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.”
I make his oatmeal and sit at the table with him and my cup of coffee. Five minutes later Dr. Stanton arrives down the stairs.
And I don’t call him Dr. Stanton lightly, because as soon as he puts on that McDreamy suit the whole dynamic changes between us.
I’m instantly putty in his hand.
He walks past me, places his hand on my shoulder as a silent apology and I find myself smirking into my coffee.
“I hate oatmeal.” Owen sighs.
“Owen. I don’t know where this attitude is coming from about junk food, but the way you’re going you’re never getting it again.”
He widens his eyes into his bowl and Cameron drops his head to hide his smile.
“But…” he begins.
“Owen. Don’t talk back to your mother, just eat your breakfast now,” Cameron cuts him off.
Owen drops his head and eats in silence.
Cameron makes his coffee and his morning protein shake then kisses my forehead. “I’ve got to run. See you tonight, Bloss.”
“Bye, babe.” I sigh as I blow out a breath. I grab his hand and pull him back to kiss him softly on the lips. He smirks and raises his eyebrow at my fiery behaviour this morning.
He kisses Owen. “See you tonight, buddy.”
“Bye, Dad.” Owen smiles up at him, and before I know it he’s out the door. I hear his sporty Aston Martin take off down the driveway and the sound of the automatic gates open. I remember a time when I was just his intern and how exotic his two-hundred-thousand-dollar car seemed. Now that I know it’s just a compact, flashy little thing that’s really, really hard to have sex in, I’m totally unimpressed.
“Did you get out of the wrong side of the bed today, Momma?” Owen asks innocently.
I smirk and try to tame his wild hair with my fingers. “Maybe.”
I stare at the angiogram report in front of me. It makes no sense. I’m in a cubicle with a man in his early thirties who has been brought into ER with a suspected heart attack.
He’s scared, and he has every right to be.
His heart is not doing anything near what it’s supposed to be doing.
“Peter, is it?” I smile sympathetically.
He nods way too fast, as if panicked, and he’s having trouble catching his breath.
“It’s okay. Calm down.” I smile. “You’re in safe hands now.”
I read through the blood samples and go over the chest x-rays. I then go back over the electrocardiogram and the angiogram.
His results are not making any sense and I have no idea what’s going on here. I need to call a specialist down.
“Peter, I’m going to call for