My grin spreads wide. “I had the same feeling. I’m glad we did this today.”
“Me, too. Thanks for the invitation.”
The pleasure’s all mine.That’s what I almost say, but thank God I snap my mouth shut because that would be about the most uncool thing to say right now. My eyes go to her blouse, and I can’t help but ask the question that’s been at the forefront of my mind since reading the phrase on her skin. “The words on your tattoo. Are they yours?”
Opal shakes her head and presses her lips together. Her smile is gone and somehow her eyes appear even bigger and brighter than before. I almost apologize for the question, but before I do, she answers. “My dad. Those were his words to my mama. Before I was born.”
She inked their love on her skin. Near her heart. So they’ll be with her always, along with the Texas flower. She’s one of kind.Amazing.I doubt she realizes how special she is. My adoration for her inner strength and perseverance only grows. I’m at a complete loss for words, so instead I reach for her hand.
Her gaze drops to the floor but she gives me a gentle squeeze.
A chime rings from somewhere nearby at the same time my cell vibrates from my back pocket. Opal draws her hand back and pulls out her phone. “It’s Trent. He made dinner reservations for seven.”
I pull out my cell and see I have the same message. My stomach grumbles at the thought of food, and I’m not surprised it’s almost four o’clock. We’ve been in the tattoo shop for most of the day, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Sharing this experience with Opal, a first for both of us, feels special and strangely profound.
“That gives us a little time to kill.” I lift my gaze to hers. “Anything else you want to get done?”
She tilts her head and scrunches her nose. “Like pierce my nipples?”
“What?” I cough out and almost choke. The thought of her topless, well, it’s enough that I forget how to breathe.
“Joking.” She rolls her eyes and chuckles. Glancing down at her phone, she taps the screen. “There’s a mall near the restaurant. Mind stopping there first? I need to expand my clothing options. Desperately.”
“Sure. I’ll get us an Uber.” I pull out my phone.
“Shouldn’t I be doing that? Assistant work.” She bumps her shoulder against mine.
“You’re off today. Besides, the tattoo parlor was my choice. Surely I can stand a few hours of clothes shopping.”
“Thank you.” Her smile is so sincere. Radiant. I want to spend the rest of the afternoon getting her to look at me like this.
I clear my throat. “For what?”
“For inviting me today. This was everything I needed.” Her smile illuminates every feature on her face and chases every worry from my mind.
She’s everything I needed, too.
* * *
A few hourslater we step into the bustling Italian restaurant to meet the guys for dinner. My arms are loaded down with the bags I insisted on carrying. Okay, so some of them are mine. Opal wasn’t the only one in need of a wardrobe ramp up.
Shopping should have been boring, or a pain in the ass, but together we laughed and tried on all sorts of clothes—most of them out of our usual style and comfort zone. An added bonus? She modeled everything, wanting my opinion. I already suspected Opal had an incredible body, but now I know for certain. And with the new tatt she wasn’t able to wear a bra. It was as if the shopping gods were shining down.
That is, until we came upon a popular lingerie store. For that she made me stay outside. She insisted she wouldn’t be able to look me in the eye ever again if I knew what her undergarments looked like. I can’t stop imagining her undergarments as it is, but her modesty adds fuel to my curiosity. It’s taken a great show of willpower to not peek inside the pink stripped bag.
I don’t know if it’s the freedom, or shopping, or the new tattoo, but there’s a confidence to her I’ve never seen before today. Even now, the way she struts inside and right up to the host stand with her shoulders back and head held high says she’s not taking shit from anyone. Of course, she’s still polite. “Excuse me. We’re meeting friends. Reservation at seven.”
“Opal?” the host asks.
“That’s me.”
“Right this way.”
The host leads us through the restaurant, past the bar to a private dining room.Nice. People might not recognize who I am, but Three Ugly Guys can’t go anywhere without making a scene. Trent, Austin, and Sean gather around a table, lifting their gazes and saying hello.
I set our shopping bags out of the way and take an empty seat. My stomach groans loudly at the promise of a big meal. I’m starving.
“What happened? What’s wrong with your face?” Austin narrows his gaze and stares.
