Dr Stanton Boxset

by T L Swan

  Joshua’s eyes flicker to Adrian. “I do know how to put golf balls in smart asses’ mouths until they choke,” he offers dryly.

  “He’d like that. I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first ball he’s had in his mouth,” I mutter, distracted.

  Adrian smirks.

  We all continue to peruse the cabinets.

  “Where should I ask her?” I think out loud.

  Adrian puts his hands up, all animated. “Something so romantic that she’ll be swept off her feet.”

  “Hmm.”

  “You can go to Kamala,” Joshua suggests.

  I cringe. “No, that’s your place.”

  Adrian looks through the glass. “Why don’t you fly her somewhere exotic?”

  I curl my lip. “I want something sentimental.” I narrow my eyes. “Something that only she will get.”

  “Eiffel Tower?” Joshua raises his eyebrows. “You two do speak French to each other all the time like total wankers.”

  I smile. “That could be cool.”

  “Oh, what about New York in the library where you showed her the newspaper advertisement.” Adrian smiles.

  “That’s a good one.”

  “Why don’t you just put an advertisement in the paper?” Joshua shrugs.

  I put my hands into my pockets as I think. New York reminds me of when she didn’t come home that night.

  New York is forever ruined for me now. I feel my stomach churn at the horrible memory.

  “Fuck this. Let’s go to the pub.” Joshua sighs.

  “We’ll do some research and come back,” Adrian adds.

  I nod. “Yeah, she might be getting a ring out of a bubble gum machine at this point. I fucking hate this shit.”

  * * *

  It’s Tuesday and I have just picked up Owen from preschool on my way home from work, and we jump into the car. “How was your day, buddy?” I smile into the rearview mirror.

  “Good,” he replies as he looks out the window and we pull out into the traffic. “Can we have McDonald’s for dinner?”

  “No,” I reply flatly. “I think we’re having pasta or something.”

  Owen screws up his face. “I’m sick of home food.”

  I smirk as I weave in and out of the traffic. “Wait till you have to cook the shit,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Will Mom be home?” he asks.

  “Aha.” I see a travel agent and I pull over. After wracking my brain for a romantic proposal all weekend, I got nothing. I thoroughly deserve my rating of three in the romance sector. “Yes, she’ll be home soon. She’s not working late tonight,” I answer.

  “Can I have a bath with crayons tonight?”

  “No. Those things are ridiculous.” Owen got bath crayons that were supposed to be great fun for his birthday, but all they did was fuck up two upstairs baths and stain the fucking carpet in the hall. “I threw those silly things in the rubbish. Do you remember the mess they made?”

  He rolls his eyes as he stares out the window. “Santa will bring me more, anyway,” he mutters under his breath.

  I smirk because he’s got a snarky little attitude, just like his mom.

  “Don’t count on it, buddy,” I say as I park the car. “I’ve got a hotline to Santa. He and I are tight.” I cross my two fingers and hold them up for him to see.

  We climb out of the car and I take his hand as we head into the travel agent’s. The door has a bell over it and it rings to let them know of our arrival.

  “Yes. Hello.” The girl smiles as she comes from the back room.

  “Hello.” I smile. Shit. I glance down at motor mouth, who’s staring intently up at us. Didn’t think this through too well, did I? “I’m looking for somewhere to go for vacation around Christmas time,” I lie.

  “Sure. Somewhere kid-friendly?” She smiles.

  Owen grins up at her and swings his arms excitedly.

  Hmm, fuck’s sake. “Yes, kid-friendly,” I confirm.

  “Well, Disneyland is always great. Have you been there?” She smiles down at Owen.

  His eyes light up and he shakes his head. “No. Oh, can we go, Dad? Can we?”

  “Hmm... I’ll just take some brochures, if that’s all right.”

  “Okay, sure, where do you want brochures for?”

  I narrow my eyes as I glance down at Owen. “Somewhere...” I pause.

  She smiles knowingly. “Did you see our globe at the front?” she asks Owen.

  “Oh.” He immediately goes over to the globe and starts to look at it intently.

  “You don’t want kid-friendly at all, do you?” she whispers.

  “Definitely not,” I whisper back.

  “What do you want?”

  “Romantic kick-ass proposal place.”

  She smiles broadly and puts her hand on her chest.

  I look at her blankly. I’m not asking you. “Any suggestions?”

  “I have heaps. Give me your email and I’ll send you a list of destinations tomorrow.”

  “Great.” I take out my wallet and am just taking out a business card when I hear a loud crash and bang, and I look up in horror. “Owen!” I call.

  He stands still, eyes wide.

  Fucking hell.

  Owen has spun the globe so hard it has come off its stand and gone flying into the window, smashing into a hundred pieces.

  His little face falls and his eyes fill with tears. “It’s okay.” I sigh. “It was just an accident.”

  He scrunches up his face and begins to cry in embarrassment.

  “I’m so sorry,” I mutter. “How much do I owe you for the globe?”

  “I’m not really sure it can be replaced.” She frowns in horror. “It was my boss’, a present from his late wife.”

  “Oh, fuck.” I sigh.

  “I know,” she whispers, wide-eyed and mortified.

  My phone rings and the name Bloss lights up my screen. “Excuse me for a moment, please.” I answer the call. “Hey, Bloss.”

  “Hi, Cam. I just got a call from a solicitor.”

  “Why?” I glance up to see the poor girl trying to pick up the pieces of the smashed globe. I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes in horror. I’m going to have to book my trip through here now.

  “They want to see me urgently and left a message on my phone,” she says.

  “What about?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. What do you think it is?”

  I shrug. “I have no idea.”

  “Do you think it has something to do with the court proceedings you lodged?”

  I shake my head. “No, babe. Text me the number and I’ll ring them and find out.”

  “Oh, could you? I’m still at work.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where are you?” She smiles.

  “I’m with Owen, breaking shit.” I sigh.

  She laughs, thinking I’m joking. This is not a drill. We are literally breaking shit over here. “See you in about an hour.”

  “Bye,” I reply.

  After paying the poor girl what she thinks the globe is worth, and promising to book a trip for her trouble, we head home and I turn the television on for Owen so I can go into my office and call the solicitor. “Hello, Lanvin Solicitors,” the receptionist answers.

  “Yes, hello.” I narrow my eyes. “I had a missed call today from you and I was wondering if you could let me know what it was concerning, please.”

  “Just a minute. What was the name?”

  I scowl because I know she probably won’t give me any information. “Ashley Tucker.”

  “Oh.” She pauses, and I can hear her keyboard clicking.

  “I’m her husband,” I reply. Well… hopefully soon-to-be.

  “Ah, yes. Here it is. We just need Mrs. Tucker to come into the office, please.”

  I frown. “Can I ask what it’s in regard to?”

  “She’s been named in a will.”

  “Whose?” I frown.

  “Gloria Newton.”

  I smil
e and close my eyes. Gloria… beautiful Gloria. I bet she left Ash her book collection.

  “That’s great. Can we come in next week sometime, please?”

  “Sure. Monday afternoon?”

  “What’s your last appointment?” I ask.

  “Five-thirty.”

  “Okay, Ashley will be in then. Thank you for your call.”

  I hang up and smile to myself. I’m glad Ashley didn’t take that call. It’s going to be a really nice surprise for her.

  * * *

  “So?” I hesitate as I watch Ash over our dinner table. “I was thinking of booking a trip for us.”

  “Yes. Disneyland,” Owen spits in excitement.

  Ash raises her eyebrows and continues to eat.

  I jump up and grab the pile of brochures from the side table and hand them to her. “What do you think?” I ask. “You can pick anywhere.”

  She looks through them and exhales. “I just don’t have time to go away, Cam. Next year we can do something.” She takes the last mouthful of food from her plate.

  “Next year?” I frown. I can’t wait a fucking year. “You’re entitled to holidays, you know.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t want to go away right now. I already live in a resort half the time.” She gestures to the house around us. “We don’t need to go away when we are very lucky where we are.”

  “Well, maybe we could do a weekend?”

  “Cam, I have exams and work and a child and preschool and a million things I have to do every day. I’m sorry. I just don’t have the time at the moment. You and Owen go away to Disneyland if you want.” She smiles. “That would be nice to spend some alone time with just the two of you.”

  She stands and kisses my cheek before she takes the plates to the sink. “Thanks, though.”

  I scowl. How the hell am I supposed to think of some romantic fucking thing when she won’t leave the house?

  My score is dropping to one.

  I look through the brochures as I wrack my brain.

  Maybe I should ask her in an elevator. At least then if she said no I can pretend it was a skit.

  She yawns. “I’m going to have a shower and then I am going to lie down on the couch and do nothing,” she announces.

  “Owen and I will wash the dishes.” I sigh, preoccupied. The poor thing is exhausted. She works way too hard. I remember being an intern, and it was hell.

  She disappears up the stairs and I flick through the brochures, scratching my head.

  “Well, she doesn’t want to go away, Owie.” I sigh.

  “She would go to Vegas.”

  My eyes glance to his in surprise. “Why would she go to Vegas?”

  “Because that’s her favorite place.”

  “Why is Vegas her favorite place?” I frown.

  “Because that’s where she met you and you gave her my seed.”

  I smile. “It is.”

  “She said that one day when she has enough money she’s going to take me there.”

  “Did she, now?”

  He smiles and then shakes his head, widening his eyes. “But I’m not giving any seeds out when I kiss girls.”

  I laugh out loud. “I should hope not, Owen Stanton. You’re four!”

  Dr Stantons Epilogue Chapter 2

  Ashley

  My heart beats fast as Cam kisses me slowly while he pulls out of my body and rolls off me, falling onto the bed beside me.

  “Hmm.” He smiles happily. “Good morning, Miss Tucker.”

  I smile sleepily. “Why don’t you wake me up like that every morning, Dr. Stanton?”

  “Ask your son,” he mutters dryly. “I’m quite sure he doesn’t want to see parent porn before pre-school.”

  I giggle.

  It’s 5:00 a.m. and we have been blessed with a childfree morning. Owen slept in his bed all night long.

  “Surgery today?” I ask.

  He rubs his eyes sleepily. “Yeah, full day.” He rolls to his side and kisses my temple as he puts his arm underneath my head. “What have you got going on today, Bloss?”

  “I’m in ER.” I sigh as I throw my leg over his.

  He curls his lip in disgust. You have to be a special kind of person to work in ER. Cam and I are not those people. I mean, it’s good in some ways. The experience is invaluable, but it’s hectic and you never know what the hell is going to happen on your shift. Drug addicts, car accidents, stab wounds, police everywhere... there’s usually something horrible going on. Nothing good ever happens in ER.

  “What time do you finish?” he asks.

  “Not until seven.” I kiss his chest. “Do you mind if we give date night a miss tonight? By the time I get home, going out will be the last thing I’m going to feel like doing.”

  He kisses my forehead. “Pizza, wine, and hot bath it is.”

  “I love you.” I smile.

  He smirks and kisses my head. “What’s not to love?”

  I sit up and I push him back to the bed to lean over him. “That’s not what you’re supposed to say back, Cameron.”

  He smiles cheekily. “If I say it too much you’ll get sick of hearing it.”

  I kiss his lips and my eyes search his. “I could never get sick of hearing you tell me you love me.”

  His eyes darken, and he suddenly flips me so that he’s on top of my once again. In one slick movement he’s managed to slide back in. “I think I’ll take my tonight sex now, thanks.” He bites my neck. “Tonight’s looking sketchy.”

  I laugh as he flexes his dick inside me.

  The door handle turns.

  “Fucking leg alarm,” Cameron whispers.

  I giggle.

  “Every time someone in this house is trying to get a fucking leg over, an alarm goes off and he appears from nowhere,” he growls into my ear.

  “Dad?” Owen calls. “The door’s locked.”

  “Fuck it,” Cameron whispers as he rolls off me.

  I giggle and throw my nightgown on and open the door. “Good morning, my Owie.”

  He frowns with his hands on his hips. “Why was the door locked?”

  “I’m not sure. I probably locked it by accident,” I murmur as I go into the bathroom and turn the shower on.

  Owen goes over to the bed. “Let me in.”

  Cameron pats the top of the bed. “Lie on top of the blankets, buddy. It’s too hot underneath.”

  I smile as I hold my hand under the water. Little does he know his dad’s a sticky, hot mess under those blankets.

  Owen lies on top of the blankets and cuddles his father for a moment.

  “Why don’t you go and put your shows on, Owie?” I call. Cam needs to start getting ready.

  “Yes, okay,” Owen calls back before he jumps off the bed and runs downstairs.

  I look around. Damn it. There are no towels in here. I walk down the hall to the linen press and when I return Cam is in my shower. I smirk at him and put my hand on my hip.

  He likes the water cold.

  I like the water hot.

  Showers together when sex isn’t included involve a lot of tap temperature changing by the both of us.

  “You can have first shower,” I mutter dryly.

  He winks sexily. “Thanks, Bloss.” He grabs the soap and starts to wash himself. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  “You have three minutes,” I call. I return to the bedroom, make the bed, and open the blinds. A minute later, Cam appears with my white towel wrapped around his waist. His broad chest and the six-pack bring a smile to my face.

  I am one lucky bitch to get to wake up to this guy every day. I get another towel from the linen press and hop into the shower.

  Cam is shaving, and I watch him intently as I stand beneath the water.

  He looks like a movie star in his white fluffy towel wrapped around him. He slowly slides the razor down his cheek as he concentrates. No matter how many times I watch him do this, it still fascinates me every time.

  “So, I have a thing in Vegas in
a few weeks,” he says.

  I pour shampoo into my hand. “Oh, okay.”

  “I thought you might want to come with me,” he suggests casually as he glides the razor over his skin.

  “When is it?” I ask.

  He rinses his razor under the hot water. “I’m not sure. Couple of weeks? Over a weekend, I think.”

  I scrunch up my face at the thought of all the hassle of going somewhere, packing, socializing, unpacking… Ugh. Honestly, just getting through working full time and being a mom is exhausting enough. “No, that’s okay, babe. You go and have fun. Owen and I will stay home.”

  His gaze switches to me as his razor glides down his face and he stops mid-air. “Well, no. I want you to come.”

  I scrub the shampoo around my head. “I’m not coming, Cam. How long are you going for?”

  He rinses the razor under the water again. “Well, I won’t be going if you two don’t come,” he snaps, annoyed.

  “Stop being a baby.” I rinse my hair. “You don’t need me to hold your hand.”

  “You know, most women get excited when their boyfriend tries to take them away.”

  “I am excited. I’m just too busy.” I reply.

  He rolls his eyes and continues shaving in silence. “Your job is starting to piss me off,” he mutters. “How can you be too tired to come away for a weekend? It’s ridiculous.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

  His jaw ticks in anger and he glares at me.

  “Don’t start pulling that crap, Cameron. I don’t have three secretaries and ten interns running around after me at work all day. I’m one of the fucking runners! I don’t stop from daylight till dusk. I’ll go away when I want to go away.” I get out of the shower and walk into the bedroom, wrapping the towel around my head. “Stop trying to tell me what to fucking do all the time.”

  Spoiled brat.

  He continues shaving and I get dressed in a hurry before I make my way downstairs.

  “What do you want for breakfast, Owen?” I call.

  “Fruit Loops.”

  “You are not having Fruit Loops,” I tell him firmly.

  “Why not?” he fires back.

  “Because they are not in a damn food group!” I yell. Fuck. The men in this house are infuriating today.

  “Jeez. Settle down,” he calls.

  “Don’t say that to me!” I shout. “Stop copying what your father says. You are not allowed to tell me to settle down. It’s disrespectful.”