My Kind of Wonderful

“Your mom emailed us about the mural,” Penny said as Hud picked up the muffin. “All of us. She said she thought of it as a family endeavor, a family picture, and you know what? I realized we don’t have a single one of all of us. How sad is that? So she’s right. We’re taking a vote.”

Well, hell. Hud put the muffin down. “I’m sorry,” he said. “She shouldn’t have asked this of you. I know I should take away her phone but—”

“I like the idea of a mural,” Gray said.

Hud stared at him. “What?”

“Yeah,” Gray said. “Actually, we all like the idea.”

Of course, because they were insane, each more than the next. “No,” he said. “We don’t all like the idea.” He said this even though a small part of him was remembering his mom’s joy at the thought of the mural. And her claim that Bailey was special, that she’d been through a hard time.

For all Hud knew, his mom had recycled a story she’d heard or seen on TV. Or hell, maybe Bailey had actually given her a sob story. He didn’t know and didn’t care. She wasn’t his business.

The resort was his business. “We’re not doing a mural simply because you all feel sorry for my mom.”

“Well of course not,” Gray said, stuffing his face with thick French toast. “That would be stupid. Hey, are you going to eat that food or what?”

Hud shoved his brother’s hand away from his breakfast and pulled the plate in closer to protect it—necessary with this bunch. “A mural is impractical,” he went on. “If you want a damn pic, we’ll go to the mall and take one. But we’re all busting our asses, and spending money on a mural would be a frivolous, stupid thing to do.”

“Actually, no it wouldn’t,” Gray said. “You know the rumors going around town that the resort is in trouble. We put up a huge-ass mural like this and it shows folks we’re staying right here. No matter what.”

Aidan toasted Gray with his orange juice. Kenna, Penny, and Lily did the same.

Hud just stared at them. “No,” he said again. Why wasn’t anyone listening?

“And your exact objection is what again?” Aidan asked, snaking Lily’s muffin.

In response, Lily scooted into Aidan’s lap and nibbled on his ear.

Aidan’s eyes closed and…

Lily snagged her muffin back and reclaimed her seat with a smug smile.

Aidan’s look promised retribution. Lily just grinned at him.

“We’re not doing the mural,” Hud said out loud—again—to the crazy people. “For lots of reasons. One, our balloon payment on this place is barreling down on us, and last I checked, it was threatening to put us all out on our asses. Two, if we’re going to spend money stupidly, then let’s get Gray and Penny a damn room—”

Gray and Penny—who had been kissing—pulled apart, neither looking particularly sorry. “And three,” Hud said, “the artist my mom hired to do the mural is already gone.”

“No, she’s not,” Penny said, and waved at someone behind Hud.

Hud turned and… shit. There she was, along with her bright red ski cap. He stood up as she came to the table.

“Hey,” Bailey said brightly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Rude,” Kenna said, elbowing him in the gut. “Even for you, Hud.” And since Hud had stood up, Kenna was able to kick his chair out and give it to the woman. “Sit,” she said. “Hud was just holding the spot for you.”

Hud gave her a long look, which she of course ignored.

Still avoiding Hud’s gaze, Bailey sat. And then, unbelievably, she beamed down at his plate and picked up the blueberry muffin, slowly peeling back the paper and taking a bite like she was starving. “Thanks for the offer of breakfast and the ideas you all emailed me,” she said around a bite. “Carrie had some wonderful ideas as well. She’s incredibly artistic. I’ve got a sketch to show you.”

Temper warred with something else within Hud, something he didn’t want to acknowledge. He’d heard this woman talking to his mom before she’d known he was listening. She’d been patient with her. Patient, kind, and… sweet.

Dammit.

She was different if not special, and he felt an odd tug of affection for her, one he absolutely did not want to feel. “I’m sorry,” he said to her. “But as I already told you, we’re not commissioning a mural.”

“I know,” she said. “And as I told you, I’m doing it for free.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” she said. “It’s on my list.” She fanned a hand in front of her face. “Whew. It’s super hot in here, isn’t it? I think it’s the altitude. I’m not in sync with it yet.” She reached up to shove off the hood on her jacket and her cap came off with it. While she twisted around to get the misbehaving cap out of the hood and slip it back on her head, Hud felt his heart hit his toes.

Clueless to his reaction, she picked up a fork and started in on his eggs.

The rest of them sat in startled silence for a beat before purposefully all turning back to their food as well.

Not only did he not have his food, Hud couldn’t move. He considered himself an unflappable, stoic, pragmatic sort of guy, not easily rattled.

But beneath her ski cap, she’d nothing but short blond peach fuzz. Not the kind of short you got from a new, cool style, but the kind of short you got from being sick.

Really sick.

Chapter 5

Like the others, Hud did his best not to react to the sight of Bailey’s bare skull, but he was having a hard time with that. His heart felt lodged in his throat as things suddenly started to make some sense.

Why she’d felt so frail to him.

The list she’d referred to a couple of times. Jesus, he really hoped it wasn’t a bucket list…

Beneath the table Gray kicked Hud—hard, dammit—and gave him a look that said, Do something.

And if Hud had known what, he would have.

“She’s right,” Penny said smoothly. “It’s most definitely warm in here. And by the way,” she said to Hud’s breakfast thief, “we insist on paying for supplies.” Her expression and tone were perfectly normal.

How the hell did she do that? How could she not want to cup Bailey’s face and make her assure them that she was okay?

“That’d be great,” Bailey said. “I do need scaffolding. Carrie thought maybe you had some here somewhere. Does anyone know if that’s true?”

Penny turned to Gray, who nodded. “It’s in the storage container,” he said.

Wasn’t anyone paying any attention? Hud wondered wildly. Bailey was still fighting with her sweater, which she couldn’t get unzipped because it’d gotten caught. He actually reached out to help but she swiveled and sent him a don’t-even-think-about-it glance, so he shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them off her. Message received. She was fine and completely capable and wanted to ignore what she’d clearly been through, and he was to pretend to see no vulnerability. Got it. “You can’t do this for free,” he said.

She blinked those baby blues, leveling him, and he realized the problem. She thought he pitied her, which was actually the opposite of the truth. He admired her.