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