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Tag shakes his head and points over to a stand of homemade treats. “Nothing yet, but if the McGuires got to her first and wanted to take their pound of flesh, we may never know what became of her.”
I consider that while Tag buys three slabs of fudge and the woman puts it into a takeout box. When he hands her thirty dollars, she waves his offer away. “Oh, no, Mr. Quinn. It’s on the house.”
It still seems so weird that he gets recognized when we go out. Still, he never abuses his celebrity. He’s just not like that. “I insist,” he says, setting the money on the top of her display. “Today we’re simply two people out to enjoy the fair. Good fortune to you.”
“To you as well, sir,” the woman says, dropping her gaze as she accepts the money.
We make our way past the tables of local crafts, toward the chip trucks, and I’m in my glory. Food, baking, hand-crafted items, and music.
It doesn’t get any better.
“Wow, this fudge is so creamy, I feel guilty with every bite I take.”
“And yet you’re nearly through the first slab.”
He watches me pop another piece into my mouth and I make a show of sucking my fingers clean. “I said I felt guilty, not that I have any intention of stopping.”
He laughs. “True enough.”
At the next booth, I’m drawn to the plush bears being sold. They are obviously handmade and have jointed arms and necks. I point to a cute sage green one. “I’ll take that one.”
When I unzip my purse to grab my wallet, Tag presses his hand over mine. “I’ve got it, luv.”
I arch a brow. “I won’t be a kept woman, Mr. Quinn. In case you didn’t know this about me, I am an independent force capable of buying my husband a gift at the fair.”
He pulls back his hand and shrugs. “As you wish.”
I pay the man behind the table and hold out the little craft bag by the handles. “For you, my love.”
He accepts the gift and peeks into the bag, smiling. “And why did you buy me a bear?”
“I liked the color and thought we could decorate the nursery around him. Sage green would work whether we’re having a boy or a girl.”
Tag stops and stares at me. “Having? As in currently in progress?”
I giggle. “Yes, in progress. I peed on three different test kits today to be sure. You, Mr. Quinn, are going to be a daddy…or I guess a da, in your case.”
He wraps an arm around me and pulls me off the beaten path to a small park with a bench in the shade of a huge tree. “You’re sure?”
“As sure as I can be without a blood test from a doctor, but the tests confirm it.” I unzip my purse again and lift out all three tests. “FYI, I wiped them after I peed on them.”
He laughs. “As if I’d care if you didn’t.”
He stares at them for a long while and then looks up at me, emotion swirling in his gaze. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Are you happy?”
“Beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined.”
“Then that’s a great place to begin.” I take his hand and place it over my tummy. “We made a baby Quinn.”
He leans closer, pulls me into his arms, and claims my mouth. Kissing Tag is always amazing. Whether it’s a chaste brush of affection or a passionate exploration of mouth and tongue, I’m always lost to him.
When he eases back, he licks his lips and smiles. “You taste like maple fudge.”
I laugh. “No one has ever said that to me before.”
He stands and extends a hand. “If you’re done here, I’d like to take you and our baby bear home and make love to you all weekend.”
