Brides and Brothers by Anneka R. Walker

Chapter 31

Camille

Daisha stared at Benson’s contact information Camille had just texted to her and groaned. They were sitting cross-legged on the floor of Daisha and Amy’s room while Amy made a smoothie in the kitchen per Camille’s orders—it was the one recipe Amy had mastered and would be Daisha’s reward if she found enough courage to follow through.

“Don’t just look at it,” Camille said. “Call him.”

Daisha tapped her phone against her forehead. “Why? Why did I sign up to research potatoes? Those Peterson brothers have brainwashed me.”

Camille knew the answer but kept it to herself. Daisha had chosen the potatoes for one reason—Benson. But since Daisha never chased guys, it made her phone call even more difficult.

“If you don’t want Benson’s help, it’s okay. I just don’t want you to regret missing this opportunity just because you were too chicken to call a guy.”

“Nice, Camille. Your reverse psychology won’t work on me.” Daisha stared at the single window over Amy’s bed. “But, for the record, I’m not scared of anything.”

“Except calling Benson.” Camille bit back her smile.

Daisha huffed and grabbed her phone, pushing the call button as if it were no big deal.

“Speakerphone!” Camille said quickly.

With the tap of a button the ringtone became audible for Camille. She clapped her hands as silently as possible and sat back against Daisha’s bed to listen.

Benson answered on the third ring. Daisha took a deep breath, and when she exhaled, out came her reason for calling. “I’m doing a research paper on the diverse ways to market starches as health foods. Naturally, the potato seemed like the perfect choice of topic. Do you think I could interview you?” Daisha made a line in the carpet with her finger over and over as she waited for his response.

“Sure. How does Friday night sound? I’ll make you a potato dinner to get us in the right spirit to discuss your paper.”

Daisha gaped. She turned to Camille and pointed to the phone, mouthing, What should I say?

Friday was the same night Raina and Macey were staging their revenge on Cade and Daegan, but Daisha didn’t need to be involved in that. Camille mouthed back, Say yes!

Daisha cleared her throat. “Yeah, you can come over then.” She ended the call and put her hand up to her heart. “Everything in my life is unpredictable these days. This guy is at the top of the list. I swear I can’t interpret his signals. Does he like me, or does he want to come over to see Emma?”

“Benson might be a little confusing, but I’m happy you’re thinking about him and not Derek. That’s positive.”

Daisha leaned back next to Camille and stretched out her long legs. “Is it wrong that I’m emotionally unattached to the breakup? How could I have dated someone for so long and not known how I really felt?”

“At least you’re beginning to acknowledge that there might be room in your life for Benson.” Okay, so Daisha had never said that in so many words, but it was implied.

“He’s so sincere. I like that.”

“Me too,” Camille said, resting her head on Daisha’s shoulder. Aiden was that way too.

“It’s like Benson can see right through me. Then there’s his . . .”

“His what?”

“His dimpled chin, creamy dark eyes, and broad shoulders.”

“Bonuses,” Camille said, and they both laughed.

“Should I tell him straight up that if we start dating, he has to take me dancing again? Because that might be what finally caught my attention.”

Camille closed her eyes and stifled a yawn. Her energy wasn’t the same anymore. “You’ve been holding out on me. Why else do you like him?”

Daisha was rarely forthright with her feelings, but today seemed to be the exception. “I didn’t tell you, but when Flynn proposed to Sage, before we could leave the house to spy on them, Benson grabbed my hand.”

“What?” Camille sat up. “How did I miss this?”

“He didn’t hold hold my hand. He just held it for long enough to put his gloves on my hands.”

Camille cooed, “Daisha, that is so sweet!”

“I know! It totally made up for the whole Oreo thing.”

Amy knocked on the door and stuck her head inside. “Did you call him?”

Daisha nodded.

“Perfect, because the smoothies are ready. I tried something new, and this recipe is going to blow your mind.”

Daisha and Camille shared a look. Amy hadn’t inherited a single culinary skill, so even a new smoothie recipe made them apprehensive. After Amy skipped back into the kitchen, Camille said, “You know you have to drink it for the same reasons you had to call Benson.”

“And why is that?” Daisha said, her nose wrinkling.

“Because you aren’t scared of anything.”

On the Friday night before Thanksgiving, Camille went over again to help pick out an outfit for Daisha to wear on her date with Benson and to keep an eye on Raina and Macey’s crazy revenge scheme.

Daisha stood in front of the long mirror attached to the back of her bedroom door, scrutinizing her emerald-green sweater and leggings. “This isn’t a rebound date, is it?”

Amy stepped forward, holding up a pair of her chunky earrings. “Not at all. It’s barely even a date since you’re ruining it with homework.”

“No earrings,” Daisha said. She wasn’t one to do the makeup thing, either, but Camille thought it a promising sign when she applied a touch of lipstick and combed at her black curls with her fingers. She’d never put lipstick on for Derek. “I think I’m ready.”

“You look gorgeous,” Camille assured her. “Are you sure you want me to be here? Amy has her study group, and I really don’t want to be a third wheel.”

“You have to stay here,” Amy said. “Emma told us you’re having a hard time being alone in the evenings. Daisha, don’t let her leave.”

Camille groaned. “Fine, but I’m putting in my earbuds and reading a book.”

“At least stay on the couch in the main room where you’re around people,” Daisha said. “Then, if you feel like being social, you can join in.”

The doorbell rang, silencing the complaints on the tip of Camille’s tongue.

Raina practically leapt through her bedroom door at the sound. “They’re early! I’m not ready!”

“Relax,” Daisha called to her. “It’s Benson.”

“Benson?” Raina said, walking back to her room. “I didn’t know he was coming over. He isn’t going to ruin our plans, is he?”

“He has no idea anything else is going on tonight. When do your dates arrive?”

Raina pointed to the clock. “Half hour. And I’m ridiculously nervous. Macey isn’t back from the library yet.”

Daisha walked past her toward the front room and called back over her shoulder, “It’s a little harmless prank, and Macey wouldn’t abandon you for the world. She’s planned every detail.”

Daisha pulled open the door, and Camille and Amy leaned out of the bedroom to watch.

Benson’s full lips pulled into a wide grin. “Who planned every detail?”

Daisha had been yelling to Raina, so it was no surprise Benson had overhead her last line. He stepped inside carrying a bag of potatoes in one arm and a lidded pot with the other.

“You planned every detail,” Daisha said. “Come in. It’s freezing outside.”

She shut the door against the frigid air blasting its way all the way down the hall to Camille and Amy.

“Time for me to go,” Amy said. She made a little whiney noise. “I’m so sad I’m missing this. Tell me every detail when I get back.”

Camille nodded, tucking her book under her arm. “Study hard.”

“Always.” Amy hitched her backpack higher on her shoulder, and Camille followed her to the front door and waved goodbye.

“Thanks for coming,” Daisha said behind her to Benson. “This is really great of you to help me out.”

Benson shrugged. “It’s more like you’re helping me out.”

Daisha’s eyebrows slung together. “How’s that?”

Camille knew the answer. “Because I’ve taken over the kitchen and refuse to cook potatoes more than once a week. Don’t mind me. I’m going to crank up my music and read my book. You won’t even notice me.”

Benson chuckled and turned to Daisha. “I believe in living off the land as much as possible. It’s not only economical but—”

“Healthier,” Daisha finished for him. They both nodded and laughed. “I agree with you, though I’m partial to variety myself.” She pointed to the table. “Put your stuff down here. I’ll get a peeler, and we can get started.”

“If you’re eating the potato for its health benefits, then let’s leave the skin on. I’ll wash them thoroughly in the sink.”

“When you say health benefits, what exactly do you mean?” Daisha quizzed.

Camille settled onto the couch, stuck her earbuds in, and opened her book. If she knew Daisha, then her friend already knew the answer, and by the way Benson looked at her, he knew she knew. Instead of turning on her music, she paused to listen to Benson’s response. It would have to be good if he wanted to impress Daisha.

“They’re loaded with fiber, potassium, iron, and niacin. Potatoes benefit our body’s cells, skin, heart, and digestion, and if eaten with the peel, they aren’t too bad on the blood sugar either.”

Daisha blinked. “I’d hoped your knowledge extended this far, based on our previous conversation, but I have to say I’m impressed.”

“It might surprise you, but I know about more than just potatoes.” Benson opened his bag and pulled out a large russet.

Daisha bit back her smile. “I’m sorry if I implied anything else, though I find it intriguing that you’re more than a grower. I’m interested in the best way to treat our bodies because I’ve seen people I love abuse theirs. I’ve done some research online, but I should’ve waited and asked you.”

“No worries. If a guy wants to be competitive in any business, he has to know his product.”

“I can see the significance of how that knowledge could help you find buyers and market your work, but what irks me is when potatoes are advertised as healthy and then are fried in fat with salt, MSG, and other garbage.”

“Then soaked in preservatives,” Benson added.

“Yes. A perfectly good potato loses all its health benefits and turns into a carb-loaded heart attack.”

Camille should really turn on her music, but Daisha’s voice was escalating, and her passion was coming out as a full-on attack.

“Whoa, the grower isn’t your enemy,” Benson said. “And don’t waste your breath on pesticides, or it’ll be a long night.”

“I wasn’t trying to attack you. It’s not personal; I promise. Why don’t we talk about something else?”

Benson took the lid off his pot and revealed a few things he had packed inside. He took out a cutting board and knife and brought them to the sink.

“Why don’t you come help me wash these? I’ll entertain you with some potato jokes that will spice up that paper you’re writing.”

“You can’t be serious,” Daisha said. “You know potato jokes?”

“You have to wash five potatoes to hear one.”

“Now you’re joking.”

Benson shook his head. “My mom used that trick to get us to work. I can judge by the fact that you’re on the other side of the room from me that you need a little motivation.”

Camille shifted so she could get a better view. This was better than watching Hallmark. She felt guilty but reasoned that she’d only stayed because the girls had insisted.

Daisha shook her head and started moving her feet in his direction. There was only a small open space—just enough for a dishwasher—in the small apartment kitchen, between the wall and the sink, where Benson stood. It was a tight fit. By the way Daisha was acting, with her normally steady emotions a little jumpy, she’d likely hyperventilate in such close proximity to him.

Daisha picked up a potato and scrubbed the skin under the water in the sink. “I’m actually a very hard worker, I’ll have you know.”

Camille almost laughed. Why had Daisha felt the need to say that? Benson didn’t care.

“I’m sure you are,” he said. “I only want to tell you some of my jokes to prove I have a sense of humor.”

“Potato jokes only prove you have a dorky sense of humor.”

Benson’s profile looked affronted. “My jokes are amazing.”

“Let’s hear them, then.”

“Nice try. You’ve only washed two potatoes.”

Daisha washed three more at a ridiculous speed. “There. Done!”

Benson dropped his knife and leaned against the sink. The action forced Daisha to step back against the wall to create some space between them. Benson didn’t look at all uncomfortable. “What kind of potato kisses another potato?”

Daisha’s face went lax, and she stared at his lips, then whipped her gaze back to his. He smiled, and she blushed.

“Do you want to guess?” he asked.

“Um . . .”

Daisha was not the type to go speechless. She was a practical, rational person who had been proposed to before. Why was she fumbling over a kissing-potato joke? Camille put the book to her mouth to hold back her squeal of delight.

“Is that your guess?” Benson asked.

Daisha was trying to act cool—Camille gave her that—but she put her hand on the counter and missed that Benson’s was already in that exact spot. She jumped and put her hands behind her back against the wall. “My guess? Could you remind me of the joke?”

“What kind of potato kisses another potato?”

Daisha shrugged. “For the life of me, I can’t think of the answer.”

If Daisha were a potato and kissed the potato in front of her, then she would be a very lucky potato.

“A partici-tater.”

“A participator? Er, tater?” Daisha busted up. Daisha didn’t do the full-on laugh thing unless it was late at night and someone had convinced her to eat something sugary. She was laughing hard now, though, so hard she slid down the wall onto the floor. Benson had been almost too serious about the joke, making it funnier than it should’ve been.

“That’s the worst joke ever. I can’t breathe! Help me! I’ll die over that stupid joke!”

Benson grabbed her arms and pulled her to her feet. “Do you need mouth-to-mouth?”

Daisha’s laugh silenced instantly. Benson did not just say that. It was another joke, but again he’d been too serious when he said it. He blushed. Yeah, he was regretting that one. Daisha stared at him, and then they both started laughing.

Camille pulled her phone out and finally turned on her music. The heat in her own cheeks was proof she had been watching for far too long. She glanced up to see Daisha push her head into Benson’s shirt and Benson wrap his arms around her. They were still laughing, but Camille was wide-eyed.

The doorbell rang, and Benson dropped his arms and Camille looked away.

Raina bolted into the kitchen. “You can’t answer the door! Macey isn’t here yet. She texted to say she left the testing center. We need to stall.”

Camille pulled out an earbud in case she needed to help. Emma walked into the kitchen behind her. She was gorgeous. More than the makeup and cute clothes was the radiance behind her smile. She had bloomed.

“That must be Easton,” Emma said. “Have a good night, everyone.”

“Easton?” Daisha, Benson, and Raina all said at once.

Emma ignored them and slipped past Raina to the front door. Camille gave her a little knowing wave, and Emma smiled in return.

“Wait!” Raina hissed and bolted at lightning speed, beating Emma to the door. She threw her body across it. “If it isn’t Easton, then you cannot, and I repeat, cannot let whoever it is inside!”

“I’ll tell them nobody else is home.” Emma’s voice betrayed her confusion.

Raina put her hands together in prayer position. “Thank you, thank you!” She moved enough for Emma to pull the door open a few inches.

“You can relax, Raina. It’s Easton,” Emma reported.

Raina threw her head back and sighed dramatically. “What a relief. Okay, you can let him in.”

Easton barely squeezed through the door before Raina slammed it shut. She locked the door right as someone tried to twist the handle. She let out a scream of terror.

The person on the other side screamed too. Raina froze, then whipped the door open to see Macey on the other side. Raina threw herself into her sister’s arms and started sobbing.

Macey, breathing heavily, tried to pry herself from Raina’s arms. “What happened? What’s wrong? Why did you scream?”

Raina suddenly unwrapped herself from Macey, pulled her inside, and quickly shut the door again and locked it. “Macey! How could you do this to me? I’ve been waiting for you forever! I’m absolutely terrified our dates will come and you won’t be here to get me through this. It was your idea to ask out two perfect strangers!” Raina started crying again.

Macey reached up and put her arms around her taller, younger sister. “I made it back before they got here, so there isn’t anything to be upset about anymore. You know it had to be these two for our dates. They had to be impressive. I promise you don’t even have to do the talking when they show up. I’ve got it all arranged. It’ll be a fifteen-minute date max and then I’ll call it quits.”

Raina nodded and wiped at her eyes. Macey pointed Raina to the bathroom. “Go fix your mascara while I change my clothes.”

The two sisters exited the room, leaving the other four to gawk after them.

“Did I miss something?” Easton asked.

Camille pulled her book up and pretended interest. Only she and Daisha had any idea of the insane plan Macey had concocted for the night. While Raina had uttered words of conviction in favor of revenge the other night, she obviously hadn’t the spirit to carry out any of her threats.

Daisha picked up a potato. “We were swapping potato jokes. Do you know any good ones?” she asked Easton.

He shook his head. “I know too many. Ever heard the one about the potato that wouldn’t kiss the other potato?”

Daisha shook her head with a laugh. “Another kissing potato joke? What kind of family is this?”

The doorbell interrupted the punch line, but no one moved to answer the door. After all, Raina had predicted death itself to be on the other side.

Camille shifted so she could answer it, but Daisha straightened her shoulders and motioned for Camille to stay put. On the other side of the door stood two large men in jeans and winter jackets, one with facial hair and one without. They were several years older than Macey and Raina, possibly in their midthirties. It wasn’t their appearance that bothered Camille but the negative vibes radiating from them. Maybe it was her being judgmental or allowing Raina’s paranoia to get to her, but Camille felt threatened. She mentally catalogued what objects she could use to defend herself against these men should her feeling come to fruition.

“Can I help you?” Daisha asked.

“We’re here for the Gibbon sisters,” the one with the facial hair said.

Daisha knew about the plan, and yet Camille sensed Daisha was just as wary of letting these men into their apartment as she was. “Just a minute.” Daisha surprised her by shutting the door in their faces.

Benson crossed to her side. “Who are those guys? Do you want me to tell them to leave?”

Camille sized up Benson. He was as big as the two outside. She hadn’t ever been afraid of predators in general, but suddenly, having Benson and Easton around made her feel very safe.

“No,” Daisha said with a note of regret. “I’ll tell Macey and Raina their dates are here.”

“Dates?” Easton marched over to the window and split the blinds with his fingers. “Daegan and Cade were a few minutes behind me. They’re not going to like this.”

“Daegan and Cade?” Camille asked, feeling some of the blood leave her face. They were supposed to come after Macey and Raina had left. Then they’d realize how they’d made Macey and Raina feel and be ready to apologize. But if they came now, it was bound to get messy.

When Easton nodded, Daisha yelled louder, “Macey! Raina! Your dates are here, and you have to leave now!”

Macey came in practically dragging Raina with her. “Don’t worry; we’re ready. Carry on with your night. You never saw us.”

Macey opened the door, and the two men glared at her. She must not have noticed. “Hey, guys! Which one is Trevor again?”

“Me,” the one with facial hair said, his expensive watch catching the light before he took a step into the apartment.

Camille put her book down and stood, wishing she could push him back out, but she wasn’t brave enough.

“I’m George.” George’s wide, square head bobbed in acknowledgment before he pushed into the room too. He closed the door behind them, even as Macey clung to it.

Macey cleared her throat. “I’m Macey, if you didn’t remember. And this is my sister, Raina.” She motioned to Raina, who was standing awkwardly behind her. “Raina, you remember George, from the corn maze?” She said the words through clenched teeth.

Shoving her hands into her jeans pockets to keep herself still, Camille felt her anxiety rise a notch. This was not going well. Daegan and Cade could show up any second.

Trevor pulled Macey over to him and slung his arm around her shoulder. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t think the guy with the potato likes me.”

Macey slid out from under Trevor’s arm. “Who, Benson? No, he likes you. In fact, he wants us to stay so he can feed us dinner.” She glanced desperately at Daisha and then to Camille. Was she asking for an out?

Daisha nodded. “Yes, Benson here brought enough potatoes for everyone.”

“He’s a potato grower and a really good cook too,” Camille added.

Trevor put his arm back around Macey. “Nah, my girl and I are going out on the town. You guys can get all crazy with the potatoes without us. Don’t wait up.”

George took his cue and pulled Raina from the corner. He leaned down close, his face brushing Raina’s ear, and said, “I like shy girls.”

Raina’s terror reflected in her wide brown eyes. “You do? Because I’m not shy at all. In fact, I’m exactly what you don’t like. I think I’d better stay home.”

Macey coughed hard. “Oh, man. I’m getting sick. Raina might be right. We should call it a night.”

Trevor gripped the edge of the couch hard enough that Camille took a step away from him. “We drove twenty minutes to take you guys out. You wouldn’t want to disappoint us.”

Macey appealed to Camille and Daisha again with her eyes.

Thankfully, Daisha, their den mother, wasn’t a coward. “Sorry, guys, this isn’t going to work.” Her speech was interrupted by the doorbell. Everyone but Trevor and George froze.

“Don’t answer it!” Raina yelled.

“Answer it!” Macey yelled right back.

Easton squeezed by the crowd at the door. “I think it would be best if I got this.”

He pulled open the door to reveal Daegan and Cade. Their smiles dropped at the sight of the large strangers with their arms draped over the shoulders of their women. Aiden would not be happy when he heard about this. Where was the rewind button when they needed it?

“Hey, Macey,” Daegan began, his voice suspicious.

“What’s going on?” Cade’s voice was less calm and more alarmed. “Raina, have you been crying?”

Easton stepped back to let Daegan and Cade enter, moving closer to the kitchen. Macey and Raina started talking at once. Trevor held up his hand, and they went silent. “The potato man is in the back, if that’s who you’re here for. If you’ll kindly get out of our way, we’re leaving.”

Easton moved and grabbed Camille’s arm, whispering to her, “Come stand over here. I don’t have a good feeling about this.” Camille followed him behind the kitchen counter, where he corralled her and Emma. Trevor ushered Macey forward, and she looked back at Camille, sending one last plea for help.

Camille opened her mouth to object, but Daegan beat her to it.

“Where do you think you’re taking my girlfriend?”

“Your girlfriend?” Trevor pushed Daegan aside. “My girlfriend!”

“Trevor, stop! You’re squeezing my arm,” Macey whined.

“Let her go,” Daegan said.

When Trevor didn’t comply, Cade stepped forward and pushed Trevor away from Macey, taking the man off guard and causing him to fall backward into the apartment.

Macey leapt out of the way, giving room for Daegan to step beside her. He glared down at Trevor, not bothering to help him up.

“Hey!” Trevor called from the ground. “What’s your problem?”

“I have a problem with you being anywhere near Macey!” Daegan said. “You need to show respect; when a woman tells you to stop, you stop. I’ll give you ten seconds to grab your friend here and leave before I call the police.”

Trevor leapt up off the ground and grabbed Daegan’s shirt with his fist. “Fine, we’ll leave, but Macey and Raina are coming with us.” Trevor released Daegan’s shirt with enough energy to send him stumbling backward. “They’ll enjoy a night with us a whole lot more than with you potato farmers.”

Daegan was right back in Trevor’s face, but Camille’s gaze jumped to Cade. He had somehow disconnected George and Raina and had put Raina behind him. She clung to his arm, but Camille knew with tempers flying like they were, Raina was going to get herself hurt.

“Daisha!” Camille yelled. Daisha looked back, and Camille pointed to Raina.

Daisha slipped along the edge of the room and grabbed Raina. Benson followed suit, putting his arms out and pulling Daisha and Raina out of the way, ushering them behind the counter with Camille and Emma. Easton and Benson blocked the opening to the kitchen with their bodies. Just then, George punched Cade and sent him flying toward them. Cade landed half on the couch, half on the floor. Raina tried to bolt around the counter toward Cade, but both Daisha and Benson held her back.

“Not now, Raina,” Benson said.

Camille looked up to see Daegan belt Trevor in the gut.

“Stop!” Camille yelled. “Enough fighting!”

Her words fell on deaf ears. Daegan ducked when Trevor swung at his face, and Cade hopped to his feet as George went in for another attack. Easton leapt forward and snaked his arm around George’s neck to hold him back, managing to hold on long enough to punch George in the side.

Macey was the only woman not safely behind the counter, and she screamed as Daegan crashed into the corner end table, breaking the lamp and the picture on the wall in a domino effect. Raina’s sobs returned, but Camille hardly registered them.

This was out of control.

“Benson!” Daisha yelled over the commotion. “You have to stop this!”

Benson nodded and barged into the fray, pulling George off the floor. With one hard swing to the jaw, Benson knocked him out long enough to drag him to the door, which was still partially open. He kicked it open the rest of the way with his foot. Then he none too gently tossed George outside.

Macey ran to join the other women behind the counter.

“We should be helping,” Emma said.

“Helping?” Daisha asked, incredulous.

Emma didn’t answer. She grabbed a potato from Benson’s bag and hurled it at the back of Trevor’s head. It missed, so she grabbed another, this time hitting his shoulder.

Daisha’s mouth dropped open. “What are you doing?”

“Someone needs to stop this fight!” Emma argued.

Easton turned to look at them right as Emma launched another potato, and it hit Easton hard in the mouth. He covered his lips with his hand. “Nice arm,” he said wryly.

Instead of apologizing, she screamed, “Do something, Easton!”

“Give me one of those!” Raina grabbed one potato after another and started hurling them at random.

“Raina, no!” Daisha said, trying to wrestle the bag from her, but Raina managed to take a handful first.

“I could hit them, but my eyes are blurry from all the tears!” Raina said.

Oblivious to the potatoes, Daegan was on top of Trevor with his fist raised.

Easton grabbed Daegan’s arm to stop him. “He’s beat, Daegan. Get rid of him.”

Trevor saw his chance to start fighting back, but Cade grabbed one of his legs. He was nearly kicked in the groin by the other leg when one of Raina’s flying potatoes connected with Trevor’s face. Benson came back inside and managed to grab Trevor’s other leg. Daegan and Easton managed to hold on to Trevor’s upper body. Without any words, the four boys carried Trevor outside. They didn’t stop at the door to throw him out like Benson had done to George. Instead, they marched away from the apartment with Trevor in tow.

Daisha raced to the door and locked it. Camille exhaled for what seemed like the first time since the brawl had started and clutched her stomach. She was sorry for all the fighting, but thank goodness her baby had been protected.

“Those men aren’t coming back in here,” Daisha said. “Not even the Petersons! That door doesn’t open until Amy gets home from her study session.”

Camille stared at the hollowness in Daisha’s eyes. She’d heard Daisha ask Benson to stop the fight and knew her friend was likely both angry and disappointed that he’d interpreted it as a directive to take Trevor out back and finish him off. Her gaze found the frightened eyes of each of the other women. Camille had had no idea her brothers-in-law knew how to fist fight or that their tempers were so easily ignited. The whole situation had been blown way out of proportion.

One sniffle followed another. Both Raina’s and Macey’s eyes were filled with tears. “The boys will be fine,” Camille said. “All of them.” She didn’t know if she was telling the truth because she had no idea if Trevor was going to have to check himself into the hospital by the time the Peterson brothers were done with him, or what sort of injuries they’d succumbed to themselves.

“This is the worst night of my life,” Raina muttered.

Macey hugged herself. “It’s all my fault. Daegan and Cade are going to be so mad. They’ll never want to talk to us again. With them out of the picture, we’ll probably have hardened criminals stalking us.”

Daisha put her hand on her forehead. “You’re right that you’re partially to blame, but so is Raina. And so am I for not talking you out of it.”

Emma wiped at her eyes. “My first date with the guy I’ve liked for months is over before it even started. And I threw a potato at his face.” She put her arm around Macey and hugged her. “At least we have each other, right?”

Macey leaned her head on her shoulder. “Thanks, but this time a friend doesn’t quite make up the difference.”

Emma sighed. “I know. Let’s just hope no one calls the police on us.”

They sat down in various spots in the family room, unease settling around Camille. Daisha collapsed onto a stool in the kitchen and motioned for Camille to take the one next to her. The silence was uncomfortable, but each was lost in their own misery. Camille picked up a potato and spun it in a wobbly circle on the counter. Would the Petersons come back? Would they call? What was she supposed to do? Wait an hour and then start calling the hospitals or the police?

Over the next hour, the girls separated into their bedrooms, leaving Daisha and Camille alone in the front room. Daisha curled up on the couch and put a pillow over her face. The last shred of hope that their evening could still be salvaged finally disappeared. The room was a disaster, and apparently it was up to Camille to clean it up. She picked up the broken lamp first.

Hadn’t this mess started with Camille bragging that she never had to clean while she was here? And Macey threatening to break a lamp? Camille and Daisha should’ve let her do it. It would’ve been less violent than what they had seen tonight. Once the glass shards from the picture frame and all the miscellaneous potatoes were cleaned up, she moved on to the kitchen. She swept up the small pile of dirt from the potatoes and wiped down the counters. She handwashed Benson’s cutting board and knife and, after drying them, slid them back into his pot. Exhaustion pulled at her eyes and her limbs. Time to go home and assess the damage there.