Lucky Charms: A Hudson Family Series- Book 3- Dalton and Cami

by Chontelle Brison

  Feeling relief wash over me, I blurted, “Thank God, I thought maybe you were catching feelings or something and… Just, wow… You had me worried,” I practically stuttered.

  Even though she gave me a bright smile, I could see the hurt in her eyes. I hated that it was there because of me; I liked having Camille as a friend, I liked the benefits that came with it, I just wasn’t ready to fall in love. What if you already are, asshat?

  I shook my head against the thought. Camille was the absolute last person I should fall in love with: we lived in two different time zones, we were practically family, and the only time we got along was when our mouths were busy kissing. Blah, blah, blah, excuses, excuses! Can you imagine what it’s going to be like when you leave here? Face it, man, you are fucked!

  “Dalton... hey, Dalton, are ya in there, lad?” Camille asked, snapping her fingers in front of my face, effectively ending my little self-talk moment.

  I grabbed her hand and was about to bring her fingers to my lips to kiss them when I thought better of it and quickly released her. If she was upset about it, she didn’t show it.

  “Yes, Camille?”

  “I’m sorry I was a pain earlier, my head was up me own arse, but I’m perfectly okay now. Friends?” she asked, holding out her hand for me to grasp.

  Again thankful that she had let me off the hook, and feeling like a jerk for being so relieved, I swatted her hand away and pulled her into a hug. She stiffened for a moment and when she pulled back, I held on. I didn’t let go until she had relaxed into my embrace and wrapped her arms around my waist.

  “Okay, enough of the friendship hugs, we have wedding details to take care of today. This shindig is in less than a week!” she declared as she pulled away. I wasn’t sure if she kept using the word "friendship" to remind me or herself of the limitations of our argreement, but it didn’t matter; we both knew the score and nothing could change that.

  “So, what’s on the list today, woman?” I asked in a jovial tone.

  She grabbed a notepad out of the drawer near the sink and dug around until she came out with a blue pen.

  “Well, we have to get the rings from the jewelers, confirm the wedding cake delivery for the morning of the wedding, double check with the caterers to make sure everyone is on the same page, talk to the priest that Synclair reserved, and make sure the flower truck, chairs, linens, place settings, and wait staff are all ready to be here to set up on Saturday morning at six sharp.”

  “Like six in the morning? The wedding isn’t until one in the afternoon.” That seemed like an awfully early time to be getting up, considering how long of a day it would be.

  “Yes, I promised me cousin and Sara and, by extension, yer brothers that I would plan a grand wedding, complete with spring flowers and tents to make sure we all stay dry, all of this taking place on Halloween. So, instead of running through town watching all the little kids racing about in their costumes, I will be making sure Synclair has the wedding she deserves. Just like a fairytale,” she finished, smiling.

  “Will it rain on Saturday?” I knew the weather here was unpredictable and, just in the weeks I had been here, the air had a bitter cold feeling to it at night.

  “Actually, we’re in luck: it’s not supposed to rain until late that night, but we will still need to make sure all the portable heaters I ordered are running full blast in the wedding supper tent. Otherwise, we’ll all freeze to death before the first dance!” I could tell she was really enjoying this. Her eyes were bright as she went to describe the wedding she had planned down to the minute details.

  “You are an amazing woman, Camile,” I said as the words just spilled out before I could stop them.

  She was not fazed for a second. “Och, you say that to all the women who give you a mind-blowing orgasm,” she teased, grinning.

  She grabbed her keys and purse, then threw me my black coat and quickly pulled on her own.

  As I numbly followed her outside to her clown car, I was struck by a thought: she was wrong, I had never said that to another woman, and she was the only one that had ever given me a mind-blowing orgasm. Would it be so bad to let her in, to take the risk this once?

  Stupid inner voice. Yes, yes it would be that bad, because what if I lost her? The world was unpredictable and love can’t save you from car wrecks and cancer and all the other things that can tear someone you love from your life.

  You’re not your parents.

  Okay, I get it, this is the part where I realize that my casual approach to relationships is about the fear of losing someone that I let myself love. I’m supposed to get all weepy and excited because I know that I’m just afraid to love someone because it hurt so much to lose my parents, or I’m trying to avoid the pain that Reece went through everyday that he was without Synclair in his life. Well, not happening! Maybe I’m stubborn and maybe all of that whole "fear of loving" thing is true and, just maybe, I hide behind the idea that when I find the one my desire for all women will just stop because I know it goes deeper than that. Maybe I was so deep in my own bullshit that I wasn’t even sure what I believed anymore.

  Or maybe, for the first time, you found the girl that makes you forget any other woman exists, maybe you found the girl you love and are scared shitless because you know she could love you back and this bullshit world you created will cease to exist and you’d have to create a new one.

  Fuck off, I told myself inwardly. You know you have reached a whole new level of crazy when you’re arguing with yourself inside your own head while traveling in a clown car. Next, I’d be buying drinks two at time, one for each side of my face.

  Coward! You’ve stared down insurgents in Afghanistan, you’ve faced burying your own parents, took on five drunk locals in Germany when they jumped your cousin while you were both waiting for your ride back to the States, and you can’t admit that you like her-like her?

  Fine! I told myself, I like her-like her, now fuck off before people start to notice my crazy is sticking out and I get thrown in a psych ward. I crossed my hands across my head defensively as Camille rattled off which stops we would make first.

  Soooooooo! Whatcha gonna do about it?

  "Nothing," I grumbled under my breath.

  Coward.

  Seriously, a sharp stick to the eye would be preferble to this inner dialogue I had going on.

  Cowaaaaaaard!

  Yeah, I am.

  With that little self-realization, I turned my attention on Camille, who hadn’t stopped talking since we left. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like she was nervous and was trying really hard to put me at ease. The first female friend I’d had in my life and she was trying to make me feel better about the fact that she liked me-liked me and I her. Yet, we were both too chicken shit to change the rules of the game.

  Cami

  Well, I had gone and stepped in a pile of crap of me own making. When I woke up this morning alone, I felt kind of hurt. Then, I had remembered the last words that were spoken the night before and, again, me chest ached. It wasn’t until I was reading Dalton the riot act in front of me parents over the stunt his sister had pulled that I realized I had no cause to be pissed at him.

  Dalton had done everything he had promised he’d do. He let me control the pace of intimacy, he complimented and encouraged at every turn, and had not gotten angry or impatient once. Well, except for last night when I thought he was rejecting me, but even that was him being upset that I would think badly of me own self. I have to admit that, since Dalton had arrived in Dublin, I could feel meself changing bit by bit, and I owed it all to him.

  How did I thank the lad? By being pissy and threatening his little sister. Don’t get me wrong, I was rightly pissed when I saw the marriage petition and I didn’t miss the look of horror that crossed Dalton’s face. One thing was for certain, the lad definitely didn’t want to be married, didn’t want to fall in love, and what kind of ungrateful wanker was I that I would hold that against him?

  A huge wanker, that�
�s what I was. I decided from that moment I would force meself to remind both him and me that we were friends; that way when he left next week I could smile and wave good-bye, knowing that I have some great memories and be thankful for what was, instead of being upset about what couldn’t be. I feel Dalton was struggling with himself, even though he was acting like he was paying attention to what I was telling him about all of our stops today. Who could blame the lad? I was his first female friend, and I went from just kissing and wanting to keep the whole thing a secret to liplocking him in front of everyone, tying him to a bed, and sucking on his glorious cock. If anyone was wrong here, it was me, because I kept sending mixed signals. It was like I would pull him close with one hand and push him away with the other. It was no wonder his feelings were all screwed up, as new as this intimacy things was to me, the friendship thing was to him.

  Now that I understood where we were and where we weren’t and, most importantly, where he could never go, I was feeling much calmer. Yes, it hurt me feelings a bit to know that I cared for Dalton beyond friendship - I wouldn’t call it love, but I knew that if Dalton had shown just a wee bit of interest in that direction it could definitely get there. That was another thing I owed him for: I had been so set against loving anyone because of me fear of rejection that I refused to even entertain the thought of ever loving someone. How silly it was of me to cut meself off from loving someone because I had some bad experiences. Truly, the idea of Sean Walsh being me one and only boyfriend that I’d had over the entirety of me life would be a pitiful waste of meself.

  I had decided I would do everything I could to get Dalton to open up to me. Sure, it kind of stung that I was doing all the work and some other lucky girl would get to have him, but wasn’t that what a true friend was? Wasn’t a friend supposed to help him see that he didn’t have to lock himself away from love either? Just because Dalton couldn’t or wouldn’t love me didn’t mean that there wasn’t someone out there that would make him feel like she was willing to take the risk for.

  Hey, don’t give me that crap, people! I’m having a real grown-up moment here and I would appreciate a little support for me new and healthier approach to love and friendship. I know you are all hoping that someday Dalton will turn to me and just fall madly in love with me so hard that he breaks down all his defenses and professes his undying love. Well, this is reality, folks, and I have more chance of Sean Walsh turning into a pumpkin than I do of Dalton Hudson letting go of walls he’s had around his heart for a good set of years in the time I have left before he returns home.

  “Come on, Dalton, let’s get the rings first and then we’ll stop in the pub for lunch. You haven’t had Chowder this good anywhere, and I’ll even get you a slice of the Bailey’s Cheescake,” I promised.

  Dalton looked at me and his smile almost looked grateful. Good, I was offically withdrawing the claws and going with fun and friendship.

  “Actually, that sounds awesome. I take it the cheesecake is made with Bailey’s Irish cream?” he asked and I was thankful that his teasing nature had returned.

  “Is there another way?” I asked, grinning as I parked the car and waited for him to join me in front of the jewelers.

  Always the gentleman, he moved ahead of me and opened the door to the shop, the bell above announcing our arrival to Mr. Paddingstone. Mr. Paddingstone’s jewelry shop had been in Dublin since the fourteenth century, and if you needed a ring, you came to him.

  “Cami, love, you look so pretty today! Have you done something with your hair?” old Mr. Paddingstone asked as he pulled me into a hug. I smiled and gently hugged him back; as he was approachin' eighty years old, I didn’t want to crush the man. His green eyes smiled and he looked past me to Dalton and held out his hand in greeting.

  Dalton grabbed his hand and shook it, smiling warmly.

  “So, this is the American lad that captured me Cami’s heart?” he asked as he clapped Dalton on the shoulder.

  Dalton looked frozen and I hurried to correct the old man before Dalton dropped dead from fright. “No, no, Mr. Paddingstone, Dalton here is the brother to the grooms; it’s his brother, Reece, who is marrying me cousin, remember?” I asked gently, while throwing a look of apology to Dalton. Any minute, I expected him to run screaming from the store.

  Mr. Paddingstone smiled and patted me hand. “Ah, that’s right, you were the one that told me what kind of bridal sets the American’s wanted,” he said, nodding his head.

  I let out a sigh of relief when he slowly made his way back round the counter and pulled out two blue ring boxes. I knew exactly what each box contained. Both women had decided to forego an engagement ring, since the wedding was so close, and they had opted to choose their wedding sets instead. Synclair had chosen an emerald-cut, two carat diamond that had a small emerald on one side and a tiger eye on the other, representing Reece’s dragon-green eyes, as she had called them once, and her hazel gold orbs. Lucas and Sara had chosen a simple titanium band for him and a simple marqee diamond in a brilliant setting where one thread of silver wrapped around the stone like a vine. I had taken extra care to make sure the couples got exactly what they wanted. Besides, when you’re shelling out thousands of dollars on a ring, it’s important not to be dissapointed.

  I smiled as I waited for Mr. Paddingstone to open each case. He did so slowly and not without some difficulty, given that his hands lacked the strengh they once had. Once he had opened the ring boxes and pushed them forward, I almost giggled. They were perfect, exactly what each couple had asked for. I turned to Dalton, who nodded his head appreciatively as he eyed the two bridal sets.

  “They look amazing, Mr. Paddingstone; like always, you never dissapoint,” I told him as I carefully closed each box. I watched while he placed them in a small bag and then held it out to Dalton.

  “You are the best man, aren’t ya, lad?” Mr. Paddingstone asked as the bag swayed to and fro on his long bony index finger.

  I put me hands on me hips and gave Dalton a heated look. I mean, I get it, he doesn’t want to be married, or get married, but he wasn’t going to find himself with a bride if he held a bag that contained wedding rings. It seemed to me his phobia was going just a tad too far over the line of scared and into bat-shit terrified.

  When Dalton made no move to grab the bag, I gently took it off Mr. Paddingstone’s finger. “Don’t mind him, Mr. Paddingstone, and yes both he and his brother Matt are the best men, and their sister Rachel is the maid of honor, along with meself,” I explained, trying to give Dalton time to snap out of the odd stare he was giving the ring bag.

  “Ah, I see. Well, when you two are ready to pick out your set, you make sure you come back and see me,” he said with a wink. I literally felt Dalton’s anxiety and watched him take a physical step backwards toward the door.

  I turned to usher Dalton out of the shop before the lad fainted dead away when Mr. Paddingstone placed one hand on me arm.

  “Was there something else, Mr. Paddingstone?” I asked while keeping one eye on a very pale Dalton Hudson.

  “Yes, they had ordered two simple gold bands to go on the ring pillow that the lad carries down the aisle,” he told me as he reached below the counter for another ring box. Once opened, there were two gold bands, one obviously for a woman and the larger for a man. I looked up at him, confused. I didn’t remember Reece or Synclair mentioning a ring pillow? In fact, we didn’t have a flower girl or ring bearer in the ceremony at all, the bestmen were to hand the rings over to the couple at the appropriate time. Yet, the slip in the box had Synclair’s name and phone number listed. Maybe it was a last-minute idea that she had failed to mention. The fact that the slip was marked paid pretty much sealed the fact that I was taking it with me. I would just call Synclair and ask her about it later.

  I considered waiting until she arrived in a few days, since the entire wedding party was going to fly in on Wednesday so that they were here early for the wedding on Saturday. It also gave us girls time to get our hair and nails done the day
before. Looking at Dalton, I knew I had to get him out of there, as he was starting to turn a ghastly shade of green.

  Grabbing the box and placing it in the bag with the others sets, I quickly thanked Mr. Paddingstone and practically dragged Dalton out of the shop by one arm.

  “Breathe, Hudson, just breath, come on… in... out… in… out,” I instructed as he bent over at the waist and panted.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened, I just, aw damn! Camille, I don’t even know what to say right now,” he stumbled, the color slowly returning to his face.

  I refused to let him feel embarrassed. How often had I freaked out and hyperventilated when it came to sex? Far too many a time, and I knew how bad it felt to be teased. “Just say that you’re hungry for some awesome chowder, because I can’t wait to sink me teeth into piece of that Bailey’s cheesecake,” I told him.

  He stood up straight and gifted me with his classic Dalton-smile, but this time it was mixed with a lot of relief and a ton of gratitude.

  I began to walk down the street toward the restaurant I wanted to bring him to, but had only taken a few steps when I realized he wasn’t moving.

  “Camille?” he asked in a whisper.

  “Yeah?” I answered, worried that maybe he was worse off than I thought.

  “Thanks,” he said and, in that one word, conveyed so much more. His eyes spoke what he didn’t, mostly that he knew I was moving past his episode in the ring shop and he was eternally grateful.

  “Come, Dalton, we’re friends, so that means I have your back and you have mine,” I told him and, for a moment, his eyes took on a look I couldn’t read. It made me core tingle with lust and I did me best to pretend I didn’t feel it.

  Grabbing his arm, I dragged him alongside me. “Enough carryin' on, I have a place to take you to eat that has been here since 1162. The place has survived kings, queens, invaders, and the Nintendo generation, so I’m sure it will survive our brand of weirdness just fine.” With that, I went to step forward when his hands intertwined with mine.