Sterling Shore: Tagged And Ashed Part 29

Tagged.

My laughter barrels out louder and he joins me in my chuckles while giving me a shrug.

"Yes I am," I say through my laughter.

"I'm glad you are," he murmurs sincerely, all humor gone as he stares into my eyes.

Then his lips find mine again to offer me a kiss so divinely sweet I almost get dizzy.

"Let's go home and show the others," he mutters against my lips.

I smile and stand, and the security guards reappear from their hiding spots to escort us out.

"Russell," Tag says to one of them, "Will you make sure to lock up here?"

"Yes, Sir."

Tag picks up Trip, and then he takes my hand in his before pulling it to his soft lips and placing a kiss on it.

"I've got a present for you," he says with an irresistibly s.e.xy grin.

"Oh really?" I seduce, and his eyes become alight with excitement.

"Well, that sort of present will have to wait until later. This is a present you'll be able to open in front of our child."

I blush fiercely, and he leans over to kiss me on top of my head while snickering lightly, as we make our way back out to the limo.

"You already got me a present." I hold my extravagant ring up. "I think this is more than enough."

He smiles his sweet, boyish grin, and then he shrugs.

"The ring is a symbol, not a gift. It means you're going to make me happy for the rest of our lives together."

"I think my heart just melted," I murmur with wobbly knees, and he laughs lightly while shaking his head.

"Maybe I have turned to mush after all."

He opens the door for me, letting me climb into the limo first to see a large, flat present on the far side. It's wrapped in a crisp white with a red bow dressing it.

I turn to wait for him to buckle Trip in, and he giddily takes my side as soon as he's done. I love the excitement in his eyes as he wraps his arm around my shoulders.

"I was going to give this to you the night of Trip's party, but... well, I wanted you sober and happy-not drunk and p.i.s.sed."

I blush again, and then I lean into him.

"Well, I'm very sober and incredibly happy right now."

His smile only grows, and then he nudges me to gesture for me to open the present. Taking a deep breath, I tear the corner of the paper, and then I shred the front side to reveal the single most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me.

"My mother's painting," I barely whisper as my tears start falling.

"This is just one of them. I bought them all for you. I've got them at the beach house."

"You were the buyer at the benefit? I thought it was some skinny, pale guy," I murmur in a nearly inaudible, hoa.r.s.e tone as my eyes gape at the picture I never thought I'd see again.

"That skinny, pale guy is my secretary. I told you I hired a guy."

Tag I've never felt so good about anything in all my life. The expression on her face is worth more money than I could ever have in the bank.

It's not just a painting about nature-it's her mother's brushstrokes that bring a new life to the scene. It's not the trees that bring her a piece of home-it's her mother's touch.

The tears streaming down her face as she stares in awe in the painting she thought to have lost forever makes me feel alive. For once, I'm just happy. I'm not searching for anything at all-I've found it.

"I love you," she releases in a breath, and then she gently puts the painting down before throwing her arms around my neck.

"I love you."

I have to clear my throat before I shed my own tears and lose all of my masculinity. She smiles and leans into me, as we both stare at the painting.

"Well, this is officially the best first date ever."

I laugh so hard it physically hurts. I love her humor, her spirit, and her ability to make me smile all the time.

"I'm glad. I worked really hard on this. I left with a girlfriend; I'll return with a fiancee."

She giggles a little, and I tilt my head curiously.

"What?"

"It's just... well, I was only a girlfriend for a few days. Now I'm a bride-to-be."

"I'd like for you to be a wife as soon as possible."

She pulls back, her eyes beguiled, and then she murmurs, "You really want to be married to me."

"Um, that's kind of why I bought the ring and proposed," I joke, and she smiles while blus.h.i.+ng.

"I just mean-you're nothing like you were when I met you."

"I know. That's why I love you."

Her lips attack mine as she climbs up to straddle me in her daring little dress. I grip her a.s.s and jerk her to my pulsating middle, begging to get inside her, feel her tightness.

Trip whimpers, reminding us this isn't something a kid wants to see his parents doing, and Ash and I both laugh against each other's lips.

"I fully expect to finish this later."

"Definitely," she promises as we turn down the driveway and head toward the house.

She reaches over to start unbuckling Trip just as we park in front of the house. I step out first to hold the door open for her, and she leans against me as my arm wraps around her.

Troy grabs the painting for us, and gingerly carries it inside, staying ahead of us. The door shuts behind him as my smile blooms.

Trip coos as he plays with Ash's hair, and I feel the excitement sparking as we walk through the door.

As.h.i.+ara I squeal lightly as several unexpected suctioning pops ring out and champagne corks fly to the ceiling as we walk in. I start laughing happily when I see the a.s.sembly of ready-to-celebrate friends.

"Congratulations!" they all scream in unison, excitement teeming in their tone.

"Thanks," I giggle while very dramatically flas.h.i.+ng around my dazzling ring.

"So, drink up. Trip is sleeping with us tonight so the two of you can really celebrate," Shannon chirps while pouring a gla.s.s full of champagne and handing it to me.

My eyes turn to meet the smoldering ones burning through me, and I murmur, "That sounds good," in my s.e.xiest voice.

She pulls Trip from my arms just as Tag's arms wrap around me and his lips devour mine. I throb for his touch to get stronger, and then his phone buzzes.

"Don't answer it," I almost beg.

"I have to. Security has to call me if anything is wrong."

I huff and pout, making him smile and kiss me quickly before answering.

"Yeah, Troy, what's going on?" He pauses for several seconds, and then his lips tighten, promising our moment of celebration is about to be soured. "Yeah. Send him on through."

"What's wrong?" I ask as soon as he pulls the phone down.

"The detective is here."

c.r.a.p.

He turns around just as Troy opens the door, and in walks the stern-faced detective.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late, but we've just had something come to light."

"Did you finally find Rene? She was supposed to come back from Vegas a while ago."

"Sorry, we believe someone must have tipped her off because she hasn't returned home, and she has stopped using her credit cards."

Tag tilts his head curiously.

"Then why are you here?"

"Because there has been something else come up that I need to speak with Ms. Branderwood about."

Tag's arm wraps around me very protectively. With our celebration officially halted, Tag ushers him into the living area across the way. He pulls me beside him on the couch as the detective sits across from us.

The others slowly retreat to a hiding place to give us some privacy, though I feel a little deserted.

"What's this all about, Detective?" Tag a.s.serts, his patience growing thin.

"I'll be blunt. Dyllan Mathews was discovered dead six months ago."

What?

"Dyllan?" I ask, my voice crackling from surprise.

"That's the guy..." Tag's voice trails off, avoiding saying, that's the married guy you f.u.c.ked.

"Yeah," I murmur wearily, still trying to wrap my mind around everything.

He turns back to the detective. "Why are you telling us about this now?"

"Because when we asked Ms. Branderwood about her exes, due to the stalking threat, she left out his name. This is now twice we've been left in the dark or lied to."

"She didn't tell you about me being Trip's father because she wanted to tell me first. If I don't hold it against her, you sure as h.e.l.l shouldn't. She didn't tell you about Dyllan because he's irrelevant, especially now that you know it's a female stalker, Rene Ballinger."

"Mr. Masters, maybe you should step out. I need to ask something rather personal pertaining to Dyllan Mathews's case."

"No. He's staying. He already knows everything there is to know," I quickly insert, and Tag's grip tightens on me.

The detective's lips thin to a line, and he leans forward.

"Ms. Branderwood, did you know he was dead?"

"No. I haven't heard from or spoken to him in a long time."

"Why did you leave his name off your list then?"

"At the time I was dating him, he was married. Quite frankly, the whole situation was humiliating. That was all long before the stalking started, so I didn't find it relevant. I didn't want my past mistake to hurt Tag's newest business launch, since I'm in the tabloids more than him."

Tag She feels so guilty, and I'm ready to f.u.c.king punch this son of a b.i.t.c.h right in the face for putting her on the spot. My hand tightens on her leg, and she s.h.i.+vers as she leans into me.

"Ms. Branderwood, I have to ask, are you sure you didn't see or speak to him before his death?"

"No. I have no reason to lie about it. If he had called me, I would have put him on the list of possible suspects. My child's safety overrides a public image."

She's d.a.m.n right about that. Besides, it wouldn't have ever hurt my image. I hate knowing she had something like that on her mind.

"How did you even know about her affiliation with Dyllan?" I ask, suddenly curious how that stone was turned if no one really knew.

His lips thin, and then he pulls a newspaper article from his coat to hand to us. I take it, and then I quickly skim over it.