by T L Swan
I walk into the master bedroom and look through the window out onto the beautiful meadows below, where I see a large, blue-stone barn out the back. “Cameron come up here. You have got to see this,” I call excitedly.
“I don’t think I want to,” he calls.
I hear him and Owen slowly make their way up the stairs, looking through the house before they come and find me in the master suite.
I smile as I stare out the window. “Look…” I point excitedly.
Cameron peers down at the barn and tries to force a smile. “The land is nice,” he murmurs. He looks around. “I think a bulldozer is the best thing for the house, though.”
I smile. “Are you kidding me? No way,” I whisper.
He frowns.
“We have to fix this house up. Bring it back to its former glory like Gloria and her husband had it.” I smile, filled with hope.
He shakes his head. “Ash, no building company would take this on. The job is too big.”
I peer through the window and grin. “No, Cam, we’re going to do everything ourselves.”
He looks at me blankly.
“Can you imagine the fun we would have? I want us to do this house up ourselves. Just me, you, and Owen.”
“That’s ridiculous.” He looks around in disgust. “I know nothing about anything like that.”
I smile and wrap my arms around him and Owen. “Oh, this is just perfect.”
He scowls as he looks around. “Ashley...” He stops himself as his eyes roam the room. “I’m sorry to say, but this house is appalling.”
“No. It’s the opposite, Cam; it’s so beautiful.” I smile as I hold my arms out wide. “Can you imagine how amazing we could make this house?”
He turns up his nose. “You have a perfect house in L.A. to call your own.”
“I don’t want a perfect house, Cam. I want one that I have to work for. One that I can bring back to life myself.”
Cameron’s eyes widen in horror. “No amount of renovating can fix this, Ash. I’m sorry. I know you were excited.”
I throw my hands in the air. “I’m thrilled.”
“With this?” He shakes his head. “Ash...” He puts Owen down and walks over to the door. When he pushes it back it falls from its hinges and drops with a loud crash, and he jumps back out of the way. “This place is so damn dangerous,” he cries.
Owen and I burst out laughing.
“You are such a snob.” I smile as I stare back out the window. “Come on, let’s go look at the barn.” I take off downstairs with them following me, and we walk out the back. About two-hundred meters from the house and across a green lush paddock sits the large, blue-stone barn. It’s locked with a big rusty padlock. “Where are the keys?” I ask.
Cameron frowns and digs them out of his pocket. He slowly begins to try all the keys, and when the last one works he slowly opens the doors.
The roof is open with big, dark, timber rafters, while the floor is stone. “Oh, this is amazing,” I gasp.
Cameron looks around the barn, deadpan. “This place is woeful.”
I laugh. “Oh, let’s go back to town, buy some camping supplies, and stay here tonight.” I smile hopefully.
“Yes!” Owen squeals.
“Let’s not,” Cameron mutters. “You couldn’t pay me enough to stay out here. God knows what could happen.” He kicks a rock that’s in front of his feet as he looks around. “This is not a fucking episode of the Amityville Horror House, you know.”
I laugh and put my hand over my mouth as I look around. He really is freaking out here.
“Dad…” Owen corrects him.
“Owen!” Cameron snaps as he loses his last inch of patience. “I am a grown man and I can swear when I want to. You are the only one not allowed to swear around here. Stop correcting me.”
Owen widens his eyes at me. “Jeez,” he whispers under his breath.
“Can we stay the night, Cam?” I smile hopefully.
“Absolutely not,” he replies as he leaves the barn and starts to walk back to the house.
“Why not?” I call.
He turns to face me and counts on his fingers. “Where do I start, Ashley? There’s no power, no running water, no bathroom. Things are falling off the hinges. This place is a death trap!”
I smile and shrug. “So?”
His eyes widen. “This is horrible. I can’t stay here, and I won’t have you two stay here, either.” He turns to walk back to the front. “This is worse than third-world.”
“Well, I’m coming back here next weekend,” I call.
“Great,” he shouts back as he opens the door to our car. “You do that while Owen and I arrange our wedding in L.A.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s not like we have nothing to do back home or anything.” He shakes his head in disgust.
“Okay.” I smile as I call after him. I look around the house once more before I lock it up and climb into the car.
Cameron looks at me blankly.
I smile at the big old house. “See you next weekend, Pemberley,” I call.
“Bye,” Owen cries.
“Good riddance,” Cameron mutters as he starts the car. “Let’s go find some coffee.”
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 exh
ale 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.
