28
“Dad’s here,” Owen calls excitedly from his place at the window.
“Okay,” I call back as my heart goes into epileptic fit mode. Good God, what on earth’s going to happen today? We’re going shopping for new clothes for Owen. He’s had a growth spurt and nothing fits him. Then we’re having lunch before going to the Stantons’ tonight for a family dinner to celebrate Jordana’s birthday.
A full day with him.
Cameron Stanton overload.
And a full day of me pretending not to want him. Even though I know I shouldn’t want him …
It’s official. He’s a bona fide sex god. I felt his lips on mine for hours after I went to bed last night, and that was after I stared at the mirror for an hour smiling goofily at my reflection.
I’ve been thinking on this all night, and as I see it, I have three choices. Either, I can fall hopelessly into his arms and declare undying love for him and become his doormat for life. Or, I could completely reject his advances and cut all ties other than Owen, and maybe try to move on with someone else. But, to be honest, isn’t that just cutting off my nose to spite my face? Isn’t the ultimate goal to try and work it out so that maybe we could be a united, happy family one day?
Or, three… I could try to play it cool, make him sweat for a while, and hopefully regain some trust, then maybe just… I don’t know… see how it goes?
I race to the mirror in my bathroom and take another look at myself. I got up early and straightened my honey golden hair so it hangs just below my shoulders. I’m wearing a chunky, cream woollen dress that has short cap sleeves. It’s straight and fitted, falling to mid shin length. It fits nice and I think it looks sexy without trying too hard. An annoying little voice from deep inside reminds me that this is his favorite dress.
Hell, why am I wearing it when he knows that I know that this is his favorite dress?
I’m pathetic.
Damn it, I should have worn something he hates. I close my eyes in disgust at my inability to play it cool already. I blow out a breath and reapply my lip gloss before I head downstairs. I find Cameron and Owen standing near the front door, waiting for me. Cameron’s eyes glance up and glow with affection when he sees me coming down the stairs
He’s wearing army green cargo pants and a black V-neck T-shirt with a puffy sports kind of vest unzipped. His usual expensive trendy get up. His dark hair is a mass of unruly, messy curls and his big lips are an appealing shade of come fuck me.
I smile nervously. “Good morning.”
His eyes hold mine. “Momma’s looking beautiful today, Owie, isn’t she?” He smiles sexily.
Owen smiles an over-the-top smile and nods. I get to the bottom of the steps and Cameron walks over and picks up my hand. His eyes don’t leave mine as he softly kisses the back of my hand.
Oh really? He’s just so…
I glance down at Owen and he frowns slightly as his eyes flick between us in surprise.
What is the appropriate parent etiquette for this kind of thing? How much is too much, and can you flirt in front of your child without it being weird? I’m quite sure Cameron is going overboard here.
I pull my hand out of Cameron’s grip. “Let’s go. Wouldn’t want to creep out Owen, would we?”
I widen my eyes at Cameron and he smiles cheekily and throws me a wink.
The thing about shopping with boys is… it completely sucks.
“How about this?” I hold up a shirt and Cameron and Owen both shake their heads and turn up their noses.
I roll my eyes. “Why don’t you like anything I pick?” I ask.
Owen shrugs as he sits in the shopping cart his father is pushing around the department store. We’ve been here for over an hour and only picked out one sweater.
“Because you’re picking out the daggiest clothes in history.” Cameron sighs. “That shirt is guaranteed social suicide.”
“It is not.” I rearrange the collar of the shirt I am holding and smile as I hold it up to Owen. “Look how cute you look, baby?”
Cam screws up his face in disgust. Owen rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
I slam it back onto the rack in disgust. “Well, you two pick something,” I snap. “I’m sick of my choices being rejected.”
“Alright.” Cameron frowns. He takes his task seriously and pushes his cart off into the distance as he looks around. Owen, too, begins to scan the clothes racks from his cart seat.
I follow them, distracted by my stomach rumbling.
“I’m starving,” I announce.
“I’ve got something you can eat,” Cameron says, distracted.
I stare at him, deadpan, and he glances over his shoulder and smirks.
“Dirty bastard,” I mouth.
He winks and keeps looking. “What about this?” he says as he takes a sweater from the shelf and holds it up.
I look at it and my face falls in horror. It’s a black hoodie and has a large white eye on the front. The pupil is filled with bright colours. It’s a long, skinny fit.
“Yeah, Dad!” Owen calls excitedly. “That’s totally sick.”
“I know, right?” Cam smiles. He holds up his fist and Owen punches it with his closed fist.
Oh God. I roll my eyes in disgust. This boys club thing they have going on is really getting out of hand.
“Yes, Owen, it does look sick. Like somebody vomited on it, sick,” I mutter.
“Can I have it, Dad?” Owen begs.
“Sure thing, buddy.” Cameron throws it into the cart.
I look at him, deadpan. “You do know he’s four, right?”
“Yes, so why are you dressing him like he’s eighty?” Cam mutters, distracted as he spots a pair of army green skinny jeans. He smiles and holds them up for Owen and Owen’s eyes nearly pop from the sockets.
“Yeah, baby.” Cameron smiles as he puts them into the cart. “You could wear these with your black high tops,” Cameron instructs.
“Yes!” Owen exclaims excitedly. “With the eyeball sweater?”
“That is sick,” Cam agrees.
“So cool.” Owie smiles.
“Oh my God,” I mutter in disgust. “I’m not taking you anywhere in this outfit.”
“We could wear this when we go to the skate park,” Cameron replies.
“Yeah,” Owen yells.
I frown. “You take him to the skate park?”
“Of course.”
“We go down the half pipe.” Owen smiles proudly.
My eyes widen. “You go down the half pipe?” I shriek.
Cameron flicks the peak on Owen’s cap. “I told you not to tell her that,” he whispers.
My mouth drops open in shock. “You tell him to not tell me stuff?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t tell her we skate on the road, Dad,” Owen adds.
“Cameron Stanton!” I snap. “What the hell? You skate on the road?”
Cameron flicks the peak of his hat again. “Big mouth.”
After half an hour and a cart full of clothes that are suitable for a trendy designer fashion show, we make our way to the fitting rooms. Cameron lifts Owen out and shows him in and organizes the outfits he is to try on together.
I smirk as I stand back. It’s so nice having someone else to help me with Owen. Jenna is fantastic, but I always try and take over because I feel guilty that she does too much.
With Cameron, I can let him go as much as he wants and feel no guilt whatsoever.
We are in the fitting rooms and Cam pops his head around the curtain to speak to Owen. “Try these pants on first mate with this top.” He pauses for a minute as he watches him. “Do you want me to help?”
“I can do it,” Owie replies.
“Alright, alright.” Cam nods as he comes back out of the curtain. “What is it with the not wanting help thing?” he asks.
I shrug. “He does it to me as well.”
My phone rings and Andrew’s name lights up the screen. Shit. I hope his mom is okay. I haven’t had time to go and see her yet. “It’s Andrew.”
Cameron frowns. “Your ex?”
I nod as I answer it. “Hello, Andrew.”
“Hi, Ash. How are you?”
I smile. “I’m good. Is your mom okay?” I glance over at Cam as he listens intently.
“She’s alright.” He pauses. “She’s running out of time.”
My face falls. “I’m so sorry.” I sigh.
“She’s asking for you, Ash. She wants to see you and Owen.”
I blow out a breath and my eyes rise up to Cameron. “Yes, of course. I can come to New York next weekend,” I reply
Cameron frowns.
“Dad. I’m finished,” Owen yells.
Cameron sticks the new pair of pants through the curtain without even looking in Owen’s direction. His eyes are glued on me.
“That would be great.” Andrew sighs relieved.
“You can arrange for us to see her on the Saturday, if that’s okay.” I think for a moment. “We can fly down on Friday night.”
“Thanks, Ash,” he replies. “It’ll be nice to see you.”
Cameron is watching me like a hawk. “It will.” I smile as I try to act casual. “See you then.”
“Dad, I’m finished,” Owen calls.
Cameron flicks the curtain back and looks in. “Excellent, we’re definitely getting those. Now try on the jeans, too,” he mutters, distracted.
“I have to go to New York next weekend,” I announce.
“Is his mom alright?” Cameron asks.
I shake my head. “She’s asking to see me and Owen.”
He nods as he thinks for a moment. “Okay, so we go to New York next weekend.”
I frown. “What do you mean we?”
“Well, you don’t honestly think I’m letting my family go to New York without me, do you?”
I only heard one thing in that sentence: My family.
“Cameron.” I frown.
He walks forward, effectively pushing me back into the dressing room. “I could help out with Owen.” He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear.
I frown as my brain stops working because of his close proximity.
“We could get a family suite with a couple of bedrooms,” he adds to sweeten the deal. “You won’t even have to share a bedroom with me.”
I fold my arms in front of me as he tries to talk me into it.
“We could go Friday night, you can go and see them on Saturday, and then on Sunday we could go to the zoo or something. Just the three of us.” He smiles hopefully
I smirk as I look up at him. “You would do that?” I ask.
He smiles and takes my face in his hands. “Of course I would. You’re my girl. I would do anything for my girl.” He bends and takes my lips in his as he holds my face. The kiss is tender, sweet, and lingering. I feel my feet lift off the floor.
“Are you making another baby?” Owen asks, interrupting our moment.
We both look up to find Owen watching us in his underpants.
“Yes, we are,” Cameron grumbles, annoyed. “Why are you out here half naked?”
“Because you didn’t bring the clothes in,” he says as he puts his little hand on his hip with attitude. “You need to concentrate, Dad, you know.”
I giggle at the sight of a four-year-old telling his father off. Cameron rolls his eyes and disappears back into the fitting room to continue his duties.
“Let me think about it,” I call behind him.
I already know my answer and I smile to myself. It looks like we’re all going to New York… together.
Later that afternoon, we walk into Natasha and Joshua’s house for Jordana’s birthday dinner. We’ve had a fun day. We went out for lunch and then back to Cam’s house this afternoon. I had a nap on the couch while they skateboarded together on the road. I’ve lost that battle already.
Cameron has kissed me three times today. Once in the fitting room, once in the parking lot after lunch after Owen got into the car, and once in his kitchen at home.
That was the best kiss yet and he had to go and hide in the pantry for a while until the evidence of his arousal… calmed down.
I feel like I’m slipping down a steep hill that leads back to him, and no matter how hard I try to hang onto the rocks beneath my feet, I can’t stop the gravity that’s pulling me down.
He’s beautiful—everything about Cameron is beautiful, and I’m not sure how, after just four kisses, I seem to be forgiving him for all the hell he put me through.
How could I forget what he’s done?
But then his reasonings last night seemed so heartfelt and I really want to believe that he was trying to do the right thing.
His family.
That’s what we would be. If we get past all this and make it through the other side, we would be a family. How wonderful.
We get through the usual security and head up to the house. The front door is wide open and the familiar sound of children’s laughter rings out. Owen grips Cameron’s hand tight. It always takes him ten minutes to warm up until he’s off running riot with the other Stanton children.
These kids are amongst the strongest willed children I have ever met, and funnily enough, when Owen is with them he seems to take on some of their power. He fights back now and doesn’t put up with nonsense from anyone. I got called up to the preschool this week because apparently Owen punched that bully kid in the nose. I was mortified, yet Cameron saw it as a victory. Funnily enough the kid hasn’t gone near him again since.
I think this is how it was when the Stanton boys were young. Joshua is naturally strong willed and Cameron is naturally like Owen, but because he grew up with such strong characters as brothers, he turned out to be a force to be reckoned with, too. Natasha said that Scott, the eldest Stanton, is just like Joshua, while Wilson, the youngest, is just like Cam.
Cameron takes my hand in his, but I pull out of his grip and shake my head subtly.
He frowns in question.
“Not yet,” I whisper. I don’t want anyone to know what’s going on between us when I don’t even know what that is myself.
He frowns and subtly shakes his head in annoyance. We walk out into the large kitchen and family room area and everyone comes into view. Adrian, Tash, Josh, Jarvis, Nicholas are all there, as well as… oh no… Margaret. Cameron’s mother is sitting on the lounger. I haven’t seen her since she told Cameron about Owen being his son.
This should be fun… not!
They smile as they see us. “Hello,” everyone calls as their attention all turns to us.
“Mom and Dad are making another baby,” Owen announces to the crowd.
My eyes widen. Oh dear God, no. The blood drains from my face.
The room falls silent and Cameron flicks Owen’s cap peak. “Big mouth,” he mutters. “We kissed, that’s all,” Cameron tells them all. “Just kissing. Owen, you’re going to get it,” he snaps.
Joshua shakes his head and the room breaks into laughter and chatter. My eyes flick to Margaret. Her cold, calculating eyes hold mine, and I shrivel under her glare.
Holy shit, this woman is pure evil. She’s openly furious.
I feel my nerves flutter, and Cam puts his hand on the small of my back in a silent show of support.
“Come in, come in.” Tash smiles as she glides over and embraces me.
I nervously walk in and through to the kitchen as everyone goes back to their conversations.
“What’s going on?” Tash whispers so that nobody else can hear. She puts her arm around me in excitement.
“Nothing.” I shrug. “He apologized last night and we kissed, that’s all. I’m not even sure myself,” I add.
“Oh my God, I’m so excited. Get some wine. We’re celebrating,” she whispers as she squeezes my hand in hers.
I smile. I love this girl. She has all the money in the world, yet she’s still so damn normal. If I’d just met her on the street today, I would never know she has money except for the huge rock on her finger… and the security guards, of course.
A bang sounds out the back and then the screaming starts.
Blake has crashed his bike into a huge ceramic pot and is now crying. Everyone rushes outside to his aid, so I turn to pour myself a glass of wine.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Margaret’s cold voice hisses behind me.
What?
I turn to her as my heart starts to thud. “I beg your pardon?”
“Who in the hell do you think you are?” She growls.
“I could ask you the same question.”
She steps forward. “Do you really think that trapping my son is the way to go?”
“I haven’t trapped anybody.”
“That’s your plan, isn’t it? You little gold digger. You get yourself pregnant and turn up here to demand half of Cameron’s empire.”
“What?” I frown. “You’re delusional. Leave me alone, Margaret. I have nothing to say to you.” I turn my back on her because I know if I don’t, I’m going to lose my living shit.
“Listen here, you lying little witch,” she continues behind me. “You walk out of my son’s life right now. He doesn’t need a distraction like you and he is not your bank boost or ticket to freedom.”
“How dare you?” Cameron growls from behind us, and we both turn in surprise.
Cameron walks over and puts his arm around me. “Don’t you ever speak to her like that again. Do you understand me?” he yells.
“She’s… she’s no good for you, Cam,” she stammers nervously. “She’s a gold digger. She got pregnant on purpose and then she turns up here, making demands.”
Cameron steps closer to her. “Let’s get on thing straight here… I’m the one pursuing Ashley. It’s not the other way around. I’m the one who fucked up, and if I have it my way, she’ll soon be back with me and you will have nothing to fucking do with it.” Natasha and Joshua come back inside and frown as they approach all the shouting.
Cameron glares at his mom. “If you dare disrespect Ashley again, you disrespect me and Owen, too, and I’m not going to allow that to happen. You better apologize now.” He growls.
“I will do nothing of the sort,” she snaps.
“Margaret,” Natasha interrupts. “Cut it out. Ashley is my friend, and what was she supposed to do? She had no way of contacting Cameron. How dare you speak to her like this?”
“Natasha, she’s fooled you, too. She got pregnant on purpose. This was no accident,” Margaret shouts.
“That’s enough, Mother.” Joshua sneers.
“Apologize,” Cameron yells.
“No,” she shouts back.
“That’s it.” Cameron growls. “Get Owen, Ashley. We’re leaving. I’m not putting up with this shit.”
“No,” I say calmly as my eyes hold Margaret’s.
The room falls silent.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Margaret narrows her eyes and raises her chin defiantly.
I fold my arms in front of me and smirk. “You misunderstand me, Margaret. I’m a lot of things, but weak isn’t one of them.”
“How dare you? This is my son’s house.”
I smile sarcastically. “Oh, I dare. This is Owen’s family time, and I will stay with my son while he’s here. If you don’t like it, that’s just too bad.”
Our eyes are locked.
“You don’t have to like me, Margaret,” I say calmly. “But, as my son’s grandmother, I will try my best to like you……. although you are making that increasingly difficult.” I glance over and Natasha smirks.
“Now, if you don’t mind cutting down on your dramatics, I’m here for Jordana’s birthday. Go and make a scene somewhere else.”
The room falls silent and I turn to Cameron and kiss him on the lips quickly. “I’ll be out the back, baby.” Then I turn and head out the door.
“Hell, yeah,” I hear Joshua mutter as Natasha giggles.
I smirk and head outside without looking back.
Fuck off, you old mole. I’m not taking your shit and I’m not backing down.
I do things my way.