My Kind of Wonderful(20)

She dropped her head to his chest and let out a low laugh.

He ran his hand up her slim spine now and gently cupped the back of her head—still in the cherry-red cap—and tilted her face back up to his. “Tell me.”

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

He didn’t move. Hell, he didn’t breathe.

“Really,” she said. “I’m more okay than I’ve been in ten years.”

He stared into her eyes, caught the absolute joyous truth swimming there, and let out a breath and nodded in relief.

She was still smiling, looking pretty damn beautiful while she was at it, when her gaze dropped to his mouth and her breath caught.

“Bailey,” he said, and her eyes met his and held. “Bay,” he whispered, and she sort of melted against him as he brushed his hand down her cheek and then around to the nape of her neck.

The next move was hers, he told himself. Had to be.

She hesitated and he told himself he was good with that, but then her eyes dropped to his mouth again and held… And then after a heart-stopping pause during which they shared air, she leaned in and brushed her lips gently to his.

She tasted like warm sunshine and sweet woman, and when she whispered, “Really, really okay,” against him, he groaned. He dragged her in closer with the hand he had on her neck and kissed her this time, deep and hot, until they were both breathless.

She drew back, just a fraction, and stared up at him with those eyes filled with a little surprise, like she couldn’t believe the electricity between them.

He was not a little surprised.

He was stunned.

He could feel her warm breath on his face and the heat of her body just barely touching his, and he wanted her with an ache that couldn’t be explained.

As if she could read that want, her mouth curved and then she kissed him again, sighing into his mouth, surrendering to the heat, the passion. His hands cupped her face as the two of them stayed locked together for an endless moment. She pressed herself against him like she needed even more, letting her hands drift over his shoulders, his chest, whatever she could reach. He absolutely returned the favor. Holding her head cupped in a palm, he caressed her breast, her nipple hard under his touch, her moan soft on his tongue.

When they finally broke apart it was to stare at each other. She licked her lips like she wanted to hold on to the taste of him, and he groaned.

She smiled a little shyly—like she hadn’t just had her hands all over him—and without a single word slid into her car.

He was still standing there when her car vanished out of the parking lot.

What just happened?

The radio at his hip crackled and then his brother’s voice came out of it. “What the hell just happened?”

Hud turned his head and found Aidan leaning out of his office window, so far that Hud kind of hoped he fell. “Nothing,” he said.

“Nothing, my ass.”

That’s when Hud noticed the car that had been parked next to Bailey’s.

A ’68 Camaro.

Remembering the morning’s rescue, which now seemed like a million years ago, he pulled the set of keys from his pocket and stared down at them. “Shit.” He brought the radio back up to his mouth. “Can you find out about Sean, the compound fracture flown out earlier?”

“It’ll cost you,” Aidan said.

“Yeah, yeah, just do it.”

A minute later Aidan was back on the radio, telling Hud that Sean was out of surgery and his prognosis was good.

Hud got Sean’s address and called Gray to follow him and give Hud a ride back to the resort, but Gray showed up and slid into the shotgun position of the Camaro.

“What are you doing?” Hud asked. “I need you to follow me in your truck.”

“A ’68 Camaro,” Gray said, lovingly caressing the dash.

Hud rolled his eyes and called Aidan. “Need you to come out to the lot with your car keys.”

Aidan arrived, caught sight of the Camaro, and got in the backseat.

“You kidding me?” Hud asked him, eyeballing him in the rearview window.

“Man, do we have to take it back?”

Hud called Kenna. Thankfully she had a brain and followed them in her own car so that Hud could drive the Camaro home for Sean.

Back at the resort, they all scattered except for Gray, who stuck with Hud. “Tell me again why you returned your gift for rescuing some guy? And not just any gift, but a ’68 Camaro?”

“He thought he was dying,” Hud said.

“A ’68 Camaro,” Gray repeated.

Hud shook his head. “Next subject.”

“Fine. You kissed our cutie-pie muralist.”

Hell. “She kissed me.”

Gray grinned.

“She did.”

“You know what that makes you?” Gray asked.

“What?”

“Slow.” Gray’s smiled faded then. “Do we know her story?”

“You mean other than you guys decided we needed her to paint our wall?”

“You know what I’m asking,” Gray said.

“Yeah,” Hud said. “And she says she’s okay.” Which he really hoped was true.

“And you?” Gray asked. “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”