Page 10 of His Eighth Ride

Something his momma had once said popped into his head, and Tag reached for a pale green button-up that had white stripes across the top half. He put it on without thinking too hard about it, buttoned it up, and moved over a pace to stand in front of the mirror.

“You’ve always looked good in green,” he said aloud, repeating what his mother had told him when he’d gone on a date in high school. He had to hope that now, sixteen years later, she hadn’t been lying to him.

He left his bedroom, grabbed his keys and wallet, and stopped only in the living room to give his corgi a good scrub. “You’re good, huh?” he asked the dog. He rolled onto his back, his little paws sticking up into the air, the cute white boots what had earned him his name.

Boots made Tag so happy, and he straightened as he said, “I’ll be back later, buddy. Wish me luck.” He left the cabin then and hurried to his truck parked out front. He had ten minutes before he needed to pick up Opal, and that would mean his vehicle would be nice and toasty for her.

She’d once told him that she used to hate it when her dates in high school would come in freezing cold trucks, and she’d have to sit on their icy seats in her dresses. He had no idea if she’d be wearing a dress tonight, but Tag wasn’t about to let her be cold. Not on his watch.

Oh, no. He had plans at one of her favorite places to eat, and because The Golden Coop would be busy and loud, he’d then called and got them tickets to the botanical exhibit at the Royal Chinese Gardens.

Indoors, heated, with a special Imperial Winter Christmas exhibit. If that didn’t scream Opal’s name, then Tag didn’t know her at all.

“Dear Lord,” he prayed as he sat in the cold truck as it warmed. “Bless us to have clear roads tonight. Good luck at the restaurant. An easy time at the botanical gardens.” He took a breath and tried to relax. “I just want this to be fun for her.”

He wanted to hold her hand and maybe kiss her goodnight. He wanted to laugh with her and talk with her. He wanted a lot more than just fun for her—he wanted this to be fun for him too. And the start of something good.

But “fun for her” would lead to a second date, and Tag really wanted one of those too.

With only three minutes to spare, he finally pulled out of his driveway and headed for the farmhouse. Opal had texted that afternoon that she could meet him at his cabin for their date, but Tag had flat-out refused.

Yeah, it might be slightly awkward for him to walk up to his best friend’s door and ring the bell—a place he normally just entered after knocking once or twice. And to have Mike look at him differently.

But Opal lived there, and Tag wanted to be a proper Southern gentleman. So he pulled up to the farmhouse, a place he’d loved the moment he’d done so the first time. That interview with Mike and Gerty had gone so well, and he’d been so hopeful. Then, when he’d gotten the job here, he’d never been happier.

He drew a deep breath and got out of the truck while leaving it running. A few steps up to the porch, a few more to the door. He knocked and fell back a step, his heartbeat pounding the same way his knuckles just had.

He expected Opal to open the door, but Gerty did, with West on her hip. The little boy almost always had a smile and a chubby-cheeked giggle for anyone and everyone he met, but tonight, fat tears clung to his eyelashes and he hiccupped as if he’d been crying a lot.

“Hey, Tag,” Gerty said easily. “C’mon in.” She stepped back as the scent of dinner filtered outside. “Opal just ran down the hall to grab something.”

Tag nodded at her and entered the house. Mike looked over from where he stood in the kitchen, and he grinned as he abandoned his chores. “Wow, cowboy, look at you.”

“It’s the same thing I wear all the time,” Tag said, though he smiled too. He’d pulled a leather jacket over his shirt, and he tucked his hands in the pockets to keep it closed over his “fancy” shirt.

“Nice belt buckle.” Mike came closer and shook his hand.

“It’s my granddaddy’s,” Tag said. “I only wear it on special occasions.”

“The jacket?” Opal said from behind him. He spun, and the most gorgeous woman in the world glided toward him. She’d somehow gotten the memo that they were getting chicken fingers for dinner, and she’d left the dresses in her closet.

She wore instead a pair of deep purple pants with wide legs that flowed around her like luxurious water. Her blouse had to have come with the pants, as they bore the same color purple, with navy blue, and the two colors made abstract watercolor flowers on a white background.

He could see through the blouse to a white tank top with tiny, spaghetti straps, and Tag’s mouth went dry at the sight of her skin, even through fabric.

“I’ve seen the jacket before.” Opal came right into his personal space as if her brother and sister-in-law weren’t even there. She reached up and touched the lapel, her smile painted in dark red a memory he would not soon forget.

“I was talking about the belt buckle,” he said.

Opal’s gaze dropped to it, which felt a little awkward.

“It’s a family crest,” he said. “My family comes from horses in Alabama.”

Opal smiled and looked back at him. “I see that. It’s very nice, and no, I haven’t seen it before.” She looked over to her brother. “I’ll be back later.” She swept a kiss across his cheek and then moved over to Gerty and West. “You be a good boy for your mama now.” She kissed the baby too, nodded at Gerty, and faced Tag again. “He’s not happy I’m leaving tonight.” A faint smile came to her mouth again. “I hold him while he sleeps, and his mama just puts him in his crib.”

“I can see why he prefers you,” Tag said with a smile. He took her coat from her after she’d picked it up from the back of the couch and helped her into it. Then he led her to the door and right out of it without looking back. For some reason, he didn’t know what to say on the way to the truck, but when he opened her door for her, a flood of heat came out.

“Nice and warm,” she said.

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