by T. I. Lowe
“Seems you’ve done this a time or two.” Lincoln looked over at her as they carried the top to the shed.
“Bubba has a Jeep.”
“Kane?” He nodded his head toward the cement floor and began lowering the bulky top.
“Yep. You two have a lot in common, actually.” She brushed her hands off on the sides of her jeans and followed him back to the vehicle. “Anyway, we’ve done this very same thing many a restless night.”
“Good. At least you can make up for this gaudy hippie graffiti.” He glanced at his door before opening it and climbing in.
The fact that he had caught on to the theme of her artwork so easily had a giggle slipping out of Opal before she could contain it. She had other pressing matters to tend to at the moment, so she reined in the laughter and tried straightening her face into a serious expression. “I’ll agree to be your copilot on two conditions.”
Lincoln gripped the steering wheel and frowned. “What?”
She pulled one of the hair ties from her wrist and held it out to him. “First, you need to pull your hair back so I can see your face.”
He accepted it but asked, “What’s my hair have to do with riding back roads?”
“I want to be able to see your handsome face, if you must know.”
Lincoln turned in his seat to face her head-on, hair still hiding most of his face. “You see too much when you look at me. I don’t like it.”
His honesty sent an odd mixture of emotion rolling over her. “It’s not my fault you tell me so much with your expressions, but I promise not to share your secrets. They’ll stay just between us.”
A wariness set along his features as he hid the hair tie in his closed fist. “What’s your second condition?”
“Around these parts, it’s not considered proper dirt road cruising unless we have ice-cold bottles of cola and peanuts.”
Opal’s second condition somehow got the man to working on pulling his hair back in the hair tie at record speed. “I like the way you think sometimes, Gilbert. Where’s the closest store?”
The heaviness floated away into the night sky above, and the lighter nuance of his comment had her grinning ear to ear as she pointed over her shoulder. “Down the road, about a mile on the right. The first dirt road is only another mile past it.”
Without further discussion, Lincoln finished fixing his hair in a messy ponytail and began driving up the road to the store.
They each grabbed two bottles of cola apiece and a pack of dry roasted peanuts. As they waited to check out, someone let out a long whistle from behind them.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Opie-dopey.”
Opal cringed before turning around to face a nightmare from her past. “Opie-dopey? Really, Ray? No one has called me that since high school.” She rolled her eyes at the preppy guy who took it upon himself to taunt her any chance he got and had several other doofuses following his example.
It wasn’t easy being the politician’s daughter, and adding her free-spirited personality to that made for an easy target. Nobody called it bullying, but that’s exactly what she endured. All because she didn’t look or act in the way most decided was the norm. Never did she want to fit that definition, so she ended up paying a price for it with being constantly teased and called inappropriate names. At least he chose one of the less offensive names to recall, she mused to herself.
“Aw, come on, Opie. You know you earned your weirdo status, but I’m game to get down with the freaks. How’s about I take you out for a drink. Just no weirdo outfits.” Ray laughed like it was the funniest thing until the formidable man behind her leered over her shoulder. Lincoln’s rigid stance pressed close to her, and Ray’s taunting eyes froze as the shadow encased them both.
“Who are you?” Lincoln asked with enough grit in his voice to scare even Opal.
She was about to back away from the confrontation when a strong arm secured itself around her waist, a wall of muscle pressing firmly against her back in a united front.
“Ray Owens. I’m a friend of Opal’s from back in high school.” He reached a shaky hand out and Lincoln ignored it. After getting the hint, Ray retracted his hand and swiped it over his forehead, looking right nervous.
“Opal’s never mentioned a friend named Ray. Certainly never mentioned an idiot dumb enough to call her a ridiculous name. What are you, two?”
Ray stammered out a shaky laugh. “Come on, man. I was just joking around. I mean . . . look who we’re talking about.” His head tilted toward her with his eyes growing round.
“No way are you talking about this woman standing in front of you. She’s one of the most creative and kindest people I know. You’d be wise to take note of that and to also take note I won’t be putting up with anyone treating her with anything less than absolute respect.” Without another word, Lincoln used his hold on Opal to spin her around and place her away from the hurtfulness the guy had just pushed on her.
Opal was used to having Lincoln’s strong personality aimed against her, but it was remarkably comforting to have it used as a shield of defense for her.
Opal remained quiet while Lincoln paid for their snacks, watching him add several packs of candies to the pile but not focusing on the types. No, her focus was on how good it felt to finally have someone on her side. Sure, she had the Sand Queens and her family, but having Lincoln on her side was a completely new idea. She’d always been mindful of the fact that she was the sidekick or third wheel. This time she had a partner in crime. Someone to lean on, and not just partially.
With his arm still fixed around her waist, Lincoln walked them outside and helped her load up, going as far as reaching in and latching the seat belt for her. He fished a glass bottle of cola out of the bag, used the side of the Jeep door as an opener to pop the lid off, and handed it over.
“For what it’s worth, I truly hope my words have never cut you down like that idiot’s did just now.” He took an uneven inhale and pushed it back out before meeting her eyes. “I’m angry at myself. Not you. But I think I might have taken that out on you some since we’ve met . . .” Lincoln leaned into the open door and whispered a confession. “I moved here to find myself, but all I’ve managed to do so far is to become even more lost.”
Opal reached over and smoothed her palm down his cheek and considered his confession, knowing exactly what he needed when he leaned into her touch. It was the same thing she needed right then, too. “I think maybe we need to head down south about a mile and grow a little more lost for a while. Whaddya say?”
The remorse and anxiety ebbed away from his face and a sad smile lifted his lips. “I’d like that.”
Her eyes widened in mockery. “Finally! I found something Lincoln Cole likes!” She let out a hoot and stomped her feet.
Lincoln shook his head but kept the small smile in place. “I also like the smell of honey,” he admitted.
Opal had a feeling he meant a good deal more with the simple admission. “It’s okay if you like me, Linc. I like you too.”
Those rich-brown eyes watched her for a few moments, looking like an entire war was going on within them, until he blinked a few times before managing to share a small smile with her. He playfully flicked her hoodie onto her head and walked around to load up.
It didn’t take long before they were cruising with the country tunes cranked up. A steady twang of Florida Georgia Line, Lee Brice, Sam Hunt, and many others made up the back-road playlist of their languid night. Never did he get the Jeep over twenty miles an hour, as if he didn’t ever want the night to end. Certainly they were working on leaving the night on, as one of Hunt’s songs reminded her at one point before dawn.
As the Jeep crept down a bumpy back road, Opal sang along to a Lady Antebellum song while she funneled peanuts into her second bottle of cola. She cut off midchorus and commented, “Soda should only ever come in glass bottles. Cans and plastic are such a crime to the taste of cola, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Affirmative.” Lin
coln’s head was keeping time to the beats of the song as he held his bottle out to her. “You mind?”
“Not at all.” Opal settled her bottle between her legs and steadied his on top of her thigh to fill it with peanuts.
Once she handed it back, Lincoln surprised her by saying, “Thank you.”
“Great day, Linc,” she teased. “It’s only a few peanuts. And you’ll be grumbling come next week when you’re fishing them out from underneath this seat. I kinda lost a few a few times.”
“You’ll be the one grumbling. You’re having a GI party with this Jeep next week.”
“GI party?”
“You made the mess, inside and out, you get to clean it. Fair’s fair.”
Opal guessed that was another one of his military terms that meant cleanup duty. Shrugging it off, she asked, “Then what on earth are you thanking me for?”
Lincoln took a generous gulp and chewed a while. “I’m thanking you for this.” He pointed the bottle toward the road, where the headlights illuminated nothing but trees and dirt.
She’d normally let tease flow in such instances, but he was finally being up-front with her, and by golly she owed him the same. “I know I’m different than most folks, and most folks like to take it upon themselves to make me feel bad about that. I appreciate you sticking up for me and my kookiness tonight.”
He gave her a sidelong glance and shook his head. “You’re not kooky, so stop trying to act like you’re so special like that.” He took another swallow, chewed for a while, and then chuckled. “You reckon pretty boy back there ’bout wet his pants?” Lincoln tipped his head back and laughed at himself, and the sound of it warmed her from head to toe.
Now he was the one teasing and Opal really liked it. Before she could tease back, he grew serious and stopped the Jeep in the middle of the dirt road. His dark eyes drilling home an unyielding point even before he spoke it. “Anyone ever talk to you like that again and I won’t be as kind as I was to that guy tonight. He got off easy compared.”
Opal nodded her head and chose to sit back and enjoy the moment, because right then she realized Lincoln was more than just a friend. More than just a partner in crime. The man was becoming a part of her soul.
As Danielle Bradbery began singing “Sway” on the radio, Lincoln let off the brake and continued rolling down the rutted road. The vehicle swaying as slowly as the song’s melody had Opal’s nerves settling down. She hummed along and watched a shooting star paint a streak across the dark-purple sky.
“You just made a wish, didn’t you?” Lincoln teased, ending the punctuated pause in their conversation.
Opal smiled, keeping her eyes directed to the night sky. “You know it.”
Lincoln didn’t ask her to share her wish, and for that she was thankful. He certainly wouldn’t care for the idea of her wishing him to fill more of her nights just as he filled it then—rolling down back roads, sharing snacks and thoughts felt so right to her. She just wasn’t sure the man in the driver’s seat would agree.
They rode around until the first hints of the sunrise warmed up the sky. Lincoln pulled up to her house and appeared reluctant to leave, so they simply sat in silence and watched the sun completely rise over the ocean. Once it appeared settled into place, Opal reached into her pocket and pulled out a sand dollar she’d found while exploring the beach with the Sand Queens. She handed it over to Lincoln and said in a gentle voice. “Finding one of these intact is almost impossible anymore, but look what I found last night.” She traced her fingertip along the natural etching on top of the snowy-white shell where it rested in his palm. “I wish that wherever you end up finding yourself, you’ll remain intact. You’re one rare find, Lincoln Cole, just the way you are.”
He said nothing, so she left it at that and made her way inside. She peeked between the blinds of her bedroom and watched him sit there for the longest time, looking down at the shell in his hand. Apparently that tiny token gave him a lot to think about. Her eyes grew heavier, so without even changing, she snuggled in her bed and dozed off with sounds of country music and the newness of Lincoln’s laughter floating through her mind.
9
Ever since he returned from overseas, churches made Lincoln’s chest tight, as if it were being squeezed in a vise clamp. And weddings had always made his skin crawl, feeling like an army of ants was doing the jitterbug on each of his nerves. Both of those prickly feelings, paired with the dress shirt and tie he wore for the occasion, had his mood teetering toward all-out crankiness. Luckily, Carter let him off the hook and didn’t push him into being part of the wedding party, so he was able to perch on a pew in the back. Another good thing about the bride and groom was they weren’t into frills and such, so the ceremony was short, sweet, and to the point.
The reception, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. It was held at Carter’s brother’s restaurant and was over-the-top with a DJ, a bountiful buffet of all things seafood, and a dance floor. The high energy of the celebration was so intense the walls were practically vibrating from it.
Lincoln sat at his table in the corner of the room and took it all in while working through his third plate of food, trying to ignore the pulsating ache in his leg and the other nagging one in his chest.
“You just gonna stay in this corner all night and be antisocial?” Carter asked as he walked over with a generous slice of red velvet wedding cake. He set it beside Lincoln’s plate.
“August did it by breezing in to be your best man and then ditching you at the altar as soon as you kissed your bride.”
“Yeah, the punk forgot about another commitment in San Francisco. He needs to slow down, but you don’t have the excuse of being too busy.”
“You see I’m busy eating my weight in all these good groceries.” Lincoln sliced off a wedge of the deep-red cake and shoved it into his mouth. “Great day, that’s good stuff.” After he swallowed the bite, he added, “You haven’t figured out how to chain August down somewhere around here?”
“Oh, I have a plan.” Carter rubbed his palms together. “He made a promise to me years ago, and I’m about to collect on it.”
“That all you gonna tell me?”
“For now. I have more pressing matters that require my attention at the moment. Like, say, hurrying this shindig along so I can take off with my bride for our honeymoon.” Carter waggled his eyebrows, eliciting a chuckle from Lincoln.
“Congratulations, man. You did good.” He tipped his head in the direction of Dominica, dancing with her father.
Carter looked over at his bride, beaming with pride. “I know, right?” He shook his head and kept staring with a hand resting over his heart. “That woman is all I see.”
“I can see that.” Lincoln snorted and took another bite of cake, knowing he would be going for seconds on that as well. “For the two of you to be so creative, I’m right disappointed in this color scheme you got going on.” He waved his fork around at the similar decor that the church was dressed in earlier. “Black and white with some red here and there. Seriously?”
“It’s charcoal and frost with accents of crimson, I’ll have you know.” Carter quirked a dark eyebrow at Lincoln, as if the names of the colors were truly significant and unique.
“Same difference. At least August’s blue hair added some flair at the ceremony.” Lincoln smirked at his friend before popping a few shrimp into his mouth, choosing to go back and forth between the savory and sweet fare situated before him. “How long are you gonna hole up in the mountains?”
“Just a week so we can be back in time to settle in our home before Christmas.”
Lincoln gave Dominica a cursory glance. Her warm skin tone stood out against the white lace gown. She reminded him of summer. “I figured you’d take that tropical beauty to an island somewhere.”
Carter smoothed his lapels and straightened the crimson rose pinned to the left side of his jacket. “Dominica has to stay out of the sun, plus she needs rest, and traveling too far tends t
o drain her.”
Lincoln set his fork down, irritated at himself for forgetting so easily about Dominica’s recent diagnosis of lupus. Carter had filled him in about it one night over burgers, explaining all the complications. The list was extensive and dismal. He figured he could either apologize for being insensitive or try playing it off. He went with what he thought Carter would appreciate more. “You ain’t got me fooled. You taking your woman somewhere covered in snow so she’ll have no choice but to stay wrapped in your arms for an entire week.”
“You caught me.” Carter raised his palms briefly before growing serious again. “You better still be here helping Opal out when I get back, you hear me?” He swiped a few hush puppies from the bowl Lincoln was hoarding and began munching on them.
“I reckon I’ll stick around, so long as the creek don’t rise.” Lincoln grabbed his glass of red punch and took a long sip.
“Good. Now, I’m gonna mosey on over yonder and cut a rug with my ole lady.” Carter tipped an invisible hat in Lincoln’s direction with Lincoln doing the same, before sauntering away.
Lincoln chuckled to himself and went back to chowing down on cake and seafood. If ever someone could pull him out of his shell and lighten the heaviness, it was definitely Carter Bradford. Well, a certain sprite of a woman was starting to get pretty good at it too. He began to scan the crowd for that shock of golden-red hair, but before he could find her, a sour-faced brunette wearing a black dress came over and flopped in the chair beside him.
“Ugh. These shoes are killing me.” Sophia bent down and began working the clasp free on one of her strappy red heels.
Lincoln shoved another bite of cake into his mouth and chewed while watching Sophia chunk the shoes underneath the table before sinking deeper into the chair. She looked more exhausted than the wedding shindig warranted, but he made no comment on that.
“You don’t hang around Shy Spice and Silly Spice all that much,” he spoke, surprising them both.
