Not Bailey apparently. She rose out of the chair he’d put her in and came up behind him. He could feel her, her worry, her anxiety.
He was such an asshole. Hud knew it but he couldn’t turn to her. He couldn’t do anything right then but obsess about Max’s email and Jacob. For all their growing-up years, they’d been connected. It seemed at times oddly so. They could always tell what the other had been thinking or when one of them got hurt.
For a while after Jacob had left that ability had lingered, but over the years it’d faded away, leaving Hud nothing of Jacob. Staring out into the night, he should’ve been able to feel his twin.
He couldn’t.
And that scared him to the bone.
“You took a night off. That’s rare,” she said. “The world still spinning?”
He let out a low laugh. Shockingly, the world was still spinning, going on without him. Something to think about.
“Are you okay?” Bailey asked quietly.
This had him closing his eyes. He’d put a gun in her face. He should be comforting her and yet she stood behind him, hovering, wanting to comfort him. He forced out a low laugh. “You hate that question, remember?”
“I do,” she said. “Let me reword. What’s wrong, Hud?”
He felt her hand on his back and instead of pulling away like he would have if it’d been anyone else, he wanted to turn and yank her in tight. To make sure he didn’t, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Just a long night. Go to bed, Bailey.”
Go to bed? Oh no, thank you very much. Bailey knew he was probably well used to dismissing people with that authoritative tone, but she wasn’t one of his employees and couldn’t be dismissed so easily.
Growing up, her teachers had always commented about her stubbornness in her report cards. Fact was, she had it in spades, which she believed had helped save her life. She was too obstinate to die.
The office was silent except for her breathing. If Hud was breathing, she couldn’t tell. When he finally turned to face her, he arched a brow—and not in an amused way either. More in a frustrated, you’re-being-a-PITA kind of way.
“I don’t know about the other people in your life,” she said, “but I don’t usually do as I’m told. It’s a known problem.”
He gave a small smile but it faded quickly enough as he focused in on her. “You’re shaking.”
“No.”
“Yes, you are.” He pulled her in.
She happily snuggled in, wrapping her arms around him. “It’s not me, Hud,” she whispered, trying to wrap her entire body around him. “It’s you. You’re shaking.”
“Shit.” He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, running his hands up and down her arms as if soothing her would soothe him. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispered against her jaw.
“No,” she said. “I should’ve knocked when I first got to your doorway, but you were staring at your phone so intently I didn’t want to interrupt you, and then—”
“It’s okay,” he said. “My fault, not yours.” He kept his mouth against her so every word ghosted over her skin.
She shivered but didn’t want to let him distract her. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?” Knowing it was the last thing he wanted to do, she put her hand on his chest. “I can tell you’ve had a rough night—”
He snorted.
“Okay, a rough week maybe,” she said. “I’ve had a few of those myself and I know that sometimes it helps to say what’s bothering you.”
He was quiet for so long she thought, Okay, I guess he’s not going to say a word. But then he quietly said, “I got an email about Jacob’s unit.”
She pulled free to search his face for a hint, but he was damn good at giving away nothing when he wanted. “What happened?” she asked.
“They took enemy fire. No word on if there were injuries.” He paused. “Or fatalities.”
Her heart broke at all he didn’t say. “And you’ve had no contact from him?” she asked.
“No.”
“I’m sure he’ll get in touch with you as soon as he can.”
Hud slowly shook his head and scrubbed a hand down his face, which she knew now to be one of his rare tells. He had to be exhausted to let it slip. “No,” he said. “Jacob won’t be in contact.”
“But he’s got to know how you and the others will be worrying about him.”
“Trust me,” he said grimly. “You couldn’t understand.”
She stared up at him. “You think because I don’t have any siblings I can’t understand an obviously difficult relationship?”
“We’re dropping this,” he said. “It’s not up for discussion. Or for public consumption in the mural.”
She absorbed the unexpected hurt of that and turned away, getting as far as the door before she stopped and stared at her hand on the doorknob, remembering what Carrie told her.
Hud pushes away the people he cares about most. He’s good at it.
Bailey let out a breath and turned, walking back to him until she was toe-to-toe with him. “I almost let you do it,” she said.
“Do what?”
“Push me away. It’s apparently your MO when it comes to the people you care most about. Like Jacob.”