Chapter Eight
Benson
Who knew that actively hating someone was so exhausting? Now that Piper agreed to bury the hatchet, it’s quite a relief.
Not that we’re best friends now. Far from it. But at least the snide remarks and jabs can be pushed back to a minimum now.
Or so I hope.
I invited her back to my cabin, the one I built myself on the outskirts of my campground. It’s nothing exuberant, but it’s cozy and small and feels like home.
“Before we discuss the whole camping-trip-slash-fake-engagement-debaucle, shouldn’t we clear the air between us?” I ask her while refilling my coffee maker with fresh beans.
“You mean, explain why you have a fancy coffee machine that uses actual beans when you’re so keen on going back to basics?” she asks. “Isn’t that against your holy camping rules?”
“That’s not what I mean. And second, I live here. I don’t sleep in a tent year-round, and I drink fancy coffee. Happy?”
“Then what did you mean?”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d personally love to know why you hate me so much.”
She leans against the counter. “I thought it was clear.”
“I wouldn’t ask you if it was, Piper. The way I see it, you took one look at me and decided I was someone you didn’t like.”
She laughs. “What are you talking about? It was the exact opposite. You met me and looked down on me right away.”
“No, I didn’t. Why would you say that?”
“Because, instead of congratulating me, you went on and on about how glamping isn’t real. Well, I’ve got news for you, Benson. Judging by the money I make running my campground, it is real camping.”
I shake my head. “It’s not, but that doesn’t mean I look down on you. Hey, if you like pairing the experience of connecting with nature and sleeping in a tent with hotel-quality linens and fresh-baked croissants for breakfast, be my guest. To each their own. But it’s still not real camping.”
She shakes her head and sighs dramatically. “We do not even serve croissants. Not fresh-baked ones anyway.”
“For the record, I don’t look down on you. I think it’s great what you’ve accomplished with your business in only a few years’ time.”
“Oh really? So you’re telling me you don’t feel better than me because you offer the ‘real deal’ when it comes to camping?” she asks, using air quotes when she says ‘real deal’. “You’re out there roughing it and judging me and my customers because they don’t like that aspect of camping.”
I pour her a cup of coffee and laugh. “It’s not like that at all. Wow, I can’t believe you think I’m such a jerk. I’d suggest getting to know me better before you jump to more conclusions.”
She gives me a shrug of the shoulder and takes her cup of coffee back to the couch with her. “Fine. I might eventually change my opinion about you, but you’re going to have to work for it.”
“So will you. You have a tendency to jump to conclusions and create false assumptions about people before you give them an honest chance,” I tell her.
“I do not.”
I stare her down.
“Okay, maybe that’s what I did with you.” She plucks a piece of lint from her dress. “Does any of that even matter right now? What we should be discussing is what we’re going to do with this camping trip and with my mother’s wedding present.”
She utters those last two words as if they taste like acid.
“The way I see it, we should go on the camping trip to keep up appearances while your mother is in town. But we’ll definitely have to kiss the plot of land goodbye. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to marry you just to get it,” I say.
She nods. “You’re right. Although… I’m not sure what Mom will do if I tell her we broke up. She’ll probably sell the land again, and then we’re both back to square one.”
“Wouldn’t she just give it to you anyway? Why go through all the trouble of acquiring it just to sell it again?”
Piper laughs. “Oh, Benson. I love how clueless you are about how my mom operates. She’s a kind woman, but as you know, she’s also incredibly fixated on the idea of me getting married. Money isn’t her main concern—she’s got plenty of it. And before you suggest it, there’s no way I’m going to ask her for a handout or a loan. I promised my parents years ago that I’d carve out my own life and career without leaning on their money. The last thing I want is to go back with my tail between my legs and tell them they were right about me not being able to do it all on my own. Accepting their money comes with conditions—ones I don’t want.”
“So you’re saying your mother would rather see you miserable about having to live next to some high-rise resort than just give you the land because of some silly promise you made?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around this.
Piper sighs, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not that simple. My mom has this idea of how my life should look, and she’s convinced that if I just follow her plan to a T, everything will magically fall into place. She’s been trying to marry me off to every eligible guy she can find since I turned twenty-two. This whole thing with the land is just her latest scheme to get me to settle down for real. What she longs for is a signed legal document that ties me to a man, not just a relationship. She won’t rest until I have a ring on my finger because she thinks I’ll be lost without a husband in my life.”
I pull a face. “That’s kind of twisted.”
“Look, I’m not saying that that’s how it’s going to go down. She might give me the land anyway. Who knows? She’s always full of surprises.”
“So what’s your suggestion?”
She wrings her hands together while shaking her head. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but we should keep fake dating and you should probably propose. Not that we’ll actually get married. Let’s keep it realistic.” She laughs. “But… maybe I can sway her. Maybe she’ll give it to us as an engagement present instead of a wedding gift.”
“You think that could work?”
“I hope so. What choice do we have? We’re already buried in lies as it is, and I’m not about to give up on my dream so easily. I want to turn that plot of land into a luxury cabin retreat so that people can pick between a glamping tent or a real cabin.”
I give her a horrified look. “Yeah, not on my watch. I was thinking of expanding my tent sites and turning the rest into a place where people can learn wilderness skills. You know, fire-making, orientation, rope knots. The idea is getting people back to nature, not pampering them.”
“Seriously, Benson? Your customers can’t even get one sliver of comfort from you, can they?”
Great. This again. I cross my arms. “Exactly. There’s something pure about the wilderness, about stripping away all the luxuries and just being in nature. People need that. They need to disconnect from their everyday lives and find out what they’re really made of.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “And you think my idea is what? A five-star hotel with room service in the middle of the forest?”
“Pretty much. Look, we’ve clearly got different visions. You want something luxurious, and I want something authentic. Something real, you know?”
She lets out an exasperated breath. “And what, a luxury cabin can’t be authentic? People can still connect with nature without having to sleep on the ground, Benson.”
“It’s not the ground, technically speaking. People bring sleeping pads.”
“This behavior is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re insufferable!”
I hold my hands up. “Fine, I’ll let it go. If we do end up getting the land, we’ll have to strike a balance between our wants anyway, but for now, let’s agree to focus on our fake relationship. We’ve got some practicing to do.”
“I don’t need to practice anything.”
“How about kissing?”
“We’re not going to kiss in public, so no.”
I scoot closer and wiggle my eyebrows at her to taunt her. “What if I’m the kind of boyfriend who can’t keep his hands off you? If you were my girl, I’d kiss you all the time.”
Her breath audibly hitches in her throat when I say my girl , and her reaction makes me feel all warm inside.
“Would it be realistic to believe that you’d be able to keep your hands off of me?” I press on, just to tease her.
Her gaze rakes over my body as if she’s actually considering my question. I notice how her eyes linger a moment too long on my arms and shoulders before traveling back up again.
“Being handsome isn’t everything, Benson. Guys need a great personality in addition to their looks.”
My face stretches into a broad grin. “Ha! You think I’m handsome!”
She gives me an eye roll. “Objectively speaking, maybe. But your current rating is way lower because of your insufferable ways. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed. Spending an evening with you was more exhausting than I could’ve imagined.”
Before I get the chance to tease her some more, she’s up and out the door, almost like she’s running away from the electricity that lingers in her eyes.
I lean back into the couch cushions with a triumphant grin. Tonight wasn’t so bad. It was actually kind of fun.
And Piper admitted she thinks I’m handsome. Definitely the highlight of the evening.
I go to bed happy, and for the first time ever, I’m genuinely looking forward to spending more time with Piper.