Time and Time Again (Maybe #2.5)(7)

I think it over. “A movie sounds good.”

Even though I will probably fall asleep during it.

We finish up in the kitchen and move to the lounge room. Tag sits on the right side of the couch, one hand bent, resting on his bald head.

“Why do you shave your head?” I blurt out, curious.

He looks down at me, amusement written all over his expression. “You don’t think it’s hot?”

That was beside the point.

“It suits you,” I admit. “I like the goatee too.”

His shoulder shake as he laughs. “Glad you approve, Clara. I did a couple years in the army, and it kind of stuck.”

My eyes widen. “Really?”

He nods, looking back to the TV. “Really.”

My phone rings, and I know from the ring tone that it’s my mother.

“You going to answer that?” he asks.

I shake my head from side to side. “No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s my mother, and I don’t want to talk to her.”

He stays silent for a few moments. “You could always tell me, you know. I’m a good listener.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I murmur, snuggling up against the couch.

*****

I must have fallen asleep because I wake up in Tag’s arms.

“Shhh,” he whispers, laying me down on the bed. “Goodnight, Clara.”

“Night Tag,” I mumble, keeping my gaze on him as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

Just who is Tag?

To me, he is perfect.

*****

Isabella is adorable.

“You’re pretty,” she says, sounding like she approves. “Can I do something cool to your hair?”

I turn around and smile at her as she sits in her car seat in the back of Tag’s car. “Sure you can.”

“Daddy! See! Did you hear?” she calls out excitedly.

“I heard, Princess,” Tag replies, turning his head to me and smiling. “She will hold you to that.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

I’d waited in the car while he went in and got his daughter. He’d come out with her; no glimpse of Isabella’s mother, Kaley, though.

We pull into the school car park, and I wait in the car while Tag drops Bella off at her classroom.

“Bye Clara!” she calls out, waving as she walks away from the car.

Too damn cute!

Tag slides back in about ten minutes later.

“Sorry,” he says. “She wanted to show me her work.”

“No problem. You don’t need to explain. She’s a great kid.”

He starts the engine and puts on his seat belt. “She is that.”

“I guess you’re going to take credit for that?” I ask, smirking.

He turns to me and chuckles. “I take credit for fifty percent of it. Minimum.”

My lip twitches. “Do you get on with her mum?”

I was prying, I knew it, but I was curious.

Tag sighs softly. “We get on as well as exes can get on, I suppose. We’re amiable for Bella’s sake, you know? It’s about her now, not us.”

Yep, he is a great dad.

We arrive at Knox’s Tavern and walk in together. I don’t miss the curious look Summer gives me, but I choose to ignore it. Tag heads into the back with Ryan while I put an apron on and start taking orders at tables. Summer lasts an hour before she questions me.

“I know I’m being nosey, so feel free to tell me to shut up, but are you and Tag dating?” she asks in a low voice, looking around as if to make sure no one can see us.

I shake my head. “No. We’re just friends.”

“He got you this job, right?”

“Yes,” I say slowly, wondering where she is going with this.

“Apparently, he said you were a friend of his, but then you told Ryan you’d only met him once or twice…”

“I had.”

Summer narrows her eyes. “Have you slept with him?”

My eyes widen, and my cheeks flame. “No! I haven’t. And I’m your employee I can’t believe you just asked me that.”

Summer grins, shrugging. “We’re all friends here. We aren’t cracking any whips.”

“This is awkward.”

“It isn’t. Tag sleeps with everyone. If he hasn’t slept with you… Hmmm. I think he likes you.”

“Likes me?”

“Yeah. Like… likes you, likes you.”

Right, because that cleared that right up.

“Summer?”

“Yes,” she replies, leaning closer like I was going to tell her something juicy.

“I’m going to go back to work now.”

She sighs, disappointed. “Oh alright.”

I hide my grin as I walk away.





“Tag!” I yell from the bathroom, where I’m currently standing on top of the closed toilet seat. “Tag!”

The door suddenly opens. “What? What is it? Are you okay?”

He glances around the room, body alert, as if looking for an intruder.

“There’s a cockroach,” I tell him. “Can you please kill it?”