Page 11 of His Eighth Ride

Tag closed her door and went to get behind the wheel.

“So,” she said. “You’re from Alabama.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve told you that before,” he said.

“Maybe.” She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. She’d left the majority of it down, with just a bit clipped back on either side. “I’m not sure, actually.”

“A tiny town outside of Tuscaloosa,” he said. “It’s called Logandale. Literally a speck of a town. If you blink, you drive through it.” Tag threw her a smile. “Sort of how you described Coral Canyon.”

“Oh, Coral Canyon takes at least a full minute to drive through,” she teased, and Tag laughed.

“Family?” she asked.

“The twins,” he said. “Brothers. They both live in Texas now. Workin’ a farm there.”

“Like you’re working one here.” Opal smiled again, and he wondered how she made her lips shiny and matte at the same time. He also wondered what that lipstick would taste like, and he shoved that thought away.

“Right,” he said. “Sawyer and Fletcher are twenty-five. I was six when they were born. I remember my momma bringin’ ‘em home from the hospital.”

“Oh, wow,” Opal said with a laugh. “I bet that was a shock for you. An only child for so long, and then two babies crowding your space.”

“They were loud,” Tag said with a laugh. He got them on the highway and driving away from the farm, and added, “No reservations at The Golden Coop, but I figured?—”

“You are not taking me to The Golden Coop.” Opal wore a look of delight now, and Tag needed to make her do that every day for the rest of his life. She pealed out a string of glorious laughter. “I just told Kyle and Carrie today that I was craving some of their honey chipotle chicken fingers.”

“With the ranch dressing dipping sauce.”

“My mouth is watering,” she said, her tone full of joy. She clapped her hands together. “I’m so excited.”

Tag chuckled. “Glad the chicken fingers are a win, then.”

“Chicken fingers are always a win,” she said.

“So…it wasn’t too weird with Mike, right?”

“My brother knows he’s not the boss of me,” Opal said. “He never has been.”

“I know, but I still thought it might be weird. Or with Gerty? I mean, she’s my boss.”

“Neither of them acted too weird,” Opal said, her voice pitching up a little now. Tag wasn’t entirely sure she was telling the entire truth. But he, Gerty, and Mike—and Opal—were all adults, and he figured if someone didn’t like how things went, they could say something.

It might be awkward, but it couldn’t be worse than the past few months since Opal had been kicked by a horse he’d been training.

“Tell me a random fact about you,” Opal said.

“A random fact?”

“Yeah, like, I’m double-jointed in my fingers.” She held out one hand and bent down only the top knuckle. Tag stared at her fingers for a moment, then blinked to get his attention back on the road.

“Uh, wow,” he said.

Opal giggled lightly and said, “Don’t worry. It’s not a plague or anything.”

“I’ve just never seen that,” he said.

“So, random fact.” She clearly wasn’t going to let this go.

Tag looked out his side window, but in December, even the first week, the sun set by five o’clock at the latest. No one drove this stretch of road, so he didn’t really have a whole lot stealing his attention.

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