Brides and Brothers by Anneka R. Walker

Chapter 19

Camille

Another week passed, and Camille wasn’t sure if she was making progress on her master plan or burying herself. Flynn and Sage had had a killer first date, and the twins seemed pretty happy about their double date with Macey and Raina. Overall, Camille should’ve been happy, but her supportive attitude about Aiden’s work hours was being put to the test, and she worried she’d put her focus on the wrong area. She found herself watching the clock for the umpteenth time, waiting for Aiden to be done for the day, wondering if she’d crack. She grabbed her phone and punched in Daisha’s number.

“Hello?”

Camille sighed, pushing the doors open to the family room. “So glad you aren’t in class. I’m going crazy!”

“What’s up?”

Not wanting to go into details, she said, “I need someone to paint my nails. And someone to watch a chick flick with. And maybe someone who can smile a whole lot and tell me funny stories.”

“You need three people?” Daisha asked. “Well, I can offer my services, but who else did you have in mind?”

Camille flung herself down on the couch. “You’re a multitasker. You’ll do.”

“It just so happens that Derek has a test tonight, so I’m free after dinner.”

“Thank you!” Camille sighed again. “I knew you’d be there for me. Is this a cheat night?”

Daisha snorted. “Heck no. I’ll bring some of my homemade kefir yogurt and some berries. You’re a sugar-loaded, high-carb temptress, and I refuse to come over if you plan to bust out any—”

“Save your breath,” Camille interrupted. “I’ll be on my best behavior. I’ll only eat granola or plain popcorn. But in return, you have to bring your glittery hot-pink nail polish for me to borrow. I’m having withdrawals.”

“Deal. I’ll see you at seven.”

The sun took its sweet time passing over the sky, inching at a painful pace before disappearing over the horizon. When Daisha pulled up, Camille was waiting on the front steps with a fleece blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

Daisha hopped out of her twenty-year-old Nissan Sentra and gave Camille a quick hug. “So what’s up? Please don’t tell me it’s marriage related. I knew you guys should’ve dated longer.”

The comment stung. It sounded like something her mother would say, if she ever bothered to call. Camille had never regretted marrying Aiden so quickly. Yes, she was needy for attention, but that was all.

“Sorry,” Daisha said. “That was harsh.”

Camille tacked on a smile. “Come on, can’t a girl get sick of being around six guys all the time?”

Daisha raised her brow.

“Seriously,” Camille said. “That’s all this is. You’ll fill my bucket tonight, and presto, I’ll be good for another few weeks.”

Daisha was about to reply when her phone buzzed from inside the small black purse she had slung across her chest. Daisha pulled her cell out and glanced at the screen. “Hmm, it’s Emma. She never calls me. Let me get this.”

Camille leaned closer, curious about what Emma wanted.

“What’s up?” Daisha said into her phone. “Oh? I’m hanging out with Camille tonight. We’re doing a little girl time.” She paused before exclaiming, “Are you kidding? We would totally love to have you hang with us!” She gave Camille a pleading look, and Camille nodded in encouragement. Daisha told Emma to head on over before saying goodbye. “That was weird,” she said. “Emma’s been super antisocial all semester. This is a huge step for her.”

“It’s perfect,” Camille said, wrapping the blanket tighter around her neck to ward off the fall chill. “Now you can worry about her and not me. I couldn’t have planned it better myself. Emma needs to get out, and I need a distraction.”

Benson’s silver pickup truck rumbled up the driveway. It skidded to a stop right behind them. Through the open window, Benson’s grin showed his pleasure in seeing Daisha again. Daisha, however, shifted her feet uncomfortably. Camille crossed her fingers that Benson wouldn’t ruin his second chance.

He hopped out of his truck, and Camille grimaced. Dirt clung to every article of clothing he wore, and his face hadn’t been spared.

“Daisha, good to see you.” He pointed to her tote of nail polish. “Are you two having a girls’ night?”

Daisha nodded slowly. Her face took on her favorite bored look that had told many a guy she wasn’t interested.

“Sweet,” Benson replied. “I’ll round the guys up for a basketball game.”

Surprise lit up Daisha’s eyes. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. Feel free to do what you’d usually do.”

Benson shrugged. “Camille deserves some girl time, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I think Camille deserves all the happiness in the world.”

“Then, we agree.” Benson grinned again, his even white teeth a stark contrast against his dirty face.

Camille glanced sideways to see Daisha appreciating Benson’s smile, too, and more than a little.

“Well, I’d better get washed up,” Benson said after a moment. “Let me get the door for you ladies.” As they walked inside together, he asked Daisha, “Do you play any sports?”

“I play a little basketball and a lot of volleyball.”

Benson offered the use of their court before asking another stream of questions about high school sports and college intramural teams. Camille must’ve missed something because after a few minutes she started to feel like the third wheel. Her mind wandered until Daisha busted up over something Benson said before launching into a funny story of her own. What was happening here? This wasn’t Mr. Potato Head, although he certainly looked like he’d come from rolling in the ground. He was actually flirting, and Daisha was responding. This was an interesting development.

The ring of the doorbell broke up the magic. Or, at least, it seemed like it from where Camille stood. Benson took off to shower, and Camille pulled Daisha back toward the front door.

“What was that?” she whispered.

Daisha had the gall to feign innocence. “Nothing. Just saying hi to Benson.”

Camille wanted to argue, but if Daisha was going to have a sudden change of attitude toward her brother-in-law, Camille needed to keep her mouth shut. She pulled open the door to see Emma dressed more for a date than a girl’s night. Gone were the ever-present glasses and shapeless clothes. Her makeup was flawless, and her outfit, while semicasual, was fitted in all the right places.

“Hey, Emma!” Camille said. “We weren’t planning on going out, but we can, if that’s what you were interested in.”

Daisha elbowed Camille. Whoops. She was talking before thinking again.

“Oh no,” Emma’s soft voice assured them. “I was planning on hanging out here with you guys. I hope there’s a chick flick on the schedule.”

“Definitely,” Daisha answered for Camille.

The women sauntered across the house and ended up in the family room. Oddly enough, the men had vacated the room for them. It was even absent of dirty socks. Camille had spent hours lecturing the guys to clean up, but the subject had never seemed to sink in. She’d bet money Benson was behind this cleanup.

Camille and Daisha plopped themselves on a couch while Emma sat rather regally in a chair across from them. After a few minutes of chatting, Camille noticed Emma take several conspicuous glances toward the kitchen and hallway.

“So, Emma . . . are you hungry?” Camille asked.

Emma’s blush accentuated her deep cheekbones. “No, not at all. I was kind of hoping to say hello to Easton tonight. Not to talk to him or anything—just to say hi so he didn’t think I was rude.”

“Rude?” Camille asked, confused. “Why would he think that?”

Emma squirmed. “You know, for coming to his house but not because of him.” She said the last part a little fast. “He told you I’m his calculus tutor, right?”

Camille’s brows rose. “No, I had no idea.”

“He asked me out at the beginning of the semester, but I turned him down. I’m surprised he’s still been coming to our tutoring sessions, but he’s never missed one. Honestly, I wish I could go back and say yes. He’s a great guy, and my dating history messed up my confidence.”

Camille glanced at Daisha, but she appeared equally enlightened. Was this really antisocial Emma? Whenever boys were invited to her apartment, Emma acted like the plague itself was hiding behind the door ready to jump out and strike her down. Camille blinked a few times to make sure she was seeing reality. First Benson and Daisha were acting chummy and now Emma and Easton.

“Would it make you feel better if we walked over to the barn and said hello?” Camille asked.

Emma shrank a little in her seat. “No, it’s not important. I don’t want to seem overeager.”

Daisha put her hands out in front of her. “Whoa, girl! I know what you’re saying, but I’m hearing something totally different. Are you interested in Easton?”

Emma’s light-blue eyes flew wide. She whipped her head behind her to see if someone had overheard them. Fortunately, the hall was still empty. “Daisha!” she hissed.

Daisha pointed to the seat next to her, which was deeper into the family room than the chair Emma occupied. Emma crossed over to her and sat down. Camille hopped up and took a seat on the arm of the couch so as not to miss a single detail.

“Well?” Daisha prompted.

A pink stain spread across Emma’s cheeks. “I don’t think he would ever ask me out again. He probably thinks I’m some big math nerd . . . which I am.”

“Timing is important,” Camille said. She should know. “Things didn’t work out for you in the past, but that doesn’t mean God won’t open a door for you now.”

Daisha touched Emma’s shirt. “This is cute. How come I never see you get all dolled up?”

Emma shrugged. “I used to put a lot of effort into my hair and makeup. But one of the biggest reasons my last relationship failed was because it was superficial. I’m done with guys who want high-maintenance girls. Do you want to know something ironic? The night Easton asked me out I was wearing my glasses and a baggy T-shirt. I’m probably making the biggest mistake ever. Sage is getting to me.”

“Sage?” Camille asked.

Emma nodded. “All she’s talked about this week has been her run-ins and phone calls with Flynn. It’s been the longest week ever. I’m used to Sage’s boyfriends keeping her tied up, but this is different.” Emma’s gaze flicked to the kitchen again, and she lowered her voice. “Sage has changed. I found her skimpy clubbing clothes in the garbage, and I caught her eating real food instead of her diet shakes.”

Daisha glanced at Camille. “And you think it’s because of Flynn?”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, she said something about how Flynn wants her to be healthy and insisted she eat more.”

“What about the wardrobe change?” Camille asked.

Emma smiled. “Sage says Flynn is a decent guy, and she wants to be a decent girl for him. It’s like she’s finally decided what kind of person she wants to be. She says Flynn is the best guy she’s ever met, and she doesn’t want to mess it up. If you ask me, she’s made up her mind to try to have a relationship with him—one with long-term potential.”

Camille couldn’t wait to tell Aiden she had proof at least one of her matchups was a success. She resisted doing a fist pump in the air.

“Emma, I think it’s awesome that Sage is into Flynn,” Daisha hedged, “but are you ready to date again?”

“I’m ready,” Emma said. “Remember how much I wanted to prove this whole insta-wedding thing was a no-go? Camille, I love seeing how content you are. It’s given me faith that a happily ever after could exist for me too.”

Content?Camille’s firsthand knowledge of what a successful marriage looked like was minimal. She was beginning to feel resentful toward Aiden’s work hours, but besides that, she was content. She gave Emma a reassuring smile.

Emma continued. “The whole ice-cream setup was a little much though. I was tempted to spit in the ice cream, but now I have to congratulate you. It worked. I flirted for the first time in forever. I mean, who eats ice cream and sweats bullets?”

“Easton?” Daisha asked.

Emma laughed softly. “No, me. I was an awkward mess.”

“He’s a cute guy,” Camille said, leaning her arm over the back of the couch. “I think you chose well.”

Emma sighed. “I can hardly believe I’m attracted to someone after all this time. I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s like coming out of the Great Depression.”

There was silence for a moment as they digested Emma’s confession. Perhaps there was a bit of shock as well. “So . . . ,” Camille said. “You came over to hang with us as a pretense to see Easton? I think I’m okay with that.”

“No . . . maybe . . . sorry.” Emma grimaced.

“I did not see this coming,” Daisha muttered.

Camille elbowed her. “What do you mean? I’m Camille the matchmaker.”

Daisha rolled her eyes and shook her head. “What I didn’t see coming was all of my roommates falling for Peterson boys.”

Camille patted her on the hand like a puppy. “Don’t worry, little munchkin, there’s still one left for you.”

Daisha’s brown eyes widened. “Derek! Remember?” She shook her head. “I see some potential relationships here, but I can’t tell you if any of the boys reciprocate these girls’ feelings.”

Camille bit on her thumbnail. Guys could be hard to read sometimes. And attraction didn’t mean commitment. “Wait, idea!” She clapped her hands together. “I’m so, so, so brilliant!”

Daisha and Emma looked at her expectantly.

“We need to arrange more time together,” Camille said. “It’s tradition to have a dance in the Peterson barn to celebrate the end of harvest. It’s a big Halloween party. A lot of the local students and single adults come. You should all join us!”

Emma seemed oddly pleased with the idea, despite being as shy as Camille had pegged her for. Daisha, however, shook her head.

“Daisha, you have to come. ‘All for one and one for all,’” Camille begged.

Daisha laughed sardonically. “I’m not a musketeer, Camille. Besides, Derek will want to hang out together on Halloween.”

Emma smiled conspiratorially at Camille. “You should bring Derek with you,” she said to Daisha. “We need your matronly support at the dance.” At least someone was getting into the spirit of things.

“Matronly?” Daisha balked. “What do you mean by that?”

It was Camille’s turn to laugh. “Come on, Daisha. As the oldest, you need to drive the battle forces to victory.”

“You’ve been reading way too much these days. Or maybe it’s your online class. Whatever it is, you need to stop. As far as the dance goes, I’ll discuss it with Derek, my boyfriend.”

Camille reached across Daisha and fist-bumped Emma, then bounced off her perch on the arm of the couch and stretched her back. “Let’s get operation Get Your Peterson Brother underway. How about we bring some lemonade to the basketball players so Easton has a chance to check out how good Emma looks tonight.”

Daisha groaned. “Are we back in high school?” Despite her lack of enthusiasm, she followed behind them to the kitchen.

It didn’t take long to whip up some lemonade from a mix and take the short walk from the house to the barn. The boys stopped their game as the ladies entered, and Camille carried the pitcher to a stack of chairs in the corner. She flipped one over and set her pitcher there. Emma stepped forward with the cups and started pouring.

“How did you know we were thirsty?” Benson asked while the others started shooting again. He accepted a glass of lemonade from Emma while Daisha grabbed a free ball and dribbled toward the basket to shoot hoops with the other guys. Camille stepped aside, hoping to let her friends do their thing without her interfering. She leaned her back against the wall and watched the ball players.

“Hey, it’s Emma, right?”

“Yes, Emma Stewart.”

Camille smiled softly, glad Benson was engaging Emma in conversation. She stole a glance to see Emma put her arm across her front to grip her other arm, the only outward sign she was nervous. Emma’s eyes strayed to Easton, who shot a three-pointer from the other end of their undersized court.

“Do you know Easton?” Benson must have caught the direction of Emma’s gaze too. He wasn’t usually great at small talk, but this conversation was proof he was improving. Too bad he wasn’t talking with Daisha. Camille was still convinced he fit her better than Derek did.

Emma’s small blue eyes matched the rest of her petite features. “We meet once a week to work on calculus.”

Benson’s eyes widened. “You’re the calculus girl? You like him, don’t you?”

It was more of a statement than a question, and Camille wanted to slap her forehead. Apparently, they needed more late-night coaching sessions about what was socially acceptable to say and what wasn’t.

“He’s a likeable guy,” Emma answered in a soft voice.

Benson nodded again. Did people normally nod the whole time they talked to someone? Camille turned her body a little so it didn’t look like she was paying attention to their every word—which she was.

“I heard he started dating someone,” Emma added. Camille had heard this too. Wendy. She didn’t know who the girl was, but she couldn’t be as sweet as Emma.

The sound of lemonade being poured into a glass reached Camille’s ears amongst the pounding of the balls against the wood floor and the occasional slap against the headboard.

“I wouldn’t write him off completely,” Benson finally replied. “Easton usually knows exactly what he wants and doesn’t give up easily.”

“And you like Daisha? Just a guess by the way you’re watching her play.” Emma’s quiet words made Camille’s mouth drop open. She leaned her head back to catch Benson’s answer.

“She’s a likeable woman. In fact, I bet she can outshoot me. I’d better go see. Thanks for the lemonade.”

Camille watched Benson out of the corner of her eyes as he sauntered back onto the court. She finally knew what was worse than her plan not working. Worse would be it half-working, leaving some of her favorite people heartbroken.