Page 62 of His Eighth Ride

Opal had already stepped into her slip, and when Gerty arrived, she picked up the black dress with shiny, sparkling sequins she’d found for this date. She’d paid an astronomical amount to have it shipped here in only two days, and she’d been extremely lucky and blessed that the dress fit well enough to avoid alterations.

“My goodness,” Gerty said. “Where are you guys going?”

“I don’t know,” Opal said. “Tag wouldn’t say. He only said I had to wear a dress.”

“I have never seen a dress like this before.” Gerty barely wore dresses to church, so that didn’t surprise Opal at all.

“It’s an Anna Thom,” Opal said. “They only make one of each dress.”

“What?” Gerty’s fingers stilled as Opal pulled the thick strap up and over her left shoulder. The dress possessed a certain weight that made Opal feel luxurious and powerful at the same time.

“You order it and send in your measurements,” she said, meeting her cousin’s eye in the mirror. “They make it and ship it. They only sell each dress once.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but how much does this cost?”

Opal put on her other strap and settled the dress over her chest, tugging it this way and then that to get it in place. She’d use body tape to make sure it didn’t gape in the wrong way during her date, but since she’d sent in her measurements, the dress fit remarkably well.

“A lot,” Opal said. “And I paid extra to get it here in time.”

“You and your brother,” Gerty said as she started to zip her into the dress. “It’s like you don’t even understand regular people.”

Opal drew in a sharp breath. “I understand regular people.”

Gerty finished with the zipper and stood behind Opal. She had four or five inches on her, and she hugged her from behind. “Sometimes,” she said. “But no one I’ve ever known would be able to buy a dress they only make one of.”

Opal supposed that was true. “I don’t do this all the time,” she said, suddenly feeling small.

“I didn’t mean to criticize you,” Gerty said.

Opal leaned her head back against her best friend’s shoulder. “I know. It’s silly when I think about it.”

“Here they are,” Mike said, and Gerty moved away from Opal. “What’s—oh, I see.” He swept his gaze down to the hem—asymmetrical and ruffled fabric with feathers and fourteen-carat gold thread—and back to Opal. “You look like a million bucks.”

Opal smiled as she turned and faced him. “Not quite,” she said, throwing Gerty a knowing look. “It’s okay? It’s not too much for Valentine’s Day?”

“You’re going to Velvet,” Mike said as he passed West to Gerty. “So absolutely not. I’ve heard that place requires things like this.”

“Velvet,” Opal repeated. “Tag hadn’t said the name of it before.”

“Hunter told him about it,” Mike said. “Me too, but Gerty and I are going to enjoy our time alone here at home.”

Guilt ripped through Opal. “I’m going to be moving out really soon.”

“Opal,” Gerty said as she rolled her eyes. “It’s not you.” She left the bedroom saying, “Let’s go get dinner, Westy. Then you can go to bed early, so Mommy and Daddy can have a peaceful evening.”

Opal met her older brother’s eyes. “You’re not a problem,” Mike said. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Now that Mister Hanks is back,” she said. “The paperwork went through, and I’m waiting on plans for the house. I just have to pick those, and Jeremy said they’d start as soon as that happens, since I’ve already funded.”

Mike nodded, his smile kind and calm. “Are you excited?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Okay,” he said. “Then focus on tonight. This is a big deal for you—Valentine’s Day.”

Opal’s pulse rippled through her veins. “I’m not as much of a holiday fiend as I used to be.”

“No?” Mike grinned at her. “It’s okay if they’re important to you.”

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