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Tagged & Ashed(67)

By:C.M Owens


I let a laugh escape, and Trip squirms in my arms as Ash rolls over and hugs the pillow where I was. I can’t help but wonder if she thinks it’s me she’s hugging.

I hear the door to the front open, and I walk away from the bed to go meet the others as Trip finishes the last of his bottle. Silently shutting the door, I swish away from the room where we had one hell of a morning.

“Did you get a lot of work done?” Wren asks as I lower myself to the couch.

Nothing business related.

“I’ve still got some catching up to do. How was town?”

“Not bad. Where’s Ash?”

“Sleeping,” I say vaguely, my lips twitching up in a wry smile.

I love knowing I exhausted her. Sadly, I’m so sexually out of shape, I’m also exhausted now.

“Still? It’s five,” he murmurs in disbelief.

“She’s had a rough few days. Cut her some slack,” I say with a shrug.

She’s only been asleep for an hour.

Other than the occasional interruption by Trip, our day has been solely focused on getting back to good.

“Why are you smiling like that?” he laughs.

“No reason.”

Shannon walks in with Bity before Wren can interrogate me further, and then Erica comes over to pull Trip from my arms.

“You can get some work done, Ash can sleep, and Wren can get some practice, since we’re planning on having a baby sometime in the near future.”

I can’t help but delight in the way Wren’s eyes widen, seeming horrified. Apparently this is the first he’s heard about a baby.

“That sounds good. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

“You’re going to the bedroom with Ash?” Wren asks suspiciously just before I walk in.

“Yeah. It’ll be quieter in here since she’s asleep.”

He narrows his eyes, knowing damn well I’m holding out on him, but he’ll have to wait. I’m not talking to him about us until I talk to Ash about us.



***

Ashiara



My eyes flutter open to see I’m curled around Tag as he stares at his laptop I’m crowding.

“What time is it?” I mumble, and he smiles as he removes his computer and places it on the table so he can wrap me up in his arms.

“Just after eight.”

“Eight?” I gasp in shock. “Trip. Oh my gosh. I have to-”

“He’s fine. Believe me, everyone out there wants their turn to feed him, change his diaper… you get the point. You needed to rest, especially after the day we had.”

I blush as his scandalous grin comes to surface, and I kiss his chest as he pulls me even tighter to him.

“So how is it a girl with such dreadful hair became such a swan?” he teases.

“Damn you, Tag Masters,” I laugh while burying my face in his chest.

He laughs hard, and then his hand slides down my back, almost to my side as he traces the lines of—oh shit!

My body stiffens, and he laughs the second he feels my rigid terror.

“That’s right, baby. I saw it, too.”

“Shit,” I growl, jerking the sheet back over my bare body.

“I happen to find it rather endearing. I mean, after all, you really went and got tagged.”

I let a laugh escape while covering my head, and then he pulls down the sheet to force me back to his body.

“Why’d you get that, specifically?”

“Tequila made me do it.”

He laughs ferociously hard, and I smile against the vibrations of his chest.

“Seriously.”

I take a deep breath, and then I shrug. I didn't know I was pregnant when I left that wedding. A few drinks and a clouded mind will make you act crazy.

“I don’t know. I guess I thought I’d never see you again, and it was one of the best weekends I’ve ever had. I wanted to remember it. And come on, you fell in a mermaid fountain because you were staring at me. It seemed to represent the weekend pretty well.”

He snickers lightly. “That I did." His laughter tapers off, and a look of seriousness cloaks his face. "I’m curious about something. How did your birthmother pass away?”

I look up, frowning a little. “Are we playing the truth game again?”

He pulls my hand in his as his fingers trace over mine.

“No. No more games.”

I smile a little, and then I shrug.

“A car crash. She was on her way home from work, and she collided with the side of a mountain after having a seizure. She hadn’t had them in years, but she and my dad had been fighting, and it’s possible the stress provoked it. My dad blamed himself for a while, but then he moved on—just as everyone in life does. I don’t even remember her.”

I hate talking about this. I love my mom even though I don’t remember her, simply because of the way she loved me through the pictures.