Page 80 of Brides and Brothers
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.
