“Where is she now?” Hud asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Hud stared at Aaron, who stared back, eyes clear. “You really don’t know,” Hud said.
“I really don’t know,” Aaron agreed. “She might be mad at you, but she’s even madder at me.”
“If you had to take a wild guess…” Hud said.
“I’d say she was after something she always wanted.” He shrugged. “You’ve seen her list. She could be anywhere.”
“You saw her leave, don’t tell me you didn’t. You see everything when it comes to Bailey.”
Aaron gave a barely there, slight nod. “So?”
“When?” Hud demanded.
“An hour ago.”
Ah, hell. One hour. He’d missed her by one fucking hour. “Did she have suitcases or duffel bags? Do you know if she had her passport?”
“You mean for a cruise through the Greek Islands, touring the castles in Scotland, visiting the glaciers in Greenland, whale watching…”
The list that had once thrilled him was now terrifying him. “Yes,” he ground out.
Aaron paused and then shook his head. “You know, I really want to be a dick here and tell you yeah, she was packed and loaded for bear, but she only had her backpack. There’s no way she went anywhere on a plane, because trust me, if she had, she’d have packed a huge bag. Or ten.” He paused. “She did say something about having a few things she wanted to say to her last ski instructor.”
Hud nodded. Breckenridge. That he could deal with. “Thanks.”
“Oh, don’t thank me,” Aaron said. “We’re not on the same side, you and me.”
Hud ignored this and drove to Breckenridge.
Chapter 31
Six hours later, Hud had to admit defeat. He’d been to Breckenridge. He’d scoured the entire town.
Not a single sign of her.
Frustrated, out of options, he drove back to Cedar Ridge. It was midnight when he pulled in and parked. He didn’t pay much attention as he let himself inside the place that had always been home to him.
Every light was on.
The first thing he saw was Kenna sitting Indian style on the island eating from a huge pizza box. This was unusual because one, she was actually smiling instead of snarling, and two, she was looking happy, and three…
His entire family was there, crowding in his kitchen, sitting on every available counter or chair—or in Aidan’s case, leaning up against the sink inhaling a huge piece of pizza standing up.
And then his heart stopped because as everyone turned to him in unison, shifting, the person sitting on the table came into view.
Bailey.
“What took you so long?” she asked, and took a bite of her piece of pizza.
“What took so long?” he repeated dumbly.“Yes,” she said, chewing, swallowing. “I figured out almost as soon as I left here that leaving was a mistake, that I never should have walked away like that without at least giving you a shot at groveling. It’s taken you days.”
Aidan snorted and then turned it into a cough when Hud looked at him. Suddenly everyone was busy staring at the ceiling or their shoes but no one, apparently, was leaving the show.
Hud let out a breath and pushed them all out of his mind, concentrating on Bailey. “I’ve been one step behind you for… Shit.” He laughed mirthlessly and shook his head. He was so stupid. He’d been her last ski instructor. “Hell, Bailey, I’ve been one step behind you for months.”
She swallowed hard, eyes a little wide, and full. So full of things it almost hurt to look at her, but he managed as he tossed his keys aside and walked into the kitchen. He strode straight to the table, took her wrist, and directed the piece of pizza in her hand to his mouth.
Not nearly as calm as she clearly wanted him to believe, she stared at him, her eyes suspiciously bright. “Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi.” He swallowed the pizza, decided that wasn’t even close to what he was hungry for, and took it out of her hands, setting it aside. He wrapped his hands around her ankles, uncrossed her legs, and dragged her to the edge of the table, pulling her body flush with his.
Obliging with a gratifying rush of air from her lungs, she wrapped her legs around him and then her arms. “I was wrong to leave,” she whispered. “I didn’t really want to leave, not the town, not the people in it, and not you.” She stared up at him accusatorily. “How could you leave?”
“Because you were gone.” He lifted his head to give each and every one of his siblings and their significant others a hard, dark look for not taking mercy on him and calling him with her location.
Not a single one looked particularly sorry, the assholes. He turned his attention back to Bailey. “I couldn’t be without you,” he said. “I couldn’t breathe here without you, I couldn’t think without you. I couldn’t… be without you. Without you, I wasn’t me.”
“True story,” Gray interjected. “You know those commercials where people turn into bitchy divas when they’re hungry? Hud here took bitchy diva to a whole new level, trust me.”
Penny elbowed him in the gut. With an oomph, Gray stopped talking.
“What were you going to do if I’d moved to New York?” Bailey asked Hud. “Or London? Or Timbuktu?”
He thought about that. “I don’t know about Timbuktu,” he finally said. “But New York has great food and Europe has some pretty cool skiing.”
“You’d have left here, moved somewhere with me?” she asked doubtfully. “You’d have left your home?”
“Don’t you know?” He set her hand onto his chest, right over his heart. “Home is wherever you are, Bay.”
“Okay, that’s a good one,” Gray whispered. “That’s going to get him laid—Ouch! Christ, woman, watch the goods.”
Bailey stared at Hud and shook her head in disbelief. “But this mountain is everything to you,” she said softly.
“You’re everything to me.”
“What took you so long?” she asked again.
Her voice killed him. Her tone suggested that she’d nearly lost faith in him.
“I was worried,” she said. “I was worried you didn’t care—”
“The thought of you leaving and staying away made me want to drop to my knees,” he said. “How’s that for someone who doesn’t care? It’s been three days, twelve hours, and six minutes without you.”
She blinked. “You kept track of the minutes?”
“No, I made that part up,” he said. “I was trying to load the evidence in my favor.”
Aidan snickered. “Rookie.”
“Shh,” Lily said. “He’s being romantic.”
Hud did his best to ignore their obnoxious audience. “I called you, told you I was crazy for you.”
She closed her eyes. “I deleted your message. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I got held up by the storm but went after you as soon as I could. You’d left this huge Bailey-size hole in my heart, but the storm—it was the only thing that could’ve stopped me.”