My Kind of Wonderful

He looked at her. “You have family, Bailey?”

Goodness, she liked the way he said her name. Slowly. In that voice as smooth as aged whiskey. “Just my mom,” she said.

“Well, unless you’ve got a big family with too many siblings, you couldn’t possibly understand the constant urge to beat the shit out of each other.”

“That may be true,” she admitted. “Although now that I’ve seen the Kincaids at the breakfast table and how you all interact, maybe I understand more than you think.”

“We’re usually worse. We were on our best behavior.”

She laughed. Yes, they’d bickered, stolen food off one another’s plates, snarled, and insulted, but they’d had each other’s backs. “Actually, I thought it was amazing,” she said. “I was envious as hell.”

He looked surprised. “Has it always been just you and your mom?”

She nodded.

“What happened to your dad?” he asked.

She shrugged. Her dad was around. He worked in steel and he actually didn’t live too far from her. But they didn’t see much of him, never had. She always hated to talk about this because it left her feeling like she was… pathetic. And she didn’t feel pathetic. Mostly. “He’s around. But not around, if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” he said with surprising understanding.

“He’s not really a family guy,” she said, “but I see him every once in a while.”

He studied her for a long moment as the sun kept them warm. “Okay, so what do you need?”

The question astounded her. What did she need? Where did she start with that? She wished she could win the lotto to pay off some serious medical debts. She wished for her mother to understand that Bailey was really okay and didn’t need to be babied through life anymore. She wished Aaron would give up on her without her having to further hurt him.

And after today, she realized she wished to get laid at some point in this decade before she jumped Hud’s very sexy bones.

Options…

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I’d be happy with the rest of the day going as well as the morning has.”

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.