My Kind of Wonderful

“I promise I’m not crazy,” Carrie said, and then grimaced. “Well, okay, so I’m a little crazy. But that has nothing to do with this. I saw your boards on Pinterest. You’ve done some beautiful work.”

Maybe, but up until now Bailey’s painting had been for herself, given to friends and family. None of her paintings was bigger than a bedroom wall, nothing commissioned, and nothing as big as the wall at the resort. She’d been painting by night in her grandma’s memory for years because it brought her grandma, whom she missed with all her heart and soul, back to life in her mind. She’d been doing that while working as a graphic artist by day for her bread and butter. “You know that this would be my first mural,” Bailey said. “Right?”

Carrie nodded. “Yes, but I figured it was just math, right?”

Bailey choked out a laugh. “Well, yeah, in theory…”

“That’s good enough for me.” Carrie reached for Bailey’s hand. “The resort needs this. The kids need this. I need this, and I’m getting the sense that maybe you do too.”

This woman had two young boys, one who’d possibly died and one locked in grief. Truly awful. She gently squeezed Carrie’s fingers, having no doubt in her mind that Carrie and her young son Hud indeed needed this.

But did Bailey?

Given that for the last ten years, her sole focus had been on staying alive… Okay, yes, she wanted this, but that wasn’t a reason to give in to the very nice but possibly very crazy lady. But Bailey liked the idea of helping people. Was this the right way to go about it, though? One thing she’d learned after all she’d been through—there were options, always. Her doctor had taught her that, offering her choices at every roadblock they’d hit. This was an option and an opportunity.

“Say yes,” Carrie said, clasping her hands in front of her hopefully. “Say you’ll do this to help my boys.”

“Your boys don’t need any help,” a male voice said. A smooth yet gravelly voice, and Bailey froze before slowly turning to face…

Mountain Hottie.





Chapter 3


Hud had been surprised when he’d gotten to his mom’s room to hear her talking about him and Jacob. Then he’d heard the actual words and he’d stopped short.

She felt that what had happened between him and Jacob was her fault.

Her sadness and regret pummeled at him and wrenched him back to a time he didn’t want to think about. What had happened wasn’t her fault, not by a long shot.

It was his.

The fight with Jacob had been the worst day of Hud’s life, and that was saying something since there’d been a few doozies before and since. But that day Hud had said things to his brother, things that couldn’t be taken back, and he knew he could never make it right between them again.

That was his cross to bear. Not his mom’s. But apparently she didn’t see it that way. Just as she didn’t see him as a grown man. In her eyes, he was still a child. That wasn’t her fault either. It was the dementia. Just the thought had his chest tightening. She’d been through so much, and apparently life wasn’t done messing with her yet.

Nor him. Because the woman sitting at his mom’s side was no other than the pretty cherry-red–capped skier from the resort. Bailey. Hud stepped into the room and looked at his mom. She was sitting up, dressed, wearing lip gloss and smiling. For a quick beat, he stared at her, so relieved he couldn’t get a word out. She looked good today. Happy. Even playful—although that never boded well for him. “Mom,” he murmured affectionately, and bent to kiss her cheek.

“Hey, baby,” she murmured back, cupping his cheek. “Did you do your homework already?”

Ignoring that, he turned to Bailey and lifted a brow.

To her credit, she met his gaze head-on. “Hello again,” she said with an easy smile.

“You two know each other?” his mom asked in delight.

“We met on the mountain earlier,” Hud said.

“He rescued me,” Bailey said, eyes smiling into Hud’s. “Fixed my ski.”

“Well that makes this even better,” Carrie said. “She’s an artist. I hired her to paint a mural. For you, Hud.”

Because he hadn’t taken his eyes off the woman in the chair, he watched her blink in surprise and her mouth fall open in shock.

“Wait,” she said slowly, dividing a gaze between Hud and his mom. “You’re her son? But you’re not—”

He gave a small shake of his head and she broke off from finishing her sentence. But you’re not a little boy…

Nope. “Mom, we’ve gone over this,” he said quietly.“You can’t just hire people over the Internet, okay? They might not be what you think and you could get ripped off.”

“Bailey’s not going to rip me off,” his mom said, frowning. “And you’re being incredibly rude. Sit down. You’re growing like a weed. You’re so tall you’re giving me a neck kink.”

Hud didn’t budge.

His mom sighed. “I don’t know which of you is more stubborn, you or Jacob.”

Hud knew. It was Jacob. By far.

“Well if you’re not going to sit, at least stop looking like you’re out for blood,” his mom said. “I sought her out. I hired her.”