Brides and Brothers by Anneka R. Walker

Chapter 42

Camille

The feast was over, and after several games at the kitchen table as a group and a turn helping assemble a thousand-piece puzzle, Camille pulled Daisha to the side so she could talk to her privately. “Go talk to him.”

“Who?” Daisha asked, furrowing her brow.

“You know exactly who I mean.” Camille motioned with her head to the door. “You’ve barely taken your eyes off him the last hour.”

“Benson wasn’t playing the games anymore, and I was concerned he wasn’t having a good time. That’s it.” Her fierce whisper was too defensive to be completely true.

“Well, he’s done whittling that stick of wood, and he’s outside waiting for you.”

“Stop. He is not.” Daisha tried to pull away from her, but Camille pulled her back.

“This is your chance to talk privately with him. Go!” Camille might have messed up her own relationship, but she wasn’t going to let Daisha suffer too.

Daisha’s expression softened, and she stared at the door. “I don’t know. I mean our date to the Playmill went really well. On the drive, I told him about things I’d never told Derek. Who knows what possessed me? He probably thinks I’m a freak.”

“He probably bonded with you and is wondering if he misread the signals. Just give him a few minutes of your time so he knows you’re really interested.”

“Fine.” Daisha blew out her breath and shook her arms to loosen them.

“You aren’t gearing up for a competition. Relax. It’s Benson we’re talking about.”

Daisha pinched Camille’s arm, and Camille swatted her back as they laughed. “I’m going to do it, but I want you to stand at the window in the front room. The one that shows the front porch.”

“Why?”

Daisha’s teasing glint disappeared from her eyes, and her mouth turned down. “Benson is different from other guys, and I want to be straight up with him. I want you to hear what I tell him, ’cause I only want to say it once.”

What exactly was Daisha planning on revealing? Camille bit her lip. “Sure, I can do that.”

“And if Benson freaks out, then I give you permission to interfere and rescue me.”

After everything with Aiden, Daisha hadn’t judged her one bit, and Camille wanted everyone to give Daisha the same courtesy—especially Benson. She nudged Daisha with her shoulder. “Deal.”

A determined look settled over Daisha, and she slipped past the others, grabbed her coat, and disappeared out the door.

As subtly as she could, Camille followed Daisha’s path to the door, then passed it to the empty family room and the nearest window. She parted the drape, giving her a front-row seat to the Benson-Daisha show. Pulling back enough to be out of view, she put her head to the edge of the window to help her hear better.

Benson leaned over the porch rail, his eyes on the stars.

“Wow, the stars out here are even brighter than in Cherish.” Daisha mimicked Benson’s posture against the porch rail. “Do you miss living here?”

Benson turned his head, and his eyes studied hers. Daisha’s nerves were painted on her face, and Camille hoped she’d done the right thing sending her friend outside.

“I miss the time I had with my parents,” he finally said.

“I’m glad you can come here to remember them.” Daisha looked away.

Camille took in the view. If nothing else, the night was perfect. The snow-frosted trees were illuminated by the bright-yellow moon and stars, making it a veritable forest wonderland.

“Is the snow making you feel claustrophobic?” Benson asked.

Daisha grimaced and pointed at the house. “Not the snow but all the people in the house. I was doing fine until I realized I didn’t have a place to retreat when I was done socializing. I might have to retire to bed early every night like Camille.” She said the last with a bit of sarcasm, but Benson didn’t smile.

Camille groaned. If Benson couldn’t handle Daisha’s sarcasm, this relationship wasn’t meant to be.

Daisha frowned. “Are you upset?”

Benson sighed, turned, and rested his back against the wooden rail. “You could say that.”

“I won’t be offended if you don’t want to talk about it, but since we’re both outside and all, you know your secrets are safe with me.” She took a deep breath before adding, “How about a secret for a secret?”

“An exchange, huh?” Benson shoved his gloved hands into his coat pockets and toed the snow with his boot. The time he took to respond was always drawn out, like he was composing each word in careful order before he spoke. “I think that would be best.”

Camille pulled back. She didn’t want to be privy to any secrets. Was this really what Daisha wanted?

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something, but now I’m not sure I’m ready,” Daisha finally admitted.

Benson turned away from her. “Do you think you’ll date Derek again?”

Daisha blinked. “Derek? No, definitely not.”

“You’re just not ready to date other people?” Benson practically whispered his question, but his gaze locked with Daisha’s again.

“No. I mean, yes. I want to date. But dating and info-dumping are not the same thing.”

Benson’s eyebrows quirked. “You really think so? The way I see it, communication is the key to a good relationship.”

“I figured you felt that way.” She blew out her breath, a line of white visible in the air. “Fine. My secret? My favorite movie is The Lion King.”

Camille’s face screwed up with confusion. The Lion King? Daisha had once said that someday she’d tell Camille why The Lion King messed up her life. She moved forward again, needing to know what Daisha was about to say. This was why Daisha had wanted her to hear her conversation—she was finally ready to share this part of her past with Camille.

“I didn’t just watch it for the music but because I was fascinated about the part where Mufasa dies. I was terrified my dad was going to come home one night from drinking too much and die.”

Benson gaped at her, and Camille’s heart pounded. Why hadn’t Daisha told her before?

“Thanks for telling me,” Benson replied.

“Thanks for telling you my dad is an alcoholic and I’m messed up because of it? I don’t understand.”

Benson reached out and tentatively put his large hand over Daisha’s. “I had a long talk with your dad on Monday,” he said. “Marvin and I are best friends now.”

Marvin? Daisha was not going to like that Benson had talked to her dad. Camille clasped her hands together. Come on, Benson. Fix this!

Then Daisha laughed, completely surprising Camille. “I should be really, really upset that you even talked to him. I was angry when I thought you talked to my mom about this whole kidnapping thing, but my dad is another story. My whole life I’ve kept this a secret. I even dropped out of college with the excuse that I wasn’t interested, but really it was so I could take care of my family. Even Camille didn’t know the truth.” Daisha’s gaze moved from Benson to the window where Camille stood, her expression apologetic. “It wasn’t just that I was ashamed and wanted to keep our family business private but because I didn’t want her to convince me to stay in school and remember my own needs.”

Camille’s throat tightened, and she gave Daisha a nod to show there were no hard feelings.

Daisha nodded once in return and turned back to Benson. “But since you and Marvin are best friends, I can’t be too mad, can I?”

“We’re like this.” Benson crossed his fingers.

His words were out of character and made Daisha laugh again. “I’m always caught off guard when you make a joke.”

Benson frowned. “Why?”

“You’re generally so serious.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

“Derek was always pretty serious too.” Benson’s face dimmed at the mention of Derek. “But after that potato joke, I can’t think of you the same way anymore.”

Benson locked eyes with her. “I know lots of jokes like that.”

Daisha raised her brow. “About kissing or potatoes?”

“I know about both,” he said, his tone deepening as he leaned toward her.

“What?” Daisha’s hand went to the rail, where she gripped it tightly. “You mean you know a lot of kissing-potato jokes?”

Benson smiled. “I didn’t say that. I only know two kissing-potato jokes. I said I know about both kissing and potatoes.”

Daisha laughed softly. “You say that like there’s some great secret about one or the other.”

“Not secret—sacred.” Benson’s face was expressionless, but his eyes gleamed in the moonlight.

“I won’t question your potato craze. Trust me, I know how deeply you feel about those suckers.”

Benson’s lips pulled upward. “Are you going to question how deeply I feel about kissing?”

Camille held her breath. After talking to Daisha’s dad, Benson was still willing to jump in. Would Daisha be ready to let him in?

Daisha shuffled her feet. “How, uh, do you feel about . . . that?”

“About what?” Benson teased, lowering his face another inch.

Daisha stepped back against the railing. “I’m sorry, what were we talking about?”

Benson’s head made the final descent. His lips brushed Daisha’s with the softness of a feather landing on a sidewalk. “You were going to tell me that you want to be my girlfriend.”

Camille rolled forward on her toes and brought her fist to her mouth to keep from squealing.

“I was?” Daisha was completely under his spell.

Never had Camille seen her so gone for a guy.

“Yes,” he murmured in a low, sultry voice. “Because then I’ll have an excuse to tell you how I really feel about kissing.”

Daisha giggled. “I think you’d better save those deep explanations for your future wife.”

“The job is open for applications.”

“Really?” Daisha no longer looked dreamy and unfocused.

Camille’s hand dropped. Was this Benson’s normal serious voice or his extra-serious voice? He was going way too fast.

“Why, are you interested?”

“You sound desperate,” Daisha joked, and even Camille could see her anxiety flaring.

“I am for one person,” Benson said. “If she’ll have me.” This time his head came down at full speed.

Daisha leaned back. “Benson Peterson!”

Benson straightened, his face chagrined and turning red. “I’m sorry . . . I . . .”

“I’m confused about what we’re talking about.”

Benson didn’t attempt to say anything else. Camille waited, but he stood there looking at anything but Daisha.

“Come on, Daisha!” Camille whispered. “He’s too scared to explain. Help him out.”

“I’m older than the typical college student, Benson. I know what it’s like to scrimp to make ends meet. I know what it’s like to take care of a family. I know what kind of man I want to marry. He has to meet some pretty high standards. He’ll need to work hard and not bend his values when things get tough. He has to be able to find ways to be happy when life throws a string of disappointments at him so long that it’s like following a rainbow, looking for an end that doesn’t exist.

“You might like me,” she continued, “which flatters me to no end, and which I reciprocate in ridiculous and obsessive amounts, but you can’t throw out marriage proposals like they’re candy.”

Benson grabbed Daisha’s hand in a tight grip. It was like he knew she wanted to bolt. “Daisha, I have never once thrown around a marriage proposal. When have you known me to be anything but sincere? I’m twenty-nine years old. I’ve helped raise a family too. I know how much work it takes to support one. And I could list a string of disappointments that would impress even you.

“Aiden was on the tail end of his service mission when my parents were killed. The life insurance wasn’t finalized, and the meals from church members only lasted two weeks. After that, my family would’ve starved if I hadn’t kept the farm going and put food on the table. But that’s not the only trial I’ve experienced in my lifetime, nor am I complaining. I’ll be a better husband and father because of those hard times, so you can remember that the next time you play the woe is me card. I date for one purpose, and that’s to get married. You’d better understand that now. If you agree to date me, there’s a strong possibility of a forever kind of commitment.”

Camille’s arms erupted in goosebumps. A lump formed in her throat, and her eyes filled with moisture. So much of what he said reminded her of Aiden, and it made her ache inside.

Daisha sighed, and more white mist poured from her mouth. “I never should have said those words—or implied that you weren’t sincere. I know you’ll make a wonderful husband and father someday.”

Benson put his arms around her as the first tears escaped her eyes. “I’m sorry I rushed things,” he said. “Sometimes I can’t get the words from my brain to my mouth, but this time I’m afraid they came out a bit strong.”

Daisha shook her head. “No, I’ve needed someone to shake me like that. I’ve always seen myself as a victim of my circumstances, but it’s refreshing to know someone who doesn’t view life’s problems like they’re out to get them.” She relaxed against Benson as his hand stroked her hair. She never ever cried in front of people. Not even Camille. But Daisha felt safe—possibly for the first time—and Camille hoped she would let it all out.

“I’m afraid to ask if I’ve scared you away,” Benson said.

The disappointment in his voice caused her to pull back out of his arms. She wiped her eyes with her fingers. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Benson pushed Daisha’s hair behind her ear. “How about we call it a truce? I won’t bring up marriage again if you agree to go to dinner with me next week.”

Daisha’s wet cheeks lifted in a smile. “You’ll never bring it up?”

Benson held up three fingers in a salute. “Not for the entire meal—scout’s honor.”

“I would never doubt a scout’s honor.” Daisha grinned. “I think I can handle dinner.”

Camille dropped the curtain and put her back to the wall beside the window, sighing with happiness. Benson and Daisha had the makings of something special. Her smile wavered. She’d once thought that about her and Aiden. Now she didn’t know what to think. Why was it easy to see the potential in others’ relationships but not in her own?