My Kind of Wonderful

Unbelievable.

Penny had taken Carrie to the Kincaid lodge, where she’d fallen asleep on the couch waiting for Hud. He’d walked in at five thirty in the morning, bleary-eyed, knowing he had to take her home for her meds before anything else—including going to Bailey. He got his mom up and out to the parking lot, where he discovered Aidan’s truck blocking his.

Aidan waved them into his vehicle saying he was headed to McDonald’s for breakfast and it wasn’t out of the way. He didn’t say another word on the ride, but Carrie had woken all the way up and had plenty to say.

“It’s not too late to make things work with Bailey,” she started.

Hud had spent the entire night out in the cold on the mountain searching for dumbasses, so he’d had lots of time to replay what had happened in his head. He didn’t need to discuss. He’d screwed up, big time. And the worst part was, his life was so crazy he didn’t even have time to fix it. “Mom—”

“No, I know you. You’re stubborn. So determined to be a damn island. But you can do this, baby. You can stop pushing away people who care about you. You can learn to accept love. You accept mine, you accept your siblings’, why can’t you accept anyone else’s?”

Aidan snorted beneath his breath and turned Hud’s way for his response.

Hud didn’t have one. He put on his sunglasses and stared out the windshield. A storm was blowing in, a hell of one given the gunmetal-gray clouds pouring in over the mountain peaks like smoke coming out of a cauldron. He hadn’t had a spare second to check the weather so he turned on the radio now, which was predicting the storm of the season, maybe the decade.

Perfect.

Carrie sighed from the backseat. “You going to talk any sense into him, Aidan?”

Aidan laughed a little and met Carrie’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “You ever had luck talking any sense into him?” he asked.

“No. He’s pretty hardheaded.”

Aidan chuckled.

Hud rolled his eyes.

“This is important,” Carrie said to Aidan. “This is his life he’s messing up. We can’t let him do that. Can you try harder?”

Aidan shifted his weight in the seat, looking uncomfortable. The Kincaids didn’t do well discussing feelings. “I’m not really authorized to talk on this issue,” Aidan finally said. “It’s above my pay grade.”

“You think Lily would agree to that?” Carrie asked.

“Lily’s smarter than I am,” Aidan said. He looked at Hud. “And I’m pretty sure Bailey’s smarter than your son. No insult intended.”

“None taken,” Carrie said, and sighed as they pulled into her home. The guys got her inside and settled.

Hud leaned over her to kiss her good-bye. “Missed you, Mom,” he said quickly, wondering how long she’d stay lucid, if it would stick this time. “It was good to see you.”

Carrie cupped his face and looked him in the eyes. “You’ve always said there were things you wished you could take back,” she said, voice earnest. “When you crashed your bike and sent Jacob flying over the handlebars and straight to the hospital. Or when you cheated and took Jacob’s multiplication test for him and got both of you suspended from third grade for a week.”

“Mom, it’s going to be okay.”

“How?” she asked. “Your dad’s gone, Jacob’s gone, and now Bailey too? How much loss can you take, Hud? Don’t let her go, baby. Please, don’t.” She started to cry. “The principal and school counselor once told me they were worried about you because you didn’t let yourself get attached. And it’s all my fault. Please don’t let this be all my fault, Hudson.”

“It’s not,” he said, destroyed. He sat on her bed and pulled her into his arms. “This isn’t your fault. None of it is your fault.”

“It is! If I’d loved you better, if I wasn’t bats-in-the-belfry crazy like everyone says, if I’d been less of a coward to let love back into my life and given you the right example, if I’d been a better mom—”

“No,” Hud said firmly. “This is on me. Not you. I know how to love, and I know it because you taught me.”

Carrie’s eyes filled. “You’re trying to make me feel better and that’s sweet, but—”

“No buts,” he said firmly, suddenly everything clicking into place for him. It wasn’t his mom who was the coward—it was him. Love terrified him and that was bullshit, complete bullshit. He hugged her hard and kissed her on top of her head.

She clung to him tight. “You’ve always been a good son to me, Hud. Always. You and Jacob—”

“Took care of what we could, I know, Mom.”

“No. Well, yes, you did. Always. And the promise in you as a young boy… Well, you’ve kept it as you grew up. You’re a wonderful man, Hud, and I’m so very proud of you.”

He met her gaze and was gratified to see that she was still one hundred percent lucid. She knew exactly who she was talking to. She was talking to Hud the man, not the boy.

“You’ve shouldered so much responsibility,” she said, “staying here and doing what was right for the family. I don’t know a better man. Well, except for you, Aidan. You’re a good man too.”

Aidan winked at her.

Carrie smiled and turned back to Hud. “And because you are such a good man, you know that you deserve love. But I still want to hear you say it.”

“Mom—”

“Hudson Edward Kincaid,” she said, her voice wavering but her tone utter steel. “Say it. Say you deserve love.”

He sighed. “I deserve love.”

“Well then what the hell are you still doing here? Go get her!”

Back outside, Hud looked at the sky. Shit. Their “storm of the season, maybe the decade” was moving in faster than he’d thought. He tried to take the driver’s seat.

“No way,” Aidan said. “No one drives this baby but me.”

“You let Lily drive it.”

“Yeah, and sometimes I let her drive in my bed too,” Aidan said. “But not you.” Using his big body to edge Hud out of the way, he grabbed the driver’s seat. “Get in or stay here,” he said out the window. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

Hud swore and got in the passenger side a split second before Aidan hit the gas. “I don’t know what crawled up your ass but I’m in a hurry.”

“Why do you think I’m driving?” Aidan asked. “You drive like a grandma.”

Hud narrowed his eyes at him.

“Oh, excuse me,” Aidan corrected. “You’re a cop, not a grandma, and you’re required to drive within the limits of the law.” He flashed a grin. “I’m not.”

“Fine,” Hud said. “But haul ass, you hear me? Lights do not exist.”

Aidan’s look to Hud said his intelligence had been insulted as he tore out of the parking lot. “You got your head on straight then?”

“Yeah,” Hud said.

“You sure? Cuz I could knock you around a little to make sure.”

“Thanks,” Hud said dryly. “You’re a giver but I’m good now.”