I glanced from me Da to my mother, the look she gave me promised I would pay fer me outburst later. I just couldn’t stand it anymore. That house had been me dream, it was meant to be perched on a small hill, with the front of the house facin’ the east for the morning sun and the back would face the west so that I could watch sunsets on the large wrap-around porch. I couldn’t say it was a strictly a Victorian style home because I had actually taken ideas from lots of different structures. The home had a large kitchen with a center table that sat at least twelve, with white presses that had pull out shelves for organizin’, but me master bedroom was me favorite. It was wide and deep, and it had floor to ceiling windows so that I could bask in the morning sun before risin’ out of me bed. It had a dual sided fireplace that warmed both me bedroom and the adjoining sitting area, a place where I could sit and design new, modern homes that still had a lot of charm and beauty to them. I hated those cookie-cutter homes that Walt was building. Every home looked like the next except the color was different. In my designs, a home could still feel like the country and still be cost efficient.
I knew my Ma wouldn’t understand me desire to create something out of me own mind and see it come to life, she thought me drawings were more a hobby and that I needed to focus more on a husband.
I could understand her position, I’m sure back in the day when she was a young bird, women didn’t have the choices they do now. Is it so bad to want a different future? One that doesn’t depend on someone’s promise to love you forever, because so far I hadn’t seen that work out for too many people.
“I took classes at the University along with my teaching courses,” I answered me, father. Was that pride I saw in his eyes? Before I could ask him, me Ma jumped up from the table in all her melodramatic glory. I mean, geez, you’d think I’d just announced that I was pregnant by the pope himself with the way she was flailing her arms around like a mad woman.
“Camille Gwendolyn McDougall-Patrick,” she screeched. Yep, we were back to using me whole name again, “You will sit yerself down right this instant and act like the lady I raised you to be.”
Knowing better than to argue, I lifted my chin defiantly and sat back down in me chair. The only thing that made me feel better was the wink me Da gave me from the far end of the table.
“I didn’t know it meant so much to you, I thought it was just for a grade, you were always the overachiever when it came to gettin’ top marks, so I just assumed you trying to do well,” Sean mumbled as he looked down at his empty plate. I noticed his Irish accent was barely audible, which meant he was actin’, the Sean I knew had a deeper accent then I did.
Knowing our parents and Dalton were watching every face I made, I put a blank but happy smile on my mug, hoping that everyone would just let all this go. There was no sense in berating Sean for not realizing how much my dream house meant to me, it wasn’t a dream he wasn’t intended to share in anyways, that was obvious considering he shagged me friend.
“It’s fine Sean, it was a long time ago and I don’t waste time in silly daydreams anymore. I didn’t even know where the sketchbook that I drew it in was until you spoke. If you say it’s in your papers, that’s fine, you can just toss it. Don’t worry yerself over it.”
That right there was the most insane amount of bull shite that I had ever spewed. I had looked for that damn book for years. After I had discovered Sean and Tara together, I had been hurt and had waited weeks before going back to the apartment to get any items that I had left there. Sean had sworn he hadn’t seen me book and after a while, I just stopped askin’ about it.
Sean cleared his throat, but I still didn’t look up from me hands that I had clasped in my lap. Maybe if I didn’t look at him, I could pretend that we were still friends, that he was still the boy who made me laugh during thunderstorms or bought me glowsticks for me birthday because he knew I was afraid of the dark.
“Cami?” I heard him whisper me name, I shook me head and fought the stupid tears that were trying to leak from me eyes. No crying! I refuse to cry over this arsehole, I had made meself promise six months after I caught him with Tara that I would never cry because of this man again, ten minutes in his presence and I was seriously close to breaking it.
“Kathryn, love, that stew smells amazing, it is almost ready?” Me Da asked, knowing that me Ma thrived on compliments for her cooking. I raised me head to give him a grateful smile and he nodded in return.
I managed one glance toward Dalton, it was hard to see his whole face because Sean was sitting on my right blocking half of his body from me vision. One look at Dalton and I almost gasped. The man looked bloody pissed, like anyone moment he was going to explode into a million pieces. He didn’t look at me, not one glance, the lad stared straight ahead at the wall where pictures of me as a child were hung. However, I was pretty sure he wasn’t really lookin’ at me pictures, he looked like he was struggling with keeping his emotions in check, which I found rather odd since I was the one that was being humiliated here! Yet, you couldn’t miss the tension radiating off the man in waves, even Sean seemed to feel the vibes because he scooted his chair a wee bit closer to mine. Bloody coward!
“Yes, yes, I forgot! Camille come along and help me serve the stew and bread. We will treat Dalton here to a fine Irish meal,” me mother smiled at Dalton. Whatever had him so mad he got over in a hurry because he flashed me mother the most charming smile and rose from the table himself.
“I would love that, please let me help, my mother taught me to be a good guest and I wouldn’t want to insult her memory,” he told her sweetly.
I wanted to gag and then quickly changed my mind and decided brainin’ him would be a better course of action when me Ma looked at me with a look that said,- See, he respects his mother, God rest her soul- seriously the man was good. He knew exactly what to say to my mother to make her swoon, and the woman was swooning. For that matter so was Mrs. Walsh, I didn’t like the way she was looking at Dalton’s arse like she wanted to take a bite out of it. You’re just jealous because you want to be the one bitin’ that fine, ass! Whoa! Oh no, I am not listening to whatever part of me anatomy is givin’ that advice. Needing a distraction, I was about to get up from Me chair when Dalton’s warm hand on my bare shoulder stilled me.
“Allow me, my lady,” he said offering his hand out to me.
Looking around, I knew I couldn’t smack it back against his forehead like I wanted. Giving him a small and totally fake smile, I placed me hand in his and allowed him to help me up from the table like we were in some bad 1650s Irish romance novel.
“Thank you Dalton, but I can help me Ma, you stay here and chat amongst the others,” I told him as I tried to unsuccessfully pull me hand from his, “I know Mrs. Walsh, in particular, will miss you.” the last part I whispered so only he could hear.
The bastard smiled! He was amused. I know I sounded jealous, but I wasn’t, I am absolutely not jealous, I don’t care who Dalton Hudson shags, not even a wee bit. I see you all don’t believe me, but just give me this one free pass would you? Denial is a friend of mine and I need her right now.
“Jealous?” He whispered back as he pushed my chair under the table and began to follow me to the kitchen.
“You think?” I retorted. I wasn’t sure I could lie and I definitely didn’t want to tell him the truth.
“I know.”
“You wish,” I hissed back at him. I needed to be strong, he was too charming and I was too long without the attentions of a lad. The attention thrilled me and terrified me at the same time.
He grabbed me hips as I went to push open the kitchen door and pulled me back hard against that broad chest of his. “I hope, Camille, I sincerely hope, because I am so jealous that Sean gets to sit close to this gorgeous woman with the most amazing body that I could spit nails.” He abruptly let me go and walked around me and into the kitchen without another word.
Whatever game Dalton was playing I was losing, I needed to get control of meself before I did
something altogether stupid like throw him down in the middle of the table and have me wicked way with those full lips of his. What am I saying?There will be no throwing of the Hudson lad, no biting that full bottom lip of his! Jesus, you never wanted to bite Sean’s lip or his anything for that matter!
“Camille are you…” I heard Dalton call out as he pushed open the swinging door and whacked me head with it.
“Umpf! Bloody hell!” I shouted as I held me forehead. Only seconds later Dalton was pulling me hands away from me face and was staring right at me with those hypnotizing orbs of his. His face was so close that I could see tiny flecks of gold in his light green eyes. I was going to smack his hands away but his face was one of such anguish that I found I couldn’t remember what I was mad at him for.
“Camille, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize you were right behind the door gorgeous.” He ignored me hands that were trying to slap his away and felt the glorious knot that was forming on me head.
Perfect, I groaned inwardly. Not only was I lucky I didn’t trip over these stupid heels that I had borrowed from me friend Keela, which I tell you I will never wear again. The idea of showing Sean what he was missing had lost all its luster at this point, but now Dalton was going to see me as a bloody clutz.
“I'm all right Dalton, you don’t need to be fussin’ over it,” I told him as I stepped to the side to get away from those probing fingers.
He didn’t look like he believed me for a second and just when he looked ready to say something, me Ma burst out the door and started a whole scene of fussin’ over me herself. Once she had me in the kitchen, she pulled out a package of peas and slapped it to me head, a little harder than was necessary, and I even heard Dalton gasp a little when the cold smacked me forehead.
“It’s fine Ma, can we just serve dinner please?” I asked as I took the offending torture peas off me face and put the bag back in the freezer.
I knew me Ma was mad about me outburst and I was sure she wanted to give me hell over it, but with Dalton here she held her tongue.
“Of course Cami, yer right dove. Let’s get everyone fed, things always go better after a tasty meal,” Me mother’s voice was all sweetness and light and for once I was glad that Dalton was here as a buffer because I wasn’t sure me head could take any more Irish mother guilt.
Deciding to call a truce for tonight, I mouthed ‘thank you’ to Dalton as Ma handed me the stew, and I even smiled back when he mouthed ‘your welcome gorgeous.’
Dalton
Okay, smacking a girl with a large, swinging door was probably not the way to get on her good side. I knew she was confused by my sudden gentlemanly nature. This was what I wanted, I needed to keep her off balance, I needed her to wonder what I would do next. It was evident everyone regarded her as a child and not a woman who could make her own mind up about her life. I could tell she wanted to blast Sean for that house design, it had obviously meant a lot to her. Also, what was this business about her taking classes in Architecture? That was definitely something she and I would be discussing, but first I was going to let her family and asshat know that her gazebo design was fantastic and was well structured.
Camille had talent, her gazebo sketch was so detailed that I could almost imagine Synclair and Sara standing in it while they took their vows to my brothers. The fact that she acted like she no longer wanted the dream of her own self-designed home was a bunch of bullshit. I saw the look on her face when Sean mentioned it. For a guy who had known Camille her entire life, I was shocked at how clueless he was about who she really was, he didn’t know her at all, none of these people did. However, I saw her for who she really was and before I was done, so would they. I had only been here for one day and I felt like I understood Camille better than anyone at the table!
“Kathryn, it's incredible, you have to give me the recipe so that I can have Synclair and Sara add it to their menu for the restaurant,” I told Camille’s mother. It wasn’t a lie, this lamb stew was amazing and I know Syn and Sara would love to serve it at their new place.
“Och, yer a charmer you are, how is Synclair’s new restaurant coming along? Jack tells me yer the one buildin’ it for her,” Kathryn practically purred. Hey, don’t hate the player-hate the game and all that! I can’t help it if a well timed smile or compliment gets results.
“Yer a builder too?” Sean’s mother asked me while placing her hand on my upper thigh. I tried not to flinch as I smiled back at her. Shit, maybe I had poured the charm on a little too thick.
“Yes, I own a contracting company back in Carson City. I usually build single-family residences and a few commercial buildings, but when Syn and Sara wanted to remodel the old restaurant that Sara owned, I insisted on building it for them.”
“Yes, and not only did the man offer to build Synclair and Sara’s new place, ‘Good Eats,’ but he only charged them for the materials and it will be finished before the end of the year! At least four months ahead of what everyone else quoted!” Jack boasted from the head of the table. It appeared I had an ally.
I stole a glance at Camille, she was smiling, but I could tell the fact that Jack sounded so proud got to her. I wish she knew how Jack had threatened Sean on her behalf, maybe she wouldn’t look so damn sad.
“Well then, yer stay in Dublin will be short one then, right? After all, you’ve got a restaurant to build for Cami’s cousin,” Sean looked at me as he spoke. I didn’t miss the happiness in his tone when he reminded me that I wasn’t going to be here very long.
“Luckily I have a great crew and an awesome foreman, they’re handling the remodel while I make sure that Camille’s gazebo for Synclair and Sara’s wedding is built just the way she wants it. So, I’ll be here as long as it takes," I answered with a smirk, letting pretty boy know that I wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.
“Och Dalton, that must be so expensive to not be makin’ any money on the labor costs,” Mrs. Walsh said in a voice that was an octave away from an annoying wail. I politely moved her roving hand that had kept inching higher on my leg, back to her lap and turned to Jack.
“Jack, I’ve been a contractor for a long time, that drawing that Camille sent to Synclair wasn’t just a sketch, it was a blueprint. One that was set to a perfect scale for the size structure that Camille wants to build.”
“Dalton, stop,” Camille whispered as I pulled my phone out and handed it over to Jack. I had a copy of the blueprint that Camille had created and saved it on my phone. I knew Jack had his bar in Vegas remodeled before it opened so I knew he would recognize a blueprint when he saw it.
For a moment the man said nothing, then he looked up at Camille and a huge grin cut across his chubby face. Synclair was right, he did look like an aging Jackie Gleason. “Cami! Sweetie this is good, better than good it's incredible, you have the arc of the gazebo, the scale elements, and even the dimensions. This is really professional. Is this something you want to do, like for a career?” Jack asked.
I wanted to literally get up and kiss the man on his balding head. Finally, someone realized that Camille was more than just some girl to be pushed back into the shadows. I turned, expecting to see Camille smiling back at me in appreciation. Instead, she was glaring and by glaring I mean she was imagining peeling my skin off layer by layer.
“Jack, darlin’ Camille isn’t goin’ to waste her time on silly sketches, Walt has given her a good position in his company and besides someday she may settle down and get married. She may want to travel with her babes and her husband,” Kathryn addressed Jack but she was looking right at Sean –fucking- Walsh. If Sean’s face was any indication, he like the idea of Camille following him around from set to set, babies in tow, never getting the chance to chase her own dreams. FUCK. THAT.
“About that Cami, could I talk to you for a moment? Alone?” Sean asked Camille.
I watched her look around the table, her mother was staring at her expectantly while Jack was glaring at Camille’s mother and Sean’s mother was rubbing her bare foot up
my pant leg, ech!
“Sure Sean, let’s go outside,” Camille replied slowly getting up from her chair.
I gritted my teeth as I watched Sean place his jacket around her shoulders. I didn’t miss the fact that her shoulder slumped as she followed him out of the dining room.
I looked around the table at the cast of characters that were making Camille’s life suck. I wanted to shout at all of them, but I knew my mother would come down from heaven and smack me in the back of the head. If that weren't enough of a deterrent, Synclair would kill me for getting into it with her beloved, uncle Jack.
“Dalton, why don’t you join me for a beer in the living room? We can talk about what you need for the gazebo for Synclair’s wedding,” Jack suggested giving me a look that told me he knew how pissed I was and wasn’t about to let me go postal at his dining room table.
Mustering all the charm I had left I smiled at Camille’s mother and again complimented her on the food, then I detached the dragon lady’s claws that were creeping too close to my boys and got up so fast that the foot she had been assaulting me with dropped to the floor with a loud thud.
Without another word I followed Jack out of the room and sat down on the rust colored couch. While Jack handed me a beer, I looked at the door that led out to the porch. I hated the idea that Sean was out there trying to convince Camille to take him back, she deserved better than the movie star asshat, I only hoped she thought so too.
“You got something to say Dalt? I suggest you spit it out before your head pops off your damn shoulders,” Jack looked at me and at that moment he reminded me of Synclair. His eyes twinkled with amusement, but his smirk was straight-up smart ass. Yep, definitely related to my new sister.
“I don’t understand what the hell is going on here?” I answered honestly.
Jack sat down in the Queen Anne chair opposite me and placed his beer on the coffee table. Sighing, he hung his head and took one large hand and rubbed the back of his neck.
Lucky Charms: A Hudson Family Series- Book 3- Dalton and Cami Page 6
