Page 5 of Brides and Brothers
Chapter 3
Camille
Camille pulled her car upthe driveway to Aiden’s house. It was a few minutes out of town, and she was relieved to have arrived without getting lost. Surrounded by beautiful farmland with the mountains in the background, the large ranch-style house sat behind a long, circular gravel drive. A four-car garage connected to the house with a nice truck parked out front like a stereotypical country fixture, and a gorgeous red barn was set behind the house.
Camille pulled in front of the wide porch steps and climbed out of her car. This place was incredible. Either Aiden was rich, or he still lived with his parents. He couldn’t be married if he was asking her to cook for him, but no one who lived alone needed a house this big. His parents were probably just out of town.
She walked up the stairs, then hesitated outside the wood-stained Crafts-man front door. Meeting someone for business at their house was awkward. She hated awkward. She attempted to adjust her computer bag over her shoulder, but it was impossible with the pan of unbaked banana bread in her hand and a green protein smoothie in her other hand. Time couldn’t wait for her nerves to settle, so she rang the doorbell before she lost her courage.
After a few moments the door opened. The description of the man in front of her was cliché but fitting: tall, dark, and handsome.
“Camille?” Aiden asked, folding his arms in front of him.
Camille cleared her throat to find her voice. “Yes, that’s me.” She’d seen a picture of Grant, and he was tall but skinny and blond. Aiden was at least six feet tall with a tan and muscular arms. She hadn’t expected to be this affected by a computer nerd.
Aiden bent forward and peered into the pan. “Is this supposed to be dinner? I thought you said you could cook.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Icancook. It’s banana bread. I didn’t have time to bake it or go to the store for anything else, so you’ll have to put it in your oven.”
Her bread must’ve passed some sort of test because he moved aside to allow her into the house. She stepped past him, their arms brushing. Heat spread up her side.Oh boy.She needed to venture off campus more often.
Aiden opened another door right off the spacious entryway and led her into an office. The cabinets and desk were a beautiful cherry wood. Two overstuffed chairs sat framed by a large rectangular window. While formal, they managed to appear comfortable and inviting.
“Please, have a seat.” Was it obvious she’d been eyeing the chairs? “I’ll pop this into the oven. What temperature?” Aiden snagged the pan out of her hands before she could respond. He really was hungry.
“Oh, um, 350 degrees for about forty-five minutes.”
After Aiden abandoned her, she melted into the seat closest to the door. She’d guessed right. The chair was as comfortable as it appeared. Maybe sisters dating brothers wasn’t such a bad philosophy. If she could convince this guy to fall for her—and fast, since she was about to be homeless—she would be perfectly happy to move in here. She pulled her laptop out of her bag and waited for Aiden to return.
He came back with his hands empty, so Camille gave him her laptop. “Oh, this smoothie is for you too. It’s got veggies and protein in it—all the good stuff.” She placed it in his free hand, and his eyes widened.
Staring at the straw of the plastic cup, he mumbled a polite but hesitant thanks. He set it on his desk and went to work plugging in her laptop and pressing buttons she couldn’t see. Her eyes followed his every movement; she couldn’t tear her gaze away. She guessed he was roughly around her age; he had a lean face and physique, and his hair was neatly trimmed short. His plain jeans and T-shirt were fitted but outdated. She didn’t mind. High-maintenance guys were overrated. There was no argument; she was attracted to him.
Aiden looked up and caught her staring at him. His eyes were a bright green, soft compared to the rest of his chiseled features. There was something familiar about the deep set of his eyes and his easy smile. Had she met him before? Instead of looking away, she smiled casually as if she had nothing better to do. Which, really, she didn’t.
Aiden quirked his brow. “Are you planning on staying here all night while I work on this?”
“I thought you were a computer whiz and would have it fixed in no time.”
His laugh was a rich baritone, and it sent chills down her back. Was it the guy or her long dating dry spell? Realistically speaking, he would fix her computer, and she would never see him again.
“No promises, remember? I design software, do a little website analysis—you know, that sort of thing. I usually leave the maintenance stuff up to my little brother.”
Camille assumed Aiden meant Grant, and she nodded like she understood. He stared at her expectantly, but Camille decided she’d better sit tight until he finished. Her future career depended on the files saved on her laptop.
Shrugging in defeat, he seemed to give up on getting her to leave.
She looked around the room until her gaze fell on a thick scrapbook on top of a file cabinet. A few loose pictures jutted out from the top, and Camille lifted her head to peer at them.
“Go ahead,” Aiden said, his bright green eyes meeting hers again. “It’s an old scrapbook from my church service mission. Since I don’t subscribe to any magazines, it might be the only entertainment I can offer.”
“Thanks.” What was it about his gaze? Was it familiar because of the faint resemblance to Grant’s picture? And why wasn’t he trying her smoothie? She broke the connection, reached up, and pulled the book onto her lap.
The scrapbook contained mostly printed emails addressed to his mom and a few scattered pictures throughout. There were a few selfies, and the rest of the pictures were of scenery or other people. The selfies featured a younger version of Aiden, usually with sunglasses on—maybe as a late teen or early adult—but the pictures were low quality and grainy. She wondered if she dared breach the man’s privacy and read a few emails. He hadn’t seemed to care if she browsed through the book, so she decided to find out for herself if Aiden was as interesting as her first impression led her to believe.
She skimmed one of the emails. Her heartbeat slowed as she immersed herself in the recounting of his week. He’d applied for a long-term volunteer service while taking a heavy credit load and working part time. Aiden easily expressed his faith in God and told his mom not to worry about him. Camille paused at the end of his letter on a paragraph of Aiden expressing his love for his parents and his appreciation for all they had taught him. Was this guy for real? She would never say those sorts of things to her mom—not even in a letter.
Camille flipped to the middle of the book to read another printed email. By this account, she could tell he was on his mission now, and his challenges had changed to food poisoning and a lost wallet. Still, his words were positive. In the next letter, when he was healthy again and his wallet had been found, he was quick to give credit to the Lord. The sincerity of his words sent a rush of warmth through her. She looked up at Aiden, perplexed. The same familiar feeling she’d had moments ago when Aiden had looked at her returned.
