5
“And out here is where we serve cocktails at dusk,” the snooty wedding planner says with her plum-in-mouth accent.
“Ah, yes, lovely.” Cameron smiles enthusiastically as he looks around.
I walk behind them both like a petulant child. The gardens are perfect. The whole thing is perfect. But it’s Sunday and we’re now at the sixth wedding reception venue of the day.
They’re snobby, snooty, pretentious, and wanky… even if they’re all perfectly beautiful.
Cameron turns and holds his hand out to me, and I take it in mine. “This one is nice, Bloss.” He smiles hopefully.
“Yeah.” I sigh, unimpressed as I look around.
“What’s wrong with this one?” Cameron whispers, sensing my disapproval.
I shrug and look around. “Nothing, it’s fine.”
“Fine?” Cam repeats as he rolls his eyes. “This is not fine. This is amazing.”
I sigh. “If you say so.”
“And out here is where the dancing in the marquee will take place after the formal dinner.” She points to the trees. “The trees come alive at night with the fairy lights. It’s so romantic and a real sight to behold,” she purrs as she keeps walking up a fancy garden path to show us something else.
I scowl. “A real sight to behold?” I mouth behind her back.
Cameron smirks and slaps my ass. “Stop it. Will you behave yourself?” he whispers.
We come to a circular private clearing with a bar, table, and chairs sitting in the center of it. “And over here we have the cigar bar.” She smiles.
Cameron’s eyes light up. “Cigar bar? Oh, I like that.”
“We have over two-hundred different types of cigars that your guests may pick from, as well as specialty spirits which will be exclusive to your honored guests.”
I roll my eyes. I’ve never heard anything more ridiculous.
She turns to show us something else down another path.
“Can we go?” I whisper.
“No,” Cameron whispers back. “I like this place.”
“I’m not getting married here.”
“Why not?”
“I hate it.”
“Fucking pick somewhere then, Ashley,” he whispers with a fake smile plastered on his face. “There’s been nothing wrong with any of the places I’ve taken you today. If this place doesn’t excite you, I have no idea where will.”
“I would rather be married in a registry office than in any of these wanky places you’ve brought me to.”
He takes my hand and smiles as the lady turns to see what’s taking us so long. She turns back to the front.
“Well…” Cameron whispers. “Owen and I want a nice wedding day. That doesn’t involve a registry office.”
I roll my eyes and exhale loudly. “You just pick somewhere then.”
He frowns. “Why are you being difficult?”
“Why are you being a snob?”
His face falls. “Where do you want to get married? Fucking McDonald’s?”
“It’s better than this crap!” I snap. “I know Owen would definitely like McDonald’s better, too.”
Cameron rolls his eyes and walks forward to listen to the next lot of drivel about how exquisite this place is.
I keep trudging behind them, hating every word that comes out of her mouth.
Who knew picking a wedding venue would be so painful?
It’s Tuesday afternoon. I’m just leaving work, walking through the parking lot toward my car, when my phone rings.
“Hello, Ashley, this is Marissa,” the kind voice says through an obvious smile.
“Hi, Marissa.” I smile. Marissa is one of Cameron’s PAs. She goes into surgery with him.
“Dr. Stanton has just asked me to call you to let you know that his back is playing up and he has a massage therapist coming to the house tonight at eight, so he’ll be having the massage in his office.”
I frown. “Oh.”
“He just wanted me to call ahead in case the therapist gets there a few minutes before he does.” Cameron gets a really tight back from being hunched over in surgery for so long, but he usually goes to the massage therapy place on a Friday afternoon. It must be really acting up.
“Yes, that’s fine, thanks for the warning.” I laugh. “Actually, that’s a great idea. Can you ask Cameron if he can book me in one, too, after him, please?” I ask. My back has been as tight as all hell this week, too.
“Yes, of course. Goodbye.”
I make it to the car and start my journey home when my phone rings again through the Bluetooth. “Hello,” I answer.
“Hi, it’s me again,” Marissa says.
“Hi, Marissa.” I smile.
“Umm…” She pauses. “Dr. Stanton asked me to call you back to say that the massage therapist wouldn’t be able to do that tonight, but he’ll book you something for tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay, no worries,” I reply. “Thank you.” I turn the corner and end the call. Oh, well. Damn it. I could have done with a massage tonight.
At 7:50 p.m. the doorbell rings. Cameron isn’t home from surgery yet but his massage therapist has arrived.
I answer the door and my eyes widen. Suddenly I’m self-conscious because of my daggy attire.
“Hello.” The tall, muscular blond smiles. “I’m Steven. I’m here for Cameron.”
He’s huge and he’s wearing all white clothing with a massage table tucked under his arm. He smells like massage oil.
Holy hell. He’s just so...
“What?” Oh. I shake my head in embarrassment. “Please… come in.” I gesture to the hall. “I think he said you were to set up in the office.”
He smiles, as if knowing my wayward thoughts. He has a dimple in his chin and I find myself smiling goofily as I follow him up the hall.
Wow, this guy is off the charts hot.
“Just in here?” he asks sexily.
Huh... Well, will you look at that? God damn bona fide hot masseuse. Who knew they even existed?
“Yes.” I smile, remembering where I am.
I hear the gates open and I know my man is home. “Cameron won’t be a minute.” I smile as I leave the room. “Nice to meet you, Steven,” I call.
Cameron comes in the front door and kisses me quickly on the lips. “Sorry, Bloss. Is he here?”
“Yes, in your office.”
He walks down to the laundry, takes his scrubs off, and throws them in the washing machine. “I need a quick shower.” He looks around. “Where’s Owen?”
“Oh, he went to bed early. He fell asleep on the couch.”
Cameron’s face falls with disappointment and he walks up to his office in his briefs. “Just a quick shower, man. I won’t be five minutes.”
“Okay,” I hear Steven reply.
Cam closes the door as he leaves the office and goes bouncing up the stairs.
I walk out and flick on the kettle. Hmm, it really is a pity I’m not getting a massage tonight.
I frown as I make my tea. Hang on a minute...
I bet Cameron didn’t even ask if I could have a massage tonight. He doesn’t want me to get a massage because Steven is off the fucking charts hot.
I smirk. Interesting.
An hour and a half later, a very sleepy and relaxed Cameron walks Steven to the front door. “Thank you.” He smiles.
He then comes to me on the couch and I stand and put my arms around his neck. “Hey, babe.” He smiles softly as he takes me in his arms.
“Have you eaten?” I kiss his lips.
“Hmm, yeah. I had some sushi in the car on the way home.” He sighs as he puts his head down onto my shoulder. He really is exhausted.
“How come I couldn’t get a massage tonight?” I ask.
“You can get a massage,” he replies as he feels my behind. “Just not by him.”
I smile. “Why not?”
Cameron frowns. “I don’t want his hands on you.”
“Why? Because he’s good-looking?”
“He’s not touching you. End of discussion.” He pulls out of my grip and turns toward the stairs.
“Well, that’s ridiculous,” I call after him.
“I know what these guys are like. A hot chick like you? His hands would be everywhere.”
My mouth falls open.
“He’s not fucking touching my girl.”
“How come you go to him, then?”
“Because he’s the best.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Cameron, are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
I shake my head and lock up, then I turn the lights off and go upstairs to find Cam already in bed. I tear the quilt back in a huff. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Bullshit. Ask Natasha about her hot massage therapist back in Sydney.”
“What about him?” I snap as I get into bed.
“He bones chicks. Gives them a happy ending at the end of their massage.”
“He does not.”
“Does too. A whole parlor of them who fuck chicks who get massages.”
“Oh... like every other massage parlor for men, you mean?” I reply sarcastically as I roll my back to him. “You’re making this shit up. How would you know this, anyway?
“Natasha got drunk and told Josh that she had a massage with a happy ending.”
My eyes widen, and I get the giggles as I imagine Joshua going crazy ballistic. I’m going to have to ask her about this.
“Well, I just have a tight back. I want a massage with a relaxed ending,” I tell him.
“He’s not touching you, Ashley. Ever. Move on.”
I smirk in the darkness. He’s fun to tease. “Well, if I can’t have Steven as a massage therapist, you can’t have female PAs.”
“Oh, God.” He sighs. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well…” I smirk. “You could run off with a PA and fuck her in the storeroom, how would I know?”
“I specifically don’t hire PAs that I’m attracted to. I’m not an idiot, Ashley. You don’t get your meat where you get your potatoes.”
My mouth falls open in shock and I roll onto my back. “Did you just tell me that you don’t get your meat where you get you potatoes? Meaning work is potatoes? And meat is vaginas?”
“I did. Now go to sleep.” He exhales as he starts to relax. “And if you dare think of Steven again I will crack your back myself.”
I smile into the darkness.
“Don’t smile, it’s going to hurt.” He exhales again. “A lot.”
I drop another load of stuff outside the front door. “Okay, so I have the chairs, the sleeping bags, the air mattresses, the pump, food. What else do we need, Owen?” I think out loud.
Owen shrugs with a broad smile.
“Oh, cleaning stuff.” I go and retrieve the broom, mop, and cleaning cloths, as well as the bucket and sprays from the storeroom. Cameron is lying on the couch reading the paper as I walk past him with everything.
“Are you sure you’re not coming, Cameron?” I ask.
It’s Saturday morning and Owen and I are getting ready for our night at Pemberley. Cameron is being a stick in the mud and doesn’t want anything to do with it.
“Nope.” He calls over his paper. “I’m relaxing. Pemberley isn’t for me.” He flicks the page in annoyance. “It is the weekend, you know.”
I smirk. “The power and water are now on at Pemberley, so that’s good.”
“Hmm.”
“Will it be scary there without Dad, Mom?” Owen asks as his little eyes flicker between us.
I shrug. “Nope, we can do this, buddy. We’re tough. We’ll see Dad late tomorrow night when we get back.”
Cameron glares at me over the top of his paper, and I turn my back to him and smirk.
I’m giving him the reverse psychology treatment all the way to Pemberley. “It will be nice for Daddy to have a night here to himself,” I say to Owen.
Big pussy. He hates being here alone.
Owen walks over to his father and takes his hand. “Can’t you come, Dad?”
“No, buddy.” Cameron sighs, clearly feeling guilty.
I smirk as I keep getting the things ready. “Owen, go and grab your sweater. We’ll have a campfire tonight. I bought marshmallows to roast on sticks.”
“Yes!” Owen cries in excitement. “Where will we get the wood?”
“I don’t know yet. We’ll find some.” Owen runs upstairs excitedly.
“Burn the house,” Cameron replies flatly.
I smile as I start to take everything outside to load it into the car. It takes me three trips to get everything in. “Okay, that’s it. Let’s go, Owen.”
“Yes.” Owen runs outside.
“Coming out to say goodbye, babe?” I ask Cameron as I walk out the front door.
He throws his paper down, drags himself off the couch, and walks out to the car.
“I can’t believe you’re actually going without me,” he murmurs.
“I can’t believe that you don’t want to come,” I reply as I throw Owen his little leather working gloves as he sits in the backseat.
“What are these?” he asks excitedly.
“Your working gloves. I got you some working boots, too, big boy.”
His eyes widen in excitement. “Awesome.”
Cameron frowns. “I don’t want him working on that house.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s exactly why we’re going, Cameron, so he can learn that just because his daddy has money doesn’t mean he gets things for free.”
Cameron looks at me, deadpan.
“I want him to be proud of what we build and renovate.” I smile softly up at Cam and he frowns. “This is like the ultimate family hobby. Something that we can achieve together.”
Cameron rolls his eyes in an over-dramatic fashion.
“And you’re in this family, Cameron.” I widen my eyes to accentuate my point.
He shakes his head. “Do you have any shovels packed?”
“What for?” I ask.
“Grave digging!” he snaps. “Give me ten minutes.”
“Your things are already in the car.” I smile broadly.
He looks at me, deadpan. “Did you just play me?”
“Like a fiddle.” I kiss him softly on the lips and he shakes his head.
“You’re a pain in my ass, Tucker.”
“But you love me, right?”
“Unfortunately.” He marches inside and ten minutes later he reappears, all showered and ready with a case of wine under his arm. “I need alcohol if I’m staying in that hell hole.”
“Already packed and in the car.” I tap my temple. “Up here for thinking...”
He raises an eyebrow and points to my sex. “And down there for dancing?” He slams Owen’s car door shut. “My only goal this weekend is to pop that airbed with your body.” He gets in and starts the car. “Get in, Tucker, before Owen and I leave you here.”
“Mom, it’s nearly time to get it started. Come look,” Owen calls in excitement.
I walk out of the barn to see my men’s afternoon handiwork, and I smile broadly. It’s dusk, and we’ve been working all day. I’ve swept and cleaned the barn. We decided to sleep out here tonight. It’s in much better condition than the house is, and we know that if it rains the roof definitely doesn’t leak. The stone wall and floor are both rock-solid. I’ve prepared our beds and sleeping bags, and I’m just finishing with the windows. “Wow.” I raise my eyebrows. “Impressive.”
Owen and Cameron built a fire pit together. They cleared a space, collected rocks, and then placed them carefully in a circle, four high. They have three folding chairs positioned around it, and the marshmallows are front and center with three long toasting sticks ready.
I throw down my window-cleaning rags and take a seat by the fire.
Cameron’s face falls as he thinks. “Do we have any matches?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Didn’t you think of that before you started building this?” I ask.
“No.” Cameron sighs as he drags his hand down his face.
Owen’s little shoulders slump in disappointment.
“Lucky I was a Girl Scout,” I tease. I go to my supplies bag and pull out a cigarette lighter I brought from home. I’ve thought of everything... I hope. I pass the lighter to Cameron and he lights the paper they have scrunched up around the kindling, and it slowly starts to take off.
“Mom, quick take a photo of me and Dad with our fire to send to Jenna,” Owen says, wide-eyed.
Cameron smiles a proud of himself smile.
I dig out my phone. “Great idea, Owie.”
Cameron puts his arm around Owen’s shoulders and they pose as I click away.
Owen then sits on his little fold-up chair and watches the fire, his legs swinging with glee as he smiles from ear to ear.
Cam watches him silently and I can see him thinking. His eyes flicker to me, and he smiles softly.
I think he just had an ‘aha’ moment as he watches how proud his son is of making a fire. He comes and takes a seat next to me on his camp chair, puts his hand on my thigh, and kisses my lips. “I do love you.”
I smile against him. “What’s not to love?”
“Give me your phone, Mom.” Owen demands. “Let me take a photo of you two.”
Cam and I smile as Owen snaps away.
We toast marshmallows and play I Spy, and we make toast with jam, too. I don’t think I’ve ever had a nicer night. Cam and I have drunk a bottle of red and I’m sitting with my legs draped over his while he and Owen play rock, paper, scissors. To be honest, this is the most relaxed that I’ve been in such a very long time. No internet, no television, no distractions. The only sound that can be heard is the sporadic crackling of the fire. I look across the paddock and up at the old house, and I wonder if Gloria is up in Heaven watching us.
I bet she’s smiling.
She told me I would find my Mr. Darcy and I did. I’m marrying him and he’s here on the very same farm, maybe at the very same place, where she sat with her Mr. Darcy.
I look back over to watch my two boys laugh freely, and I become emotional, tearing up.
For the first time in so long I feel as if everything has clicked into place.
My son, my job, my future husband, and this house… I feel like it was all meant to be, and maybe it’s the red wine talking, but at this moment I could happily live here on this farm without one cent to my name.
I have everything that I could ever want right here.
The fire’s dying down. It’s late. We’ve been sitting around it for hours. “Come on. Bedtime, mister,” Cam tells Owen.
We stand and make our way into the barn to change into our pajamas, and I close the door. Owen dives onto his airbed and Cameron stands at the end of the bed with his hands on his hips as he studies our surroundings. “Is this even fucking safe?” he whispers under his breath.
“Oh, yeah,” Owen calls out excitedly. “This bed is sick!”
I giggle as I climb onto the airbed and get into my sleeping bag while Cameron walks the perimeter of the barn with the light on his phone turned on.
“What are you doing?” I call.
“Looking for rats. I don’t particularly want my ear chewed off in the middle of the night. They’re most welcome to yours, though. You could do with some otoplasty.”
I laugh and lie back onto the bed. I glance over, and Owen is already sound asleep. He’s worn out from carrying all those rocks today. After ten minutes of investigating, Cameron slides into his sleeping bag next to me and sits up to shine his light around once more.
“Will you relax?” I sigh sleepily.
“Fucking Amityville Horror. Here we go,” he murmurs. “Who fucking knows what lives in this barn?”
“We do now,” I whisper.
He exhales deeply. “You’re lucky I love you, Bloss.” He lies down. “I wouldn’t do this shit for anyone else.”
I smile broadly with my eyes closed. “I know.”
“So, I was thinking that we just start by taking everything outside,” I announce.
Cameron frowns as he looks at me. His hands are on his hips, encased in his leather working gloves, and he has his new steel-toed boots on that I bought him in secret over the week.
Owen is playing with his trucks on the front veranda.
“What do you mean?” He frowns as he looks at all the plasterboard everywhere on the ground. “What… all this?’ He gestures to the pile of rubble.
“Yes.” I pick up a piece and carry it outside to put it out on the grass to the side of the house.
I walk back inside to see Cameron’s confused face. “What? You think that we’re going to strip this house ourselves?”
“Uh-huh.” I pick up another piece of plasterboard and disappear back outside before I come back in.
“Ashley, this job is too big for us. If you’re that set on doing this hole up, we’ll pay for someone to do it.”
“No, we won’t.” I pick up another piece and take it outside. “We’re doing everything ourselves, Cameron.”
“It’ll take years.” He frowns.
I shrug. “So? We have years, don’t we?” I pick up another piece and take it back outside, and I smile as I walk back in. He’s secretly having a panic attack over there.
“Hang on, hang on.” He puts his hands onto his hips. “So, you actually think that we can renovate this house ourselves?”
“Yes.” I roll my eyes. “Are you listening to me at all?”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “How?”
I pick up another piece of plasterboard. “Not by standing there watching, that’s for sure.” I take it outside and I smirk when I come back in.
“Well, I’m not sleeping in a damn barn, Ashley. I need a bathroom, at least,” he demands.
“You can get the bathrooms done professionally,” I concede as I pick up another piece of plasterboard. “We can sell the other house to pay for everything.”
Cameron looks at me blankly, his hands still on his hips.
“You organize the bathrooms. Find a plumber and pick the tiles and fittings, and I’ll clear the plasterboard.” I pick up yet another piece.
“You’re… You’re fucking serious?” he stammers.
I nod.
He frowns. “Well, where will I find a plumber out here?”
I look at him, deadpan. “You’re a heart surgeon, Cameron. I’m pretty sure you’re smart enough to work this shit out.” I carry out the next piece of plasterboard. “Oh, and I want a bathroom out in the barn, too, please!” I call.
“What for?”
“I’m making that a guesthouse so we can have friends stay over.”
“Fuck’s sake,” I hear him mutter under his breath, and I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile. I come back inside.
“So that’s four bathrooms I have to organize. How in the hell will I organize four bathrooms?”
It’s really hard not to burst out laughing here. “I would start by writing a list and maybe Googling bathroom renovation.”
He glares at me as I continue taking out my plasterboard.
“Well, it’s going to have to wait until after the wedding.”
“If you can’t handle organizing a few tradesmen, just leave it.” I sigh as I pick up more plasterboard. “I’ll do it.”
“I can handle it,” he snaps.
“Doesn’t look like you’re handling it.”
“And I thought the hard thing about marrying you was going to be proposing…” he mutters.
I turn to him. “No, Cam.” I put my hands on my hips. “The hardest thing for you is going to be getting me pregnant and looking after our kids.”
His eyes hold mine, and he smiles softly. “Now, there’s a plan.” He comes to me, brushes the hair back from my forehead, and kisses me softly.
“Renovating a house is easy, Cam.” I look up at him. “It’s going to be so rewarding to have done this ourselves. I know it’s going to be hard, but can you imagine when we come here with the kids? The house will be finished, and we’ll have a pool. They can have horses and motorbikes and know that we did all of this ourselves.”
He looks around the house as he holds me in his arms.
“The whole thing is just overwhelming, Ash.”
I smile. “You know what’s overwhelming, Cam?”
“What?”
“Having a baby on your own. Not knowing who his father is. Don’t talk to me about overwhelming because you have no fucking idea what it means.”
He swallows the lump in his throat and blows out a breath. “You’re a tough chick.”
I smile broadly. “I am, so start moving this damn plasterboard before I hurt you.” I smack his behind. “Now!”
It’s 5:00 p.m. when I finally take one last look around Pemberley. Cameron and I have cleared the family room and half of the downstairs today. We’re exhausted.
Owen has climbed trees and gotten into everything. The three of us are filthy dirty.
We walk down to the barn to get our things, and as Cameron loads himself up and disappears outside I stop and inhale my surroundings.
I love this stone barn. I love everything about it.
A thought crosses my mind and I go outside to look at the surrounding paddocks before I come back into the barn. It’s big enough, sitting at about thirty meters long and about fifteen meters wide, but… no, it couldn’t be possible.
Could it?
Cameron reappears through the doors.
“Cam.” I bite my bottom lip nervously. How do I say this? “I think I know where I want to get married.”
“Where, Bloss?” he mutters, distracted.
“Here. In this stone barn.”
His face falls in horror. “You can’t be serious.”