by T L Swan
I smile. “Yes. Then the night at my house.”
“Which was last night, so that only comes to eight.”
“But we had sex four times today.”
“Are you counting?”
“Yes.” I keep counting on my fingers. “Really, I say that makes it ten dates and tonight will be worth another two.”
Her eyes hold mine. “I guess the end is near for me then.” She puts the back of her hand over her forehead to fake distress. “Oh no, what ever will I do?”
“You better watch your step and be a good girl. I might keep you around for another few dates yet.” I smirk
She grins and sips her drink.
“What about you?” I ask.
She raises her eyebrows, as though surprised by my question. “Erm, a few boyfriends in college.” She pauses as if thinking. “After I met you, I got engaged.”
My face falls. What? That shouldn’t bother me as much as it does.
“What happened?” I ask.
She sips her drink as if uncomfortable. “He wasn’t the one.”
I raise an eyebrow in question. “The one?”
“He wasn’t the man I met in Vegas, that’s for sure.”
Our eyes lock as the electricity zaps between us. “You getting sappy on me, Tucker?”
She rolls her lips. “Temporary slip up. I’ll stop drinking immediately.”
I raise my hand to the bartender. “Four more, please,” I ask and she bursts out laughing.
“Have you ever dated anyone who had children?” she asks.
I screw up my face. “Fuck no. I could think of nothing worse.”
14
Ashley
I blink, in shock, I think. “You could think of nothing worse than a child in your life?” What a stupid thing to say. Well, I wanted my answer and there it is.
We’re doomed.
“Hello, Ashley,” a voice echoes from behind me. Cameron and I turn to see Andrew, my ex fiancé standing there.
My eyes widen. “A-Andrew?” I stammer. My eyes flicker between the two men. “Hey. Erm. Andrew this is Cameron. Cameron this is Andrew,” I mutter nervously.
Cameron smiles warmly. “Hello.”
Andrew nods and shakes Cameron’s hand. “Hello.”
Are you freaking kidding me? Of all the people to see tonight, it had to be him.
“I thought you moved to LA?” he asks flatly.
Oh God. Don’t start being snarky now. “I did.”
Cameron interrupts, looking happy with a cheeky grin. “I stole her away for the weekend so she could show me her home town.”
Andrew looks between Cameron and I, while I hold my breath. Don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything.
“So… you just met this week?” Andrew sneers.
A frown crosses Cameron’s face as he sums up the situation.
“Cameron and I are old friends, Andrew. No need to be snarky. Now, if you don’t mind leaving us to it...” I turn back to my drink. I don’t need his shit tonight. Why the hell is he here?
“Yes. I do mind, actually. Why haven’t you returned my calls.”
“Listen, mate, I don’t know what your problem is…” Cameron starts.
“My problem is that my mother has cancer and she wants to see Ashley before she dies, but Ashley has gone missing and isn’t replying to any of my messages.”
My face falls in horror. “Oh, Andrew, I’m so sorry. I thought you were messaging me about us.”
“No.” He screws up his face.
“I’m taking it you are the ex?” Cameron asks.
“Ex fiancé,” Andrew snaps, annoyed.
Cameron’s eyes meet mine and I swallow the lump in my throat. “Andrew, is it alright if I come and see her tomorrow?” I ask as I turn to Andrew.
His eyes hold mine for a moment. “Tomorrow isn’t a good day.”
“When is a good day?”
He shrugs. “I’ll let you know.”
I stand and give him a hug. “Thank you, that would be great. It will be really nice to see her again.”
He holds both of my hands in his and looks at me. “You look really well, Ash.” A sad smile crosses his face.
I smile in return as my eyes flash to Cameron. He seems unimpressed with Andrew’s hands on me, but he’s keeping his mouth shut. “Thank you.” I give Andrew a peck on the cheek and with a last lingering look, he walks away through the crowd without saying goodbye to Cameron. Rude.
I sit down, rattled by what’s just happened. Marie has cancer. Fuck. She’s only young, too—maybe fifty-five at the most.
“So… he’s the ex?” Cameron smirks.
I smile as I sip my drink. “Yes.”
He rolls his lips to hide his emotions.
“And?” I smirk.
“And what?” he asks.
I raise my brows. “What’s your verdict?”
He shrugs as he sips his Scotch. “He’s not good enough for you.”
“And you are?”
He purses his lips. “Probably not.”
Our eyes lock as the chemistry swirls between us. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”
“How am I’m doing so far?”
I smile broadly as I tap my fingers on my chin. “Hmm. Rankings could be dangerous.”
He chuckles at the challenge.
“I wish I had some paper and a pen. I would do a full tally of the scores,” I add.
Cameron’s eyes dance with delight and a waitress walks past. “Excuse me, do you have a pen and a napkin we could use, please?”
“Sure.” She shuffles about in her pockets and pulls out a pencil and then grabs a napkin from a nearby table.
“Thank you.” Cameron smiles, before he then gets to work. “What are the categories?”
He starts to rule lines and I laugh.
“The categories?” I ask.
“Yes, you know. Like different categories you can judge me on. Let’s call it a performance appraisal.”
I burst out laughing and choke on my drink. “A performance appraisal?” I repeat.
Oh Lord. This man kills me.
I smile, though. I like this game. “Okay, so there’s conversation.”
He scribbles down the word conversation.
“Brain power.” I smirk.
He adds it to the list with a broad smile, he likes this game too.
“Swoon factor.”
He looks up with a frown. “Swoon factor? Is that a thing?”
I widen my eyes. “Oh my God, yes. Swoon factor is the most important one.” He cocks a sarcastic brow in question. “Well, not the most important thing,” I add.
He writes the word sex.
I narrow my eyes. “Hmm, what else?”
He frowns as he thinks.
“Romantic.” I smile.
He grimaces. “Do we have to put that one down?”
I laugh. “Yes.”
He rolls his eyes and scribbles it on the paper.
“Body,” I add.
His eyes rise to meet mine again and he licks his lips. I feel it all the way down there. I already know he’s getting a hundred out of ten for that one.
He smiles broadly and points the pen at me. “Occupation.”
He already knows he’s a ten in that category, too.
He sips his drink. “Okay, conversation…”
I bite my bottom lip. “Probably a six.”
“A six?” he gasps. “How am I only a six?”
I smirk. He’s totally not, but I have to bring him down to earth a bit.
“Fine, you’re a seven,” I concede.
He shakes his head in disgust and writes a seven next to the word conversation. “Brain power is a ten,” he tells me as he writes a ten next to the words brain power.
“You are not a ten.” I laugh.
He screws up his face. “Oh, please. Your stupid mountain and helium questions prove nothing. I’m a ten and you know it.”
I smile. He’s right, he’s probably a hundred, i
f I’m honest.
“Swoon factor?” he asks.
I frown as I think. “Hmm, I don’t know what you are in that category.”
He sips his drink. “What is swoon factor, anyway?”
“Oh, you know… like how dreamy someone is.”
“So how dreamy am I?”
I smile and lean over to cup his face in my hand. He looks at me attentively, and I stare at his dark hair with his day old growth on that square jaw, and his big beautiful eyes and lips. He’s the definition of swoon worthy, but I can’t let him know I think that. I narrow my eyes. “I would think maybe a six.”
His mouth drops open in fake horror and the waitress walks back over to collect our glasses. “Do you think I’m a six?” he asks her in disgust.
I burst out laughing and the poor girl looks between us.
He points the pen at me. “She thinks I’m only a six out of ten in the swoon factor category.”
The girl looks over at me and frowns. “You must be drunk. He’s totally a ten.”
We all burst out laughing and he gives her a tip before she walks away with our empty glasses.
He goes back to his list. “Sex?”
“Ten,” I reply without hesitation.
He raises his eyebrow in question. “I don’t think we are at a ten level yet.”
“Really?” I frown. Jeez.
He shakes his head. “Nope. I’ve had to be too gentle with you so far.”
I widen my eyes. “Hasn’t felt very gentle.”
“It has been.” His dark eyes drop to my lips and I feel the alcohol start to heat my body.
“How rough can it get?” I whisper.
“Rough.” His hand goes under the table and he slides it up my thigh, trailing beneath my dress. He slips his finger into the side of my panties, and slides it though my flesh.
My eyes close. Jesus. Public place, hot man, inebriated, and getting fingered in public. What fucking next?
“I haven’t introduced you to my kink yet.” He smiles as he slides a finger in, and I clench in appreciation.
“What would that be?” I whisper as his fingers gently probe my lips.
“Public fucking and bondage.”
He pushes another finger in and I clench. “Does this count as an initiation?” I breathe.
I start to feel my body pulse as his fingers work my flesh.
“Maybe,” he breathes, and his eyes begin to glaze over. He gets this look in his eye when he’s aroused. It’s a no turning back look—kind of like he’ll die if he doesn’t get to fuck me.
It’s hot, and damn, I’m addicted.
I want to just go over there and straddle him on the stool. His finger becomes almost violent and I close my eyes to deal with the pleasure. I glance around. Luckily, we are in a darkened corner. “This list…” I breathe.
The bartender arrives with a tray of our drinks and he slips out and sits up straight.
“Here we go. A Margarita and a Blue Label Scotch.” The bartender smiles casually.
“Thank you.” I smile in return. I glance over to see Cameron sucking his two fingers with his dark eyes firmly on me, and I nearly convulse.
Holy fuck he’s hot.
Blazing tower, inferno hot!
The bar tender leaves us alone and Cameron slowly licks his lips. “You taste good.”
I feel like I can hardly breathe with all these clothes on.
“Better than good,” he whispers.
“The list…” I whisper. It’s only early. We can’t go home to fuck yet or there will be no walking for a month.
He glances down at the list as he tries to refocus. “Romantic.” He raises a brow in question.
I screw up my face. He’s not very romantic, I do have to admit. “A three.”
He smirks and then breaks out in to a deep chuckle.
“What?” I laugh.
He shakes his head as he sips his drink. “You got me. I’m totally a three.”
I smile around my glass.
“Body?” he asks.
“One hundred.”
He smirks and raises a brow in question. “One hundred?”
“I’ve never been with a man so physically perfect.”
He raises his glass and clinks it with mine. “Let’s just hope the body counteracts the romance factor then shall we?”
I laugh and shake my head.
“Occupation?”
“Ten.” I smile. “But you already knew that.”
“I did.” He smiles. “I do have the best job in the world. I’m very grateful.”
“I never asked, but why did you become a cardiologist anyway?”
His face falls solemn. “The first patient I ever lost was because of a heart attack.”
“Oh no—”
“It was my uncle,” he interrupts.
I watch him as he struggles with the painful memory.
“I was just out of med school and we were at his house when he had a heart attack.” He frowns and I know he is right back there. “The ambulance came, but I had to use the defibrillators in the back of the ambulance to try and save him. I was the most experienced there and, looking back now, I was nowhere near prepared for it.”
I watch him. I dread the day I lose someone.
He shrugs as he sips his drink. “I couldn’t do it. He died despite my efforts.”
I reach over and take his hand in mine.
“I vowed I would learn more about hearts, and in the end I came to love everything about cardiology. It fascinates me.”
I smile softly. “Just like you fascinate me.”
He smirks and returns to his sheet, and I watch him as he tallies up the scores. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the fact that I know that as soon as I tell him my secret, this will all be over, but I’m feeling very attached and needy. I need to snap the hell out of it.
I deserve to have a nice week with him. Hell, I know its going to end and that’s okay. I hold no grudges as to how he will feel when he finds out I have a son. I already know his stance on children.
And I know it’s selfish, but I want the week.
I deserve the week. I’m going to tell him when Owen gets back. Then I will deal with it.
“So I got...” He scratches his head for a moment. “I got a score of a hundred and forty-six out of sixty.”
“How did you work that out?”
“Well, basically my body counteracted all other negative aspects out.”
I laugh. It’s true. It totally does.
A song comes on and he stands. “Let’s dance.” He takes my hand as he guides me off my stool.
“What?”
“I have to work on that swoony thing.” He leads me to the dance floor and wraps his large arms around me, and I laugh into his shoulder.
“You don’t have to work on anything, Cameron.”
He spins me hard and we nearly lose our footing. We stumble to the left sharply and run into another couple.
“Sorry,” he mouths before grimacing at me.
“What are you doing, you idiot?” I chuckle.
“Hitting these appraisal targets could be dangerous, Bloss.” He spins me again and I laugh out loud. “Hold on to your hat.”
I wake to the feel of gentle kissing of my shoulder blade from behind. I smile and turn my head as he kisses me softly.
“Good morning, Blossom,” he whispers huskily.
“Good morning, baby.” I smile as I reach behind my head to cup his face.
He pulls me closer to him and I lie in his arms. I inhale deeply in happiness. Now, this is the way to wake up to a new day. Encased in Cameron’s safe arms.
What an amazing night with an amazing man.
He’s perfect.
Every single thing about him is perfect. We laughed our way around New York City last night. He is the funniest man, maybe person, I have ever met. Witty, intelligent, sexy. I didn’t know men like him even existed and I knew I didn’t imagine it all those years ago. This is t
he ultimate male species.
“What do you want to do today?” he asks.
“Just stay in bed.” I try and swallow. My mouth is dry from all those drinks last night. “I need a drink,” I murmur groggily.
He gets up and goes to the mini bar before he turns and hands a bottle of water to me. Then he goes to the bathroom.
I nearly drink the whole bottle in one go. This is taking dehydration to a new level.
He returns with new enthusiasm. “I know what we can do today.” He smiles excitedly as he stands there, butt naked.
“You do?” I frown. Oh God, please don’t let it be jumping out of a plane or some extreme bullshit. “What’s that?”
He points at me. “We’re going to go out to breakfast and then I am taking you to the New York Library.”
“Huh?”
He widens his eyes in excitement and turns the television on. “Do you want a cup of tea?” he asks chirpily.
I watch him for a moment. He’s super energised while I feel like a complete train wreck.
“You weren’t tipping those drinks of yours into pot plants last night, were you?” I ask dryly.
He laughs and crawls over the bed on his hands and knees to pin me beneath him. “Not feeling so good today, huh?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“You shouldn’t have drunk so much,” he murmurs against my stomach as he bends to kiss me.
“It was the company I was keeping. Peer pressure.”
He bends and bites my hipbone and I squirm underneath him. “Perk up, old girl, we have a full itinerary.”
I close my eyes as a wave of nausea rolls through me. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
We walk into the library hand in hand and Cameron smiles like the cat that got the cream.
“What’s wrong with you? You’re acting creepy.” I smirk.
He winks. “I am creepy.” He walks up to the reception desk. “Hello, I want to search for some records. How do I do that?” he asks the lady.
“Just go to computer twenty-two, type into the search bar what records you are looking up, and it will search for you.”
“Thank you.” He smiles and we walk to the station where all the computers are.
“What are we doing here?” I frown as I look around at all the people reading intently as I drop into the seat next to him. “Is this part of your brain power plan?” I ask as I rub my hand up his muscular thigh. I smile. I like being able to touch him whenever I want to.
