Brides and Brothers by Anneka R. Walker

Chapter 16

Camille

When you have an online job, sleeping in is a total perk. Except now Camille ran a large household, and the numbers on the clock blared her tardiness for breakfast duty. She threw on a sweatshirt and rushed to the bathroom to pull her hair into a messy bun. Until she could think of a way to rid the house of her new brothers, she was going to do whatever she could to maintain order and structure. Unlike yesterday morning, though, she was not the first one to the kitchen.

Camille heard Flynn before she saw him. “Where did all the cereal go?” Flynn roared. “I thought you said you went grocery shopping this week, E.”

Camille wanted to run and hide. They weren’t supposed to find out about her pantry clean-out yet.

Easton entered the narrow storage closet to see for himself. “I did go shopping. I bought four big bags. Half were the marshmallow kind, and half were the chocolate kind, same as always.”

When Camille was about to jump in and explain, she heard a third voice inside the pantry. “All the ramen noodles are gone too.” It must’ve been Daegan or Cade. Benson’s voice was deeper. But whoever it was sounded ticked.

“And all the Hostess products are missing.”

Camille put on a brave face and hurried to the pantry door. “Hey, if you’re looking for your cereal, it’s outside in the garbage.”

Fire lit Flynn’s eyes. His red hair would probably start smoking any minute. “Why would you mess with our food?”

This was bad. This was really bad. “I needed shelf room for, you know, real food. Besides, think about its nutritional value and all those preservatives. I want to help you eat better. But don’t worry, I still believe in dessert.”

Easton looked doubtful. “We’re big boys, and we can make those kinds of decisions for ourselves.”

Camille’s cheeks burned. She had planned on making them so many wonderful meals that they wouldn’t even notice their junk food was missing. Wanting to clear space for other baking goods she planned to buy wasn’t even part of her plan to kick them out of the house. It wasn’t about the healthy stuff, either, but more about the chance to cook for her new family. Explaining it that way sounded pathetic.

“If you want cereal, I did leave a few boxes,” she said, pointing to the top shelf behind them.

“Raisin Bran, Mini Wheats, and Cheerios,” one of the twins said. Which one had strawberry-blond hair again? “I think these are expired by over a year. They’re going to taste as stale as the bread Cade found one time and tried to toast so we wouldn’t notice.”

Camille didn’t even grimace because she was too busy congratulating herself for catching the reference to Daegan’s twin. Now she at least knew whom she was addressing.

Camille opened her mouth to say something, but Flynn pulled out the box of Raisin Bran and spoke first. “This stuff has nineteen sugars in it. My marshmallow kind only has thirteen. You threw out the wrong stuff.”

“I’m impressed you read food labels. Raisin Bran provides good roughage, which I know is sometimes necessary.” Camille’s attempt to lighten the mood fell on deaf ears.

Flynn glared. “I eat cereal seven days a week. I eat it when I wake up and before I go to bed. I think I’ve had sufficient time to stare at the box.”

“If he wanted to throw it out,” Easton added, “he would’ve done it himself.”

“I’m going to have a word with Aiden,” Flynn said, marching out of the pantry.

Camille put her hand out to stop him but quickly withdrew it as he brushed rudely by. “Wait, I haven’t fully explained!”

Flynn kept marching toward the master bedroom.

Daegan called out to him. “Wait, Flynn, let’s hear everything so we can honestly say Camille is a cereal killer without feeling any guilt.”

Camille rolled her eyes but was relieved when Flynn stopped and turned back to face the group. “Nice one,” she said, “but you’ll take it back when I’m finished.” She stared at the three of them and made one big sweeping motion with her hand to include them all in what she was about to say. “You’re right. You’re all big boys and can make decisions for yourself. I just thought big boys like yourselves would want a big breakfast to give you energy throughout your day. I assumed you’d choose pancakes, eggs, French toast, breakfast casserole, yogurt, granola, oatmeal, hash browns, and maybe even the occasional Danish. I’m an artist when it comes to Danishes, by the way.” Camille paused for effect. “I must’ve assumed wrong.”

“Hold it.” Easton edged closer. “Are you saying you’d cook breakfasts superior even to the deluxe at McDonald’s for us? Every single morning?”

Camille nodded slowly and smiled. Deep down, she shared the same heart for catering as her mother did, even if she didn’t like to openly admit to any similarities between them.

“All right,” Daegan said, raising his hand. “I’m totally all about the French toast, but granola? I don’t think so.”

Flynn folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t you think you could have talked this out with us last night? Did you have to throw away our cereal? That stuff is sacred breakfast food.”

Easton snorted. “It’s sacred because we’ve survived off it for the last decade. We don’t have to anymore. Camille is offering to make real food for us. I say who cares about the cereal? Camille, you have my humblest apologies. And, for the record, I really like French toast.”

Laughing from relief, Camille said, “Then, we have an agreement. But please don’t lick your plate. It’s a pet peeve of mine.”

Daegan and Easton nodded, and finally Flynn added his mumbled agreement. She waited for something more from him, but that was all he had to say. It must’ve meant he was appeased too, but she couldn’t quite tell. Who knew what the mountain man was hiding under his beard? A scowl? Was he baring his teeth?

Taking a deep breath, she rushed to make a quick meal of scrambled eggs and toast. She didn’t want the men to add the fact that they were late to class to their reasons to dislike her. She threw on some bacon to prove her generosity. She hoped feeding them didn’t interfere with her new mantra: I love you, but please move out.

Aiden

Aiden was in over his head. No one should get married at the beginning of potato harvest. He had been working long hours and had hardly seen Camille. After several long days in the potato shed moving the conveyor belt as the trucks came in with the spuds, he had a short-term solution and a long-term one. It had taken a few phone calls, but he’d finally found a brother to cover for him so he could put into play his short-term plan. He drove home and found Camille in his office with her headphones on, bent over her computer. She had three pencils stuck in her bun. A new look?

He smiled and slipped away to shower. Dirt covered every inch of him. Once he was clean and dressed, he was ready to surprise Camille. He knocked on the office door and slipped inside.

Pulling off her headphones, Camille smiled. “Hey, you’re home before dinner. That’s a first.”

Aiden hoped his smile showed how apologetic he was. “It’s Friday night and our two-week anniversary. How about dinner in town tonight?”

Her eyes widened. “What about the others?”

“What about them?” Aiden asked. “Can’t a guy eat with his wife? I’ll order pizza for my brothers, and you and I can get some needed alone time.”

Camille jumped out of her seat. “Seriously? I’ll get my shoes and jacket. Don’t change your mind before I get back.” She darted past him, but he caught her around the waist. She gave him a questioning stare.

He reached up and pulled a pencil out of her hair. “This is cute.”

Camille groaned and took it from him. “That’s where it went.”

Aiden pulled the other two out and added them to the one in her hands.

“I might have been a little nervous uploading the video lessons I made.”

“It looks like you earned a break.”

Camille gave him an exaggerated nod. “Don’t answer your phone or anything until I return. You’re taking a break from work too!”

He watched her leave and frowned. Had he been working too much for her? Long hours were his normal, but Camille wasn’t used to his home and family yet. He ran his hand through his hair and down his face. Why had he thought it was a good idea to bring Camille into his world? She deserved a normal life, but the only way to give her that was to make more money. Even though the house was Aiden’s inheritance, he wasn’t going to kick his brothers out without some sort of fair situation. It was time to make the final alterations to his software and search for a buyer. He’d promised to do his best to make Camille happy, and he aimed to keep that promise. Unfortunately, that meant more work for now, not less.