Page 101 of Brides and Brothers
“You’re the ones who didn’t see it.” Easton bit back his own laugh.
Daegan dusted off his coat with his good hand. “Why’d they do that? They know we’ve been out here freezing our toes off so they can go home.”
Camille grimaced. Hopefully this was the end of her friends’ revenge.
Flynn took their shovels and stacked them by the door. “They’re blowing off steam so they can work up the urge to forgive us. Don’t be surprised if they’re waiting at the foot of the stairs, ready to apologize.”
Daegan grunted, pacified for the moment. They moved inside, and Easton looked around hopefully. Camille felt bad for them. Not a single woman rushed to their side. They shed their outerwear and hustled into the kitchen, probably in search of the nonexistent hot chocolate. Daisha and Emma stood by the sink, chatting.
“Good morning, ladies,” Easton said in a chipper voice. “How did you sleep?”
Camille took her seat back at the table and reluctantly pulled her laptop back toward her.
“Oh, we slept fine,” Emma said, her tone normal.
“We had plenty of blankets to keep us warm.” Daisha’s voice wasn’t as sweet, and Easton raised his brow.
If Camille’s friends had been smart, they would have snuck down during the night and taken pictures of the men curled up together for blackmail.
“Did you eat yet?” Emma asked, holding up a bowl of oatmeal. “I made this for you.”
Camille looked up and furrowed her brow as Benson walked up beside Easton. “We ate, thank you,” he said.
Camille had told Emma as much this morning.
Easton nodded. “We had some cereal.”
“Bummer.” Daisha held out a bowl too. “We thought you might’ve worked up an appetite.”
Easton looked to Benson, and they both accepted the peace offering. They took an obligatory bite at the same time, and Easton’s cheeks sucked in like he had something sour in his mouth.
Benson spat his bite back into the bowl, but Easton choked his down.
“I think it’s expired,” Benson said.
“It could be a decade old,” Easton added. “Maybe the mice got into it.”
Daisha snorted, and Emma’s laugh bubbled out.
“You don’t like a half cup of salt in your oatmeal?” Daisha’s feigned innocence was cringeworthy.
Benson set his bowl down. “I think you need some cooking lessons from Camille.”
“You two and Amy,” Daegan said from the back of the kitchen.
Easton set his bowl next to Benson’s. “It looks like we’d better get back out to the van. Teaching the three of them could take Camille all day.”
He marched after Benson toward the door. Apparently, the cold was preferable to the girls’ immaturity. She didn’t blame them for wanting revenge though. Holding in her own frustration hadn’t done Camille any favors.
Flynn walked in carrying a couple bags of groceries in one hand, and the other was rubbing his head.
“What happened? Run into the wall?” Easton joked.
“Ha! I went to grab some stuff from the car, and Sage threw an ice ball at my head.”
Benson laughed and echoed Flynn’s earlier words. “She’s just working up the urge to forgive you.”
“Lucky me,” Flynn said with a wince. “I’m engaged to a woman who has an arm like an all-American baseball player.”
“No,” Easton said, “lucky us to be stuck in the same house with a bunch of women who want to kill us.”
