know her story?”
“You mean other than you guys decided we needed her to paint our wall?”
“You know what I’m asking,” Gray said.
“Yeah,” Hud said. “And she says she’s okay.” Which he really hoped was true.
“And you?” Gray asked. “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Gray blew out a breath. “Because ever since we heard that Jacob got himself injured, you’ve been…”
“What?”
Gray sighed again. “Intense.”
Yeah, true story.
“And now with Bailey painting the mural about us, all of us including Jacob,” Gray went on, “you’re going to have to talk about it. You’re going to have to see him on the wall every time you ski down the mountain.”
“And whose fault is that?” Hud asked. “You wanted the damn mural, you’ve got the damn mural. I’ll deal. I always do.”
Gray hesitated. “Hud—”
“Stop. It’s… Whatever,” Hud managed. “Seeing the family tree on the wall with all of us? That’s how it should be. Jacob’s still a part of this family. If we have to have the mural, then he belongs on it.”
“But?” Gray asked. “Because I sense a big, fat but.”
But he had enough trouble dealing with what had happened between him and Jacob. The last thing he needed was for it to be illustrated for the world to see.
Gray took in his expression and shook his head. “You do realize it is just a painting, right? And caricatures at that. It’s not going to say anything personal.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” Gray asked.
“Christ. Yes. Back off.”
“You’re angry.”
No shit. But it wasn’t directed at Gray. Or even Bailey.
He was angry with himself because he could still remember everything about that day. It’d been June and he and Jacob had just graduated high school. They’d gotten into it right there at graduation, tearing off their stupid gowns and yelling stupid stuff at each other, a fact that haunted Hud every night.
Gray glanced over at him. “See, you really don’t seem all right. You’re not okay, are you?”
Hud was starting to get why Bailey hated that question. “I’m fine.”
“I imagine the kiss helped,” Gray said.
“Aidan has a big mouth.”
Gray laughed. “He told Lily, who told Penny, who told me.”
“You all need a life.”
“We’ve got one and you’re part of it,” Gray said. “So… you going after that? After Bailey?”
“Are you insane?”
“Are you?” Gray volleyed back. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know but I bet that you’re about to tell me.”
“You let Maggie walk.”
Hud had been with Maggie for two years, but that had been five years ago. “She left me for being a workaholic,” he said. “Old news.”
“No, she left you because she wanted you to fight for her. And then there’s Quinn. She was in love with you and you walked away.”
Hud shook his head. “Quinn wasn’t in love with me. We were just messing around and then she decided she didn’t want to anymore.”
“More bullshit,” Gray said. “You fight tooth and nail at work and you’re the strongest person I know, so why are you such a pussy when it comes to this?”
“To what?”
Gray jabbed a finger into Hud’s chest.
Okay, so maybe in some ways Gray was right. But he was still going to stay far, far back from whatever was happening between him and Bailey. Yeah, yeah, a shrink would have a field day with this. His dad had left him, and to some degree so had his mom, and then there was Jacob. Hud definitely had the whole abandonment issue down pat. Which he hated about himself.
Christ, he was tired. He rubbed the spot between his eyes where he had a headache coming. “I’m over this.”
“Of course you are,” Gray said. “You know, this reminds me of a conversation we had about six months ago about Aidan and Lily.”
Aidan had resisted falling in love with Lily with a muleheaded obstinacy that none of the rest of the family had understood. “Lily was perfect for him,” Hud said.
“Yeah,” Gray agreed. “And she’s it for him, just as Penny is it for me. There’ll never be another woman for either of us and we’re happy for the first time in far too long.” He gave Hud a long, meaningful look.
“What?”
“You’re the one who pushed Aidan to go for it,” Gray said. “So now I’m going to do the same for you.”
“Who told you I pushed Aidan to go for it?”
“Aidan told Lily, who told Penny, who told me.” Gray grinned. “Sensing a pattern? We’re all gunning for you to trip over your two left feet for a woman. It’s your turn.”
“Jesus,” Hud muttered.
“What?”
“I just can’t believe that you have yourself a hot wife and yet the two of you waste your time talking about this shit instead of—”
“Instead of nothing,” Gray said. “Haven’t you heard of pillow talk? Someday you’ll have someone sharing your pillow, so after you get yourself some, you’ll lie there with them and tell them all your funny shit.”
Hud shook his head.
“No? You’re really going to sit there and tell me that you’re too busy to get laid every night?” Gray asked. “Too busy to roll over in the morning and find a woman waiting for you with a smile
