by T. I. Lowe
“Spice?” Sophia scoffed. “That’s so unoriginal and beyond cheesy.” She pulled a compact out of the glittery bag hanging from her wrist and checked her face.
Even though she acted tired, the woman’s hair and makeup were immaculate, so he didn’t see any reason for her to be dabbing powder along her nose. Instead of pointing that out, he chose to question instead. “And ‘Sand Queens’ isn’t cheesy in the least?” He gave her a bored look and finished off the cake in one giant bite, hoping his impolite manners would have her scampering away.
“Touché,” Sophia conceded, kicking her feet up in the vacant seat beside her.
Seemed she was going to stay awhile, so Lincoln began gathering his plates to try for a getaway. Before he could, she started up a conversation.
“So . . . what spice am I?”
Sighing, Lincoln set the plates down and leaned back in his seat with his eyes focused on where most of the guests were having the time of their lives on the dance floor. He thought of a few words that fit the bill but weren’t all that nice, so he said “Sour Spice” instead, and it earned him that sour look the woman liked to wear.
“Why sour?” She glowered, looking right intimidating for such a petite debutante, as she slicked some lip gunk on her pouting lips.
“You walk around looking like you’re sucking on lemons. Seriously, aren’t you happy for the newlyweds?”
The flinch was so subtle it should have gone undetected, but Opal wasn’t the only one good at reading body language. Lincoln saw it and almost felt bad for being the one to produce it.
“I don’t mean to be like this,” she whispered, slumping down even more while putting the compact and lip gloss away. “Life has worn me slap out lately.”
Lincoln studied her out of the corner of his eye. She was too spunky to be so defeated. He nudged her arm with his. “I was just messin’ with ya. The first time we met, you pinched the fire out of me. Seems only fair I get to tease you a bit, but there’s nothing sour about you. Please don’t take what I said to heart.” When she remained quiet with her eyes cast down, he was compelled to add, “You’re actually Sassy Spice, and I think sass is a respectable quality to have.”
Sophia gave him a dubious look but followed it with a small smile. “I’ve been called that a time or two.”
“Back to my original point, you don’t hang out with the girls much. Why’s that?” Lincoln saw Josie about as much as he saw Opal, but not the woman sitting beside him.
“I don’t live around here anymore, but Collin and I visit at least once or twice a month, so you’ve been warned more sass will be here near Christmas.”
“Collin was the other ring bearer who helped Carter’s little nephew carry that sign down the aisle today?” He recalled the sign saying something about it being too late to take a ride because here comes your bride, and Zachary practically dragging the toddler down the aisle.
“Yes. He’s only sixteen months old, but he thinks he can keep up with the big kids already.”
Lincoln checked out the fat diamond ring that looked like it was weighing her tiny hand down. “Is your husband here?”
Sophia squirmed a bit and shook her head. “Ty is a pro ball player. With . . . with playoffs coming up, it . . . it was impossible for him to make it.”
The stuttering coming from beside him had Lincoln fully turning to look at her. Gone was the confident, feisty woman he was just bickering with and in her place was a flustered mess. He thought over what she’d just shared, causing a lightbulb to start flickering. “Ty Prescott is your husband?”
Her posture grew rigid. “You know him?”
“I watch football, so yeah.”
“Oh . . . that’s . . . umm . . . nice.”
Lincoln felt like a fish out of water with this woman, and instead of coming up for air with this conversation, he was getting deeper and closer to suffocating. Then the lightbulb came on completely and had him cringing. He recalled a few headlines that had recently been circulating around the sports world about Ty Prescott, and they weren’t high accolades on his rushing yards. No, they were gossipy stories pertaining to the famous running back’s personal life. Partying and womanizing—two things that shouldn’t be attached to a married man with a child.
The subject needed to be changed and in a hurry. Tugging on his suddenly too-tight collar, Lincoln asked, “Why was Josie a no-show tonight?”
Sophia huffed a little laugh. “When August is in town, she ghosts on us.”
“Why?”
“Because Josie is hopelessly in love with him. Has been since high school.”
Lincoln almost swallowed a mouthful of punch wrong, wondering why this was the first he’d heard of it. “Then why is she avoiding him?”
Sophia shifted in her seat. “Shoot. I probably shouldn’t have told you . . .” She sighed. “Josie believes it’s best to avoid him if she can’t have him.”
Looking back, Lincoln should have caught on to how squeamish Josie acted each time he or Opal brought August up. He almost asked Sophia why Josie didn’t think she could have him but figured it was because the guy couldn’t get still somewhere. Josie seemed pretty rooted to Sunset Cove and certainly wouldn’t be one to chase after a man. He’d noticed her scampering around the little town doing for others all the time like it was her mission.
Lincoln caught sight of Zachary zooming by with several balloons tied around his torso, but no tiny suit followed behind him. “Where’s your little guy?”
“My parents took Collin home. Poor baby was wiped out.”
“Can’t believe he and Zachary near about knocked the wedding cake over.” Thinking about it had a smile blooming across his face.
“Oh, wow! Put that thing away,” Sophia protested as a hand shot up to shield her eyes.
He wanted to laugh at her silliness and sigh in relief that her sass had returned to lighten the mood, but with effort, he schooled his features into a scowl. “Better?”
Sophia peeked from the side of her hand. “Much. Thank you.” She snickered, making Lincoln’s lip twitch.
“Looked like Collin had himself a large time tonight. That was nice of your parents.”
“Yes, but what’s even nicer than that is you taking up for Opal the other night. That Ray Owens needs a fist to his face. He better not cross my path anytime soon.” Sophia crossed her arms, looking ready to go to battle for her friend.
“Opal told you about that?” It still steamed him that anyone would be so cruel to such an amazing woman. She’d mentioned that was the norm of her youth. Between being a little eccentric and being the wealthy senator’s daughter, kids had plenty of material to work with. Lincoln told her it was just jealousy, but the small smile she gave him made it clear she didn’t buy it. He then told her, if he could rewind time, he would have been her bodyguard and beat them all up for her. That earned him a genuine smile and a kiss on his quickly heated cheek.
Lincoln rubbed his palm over his bearded cheek, remembering how good it had felt, as Sophia’s words faded to the background. Shaking off the enchantment of Opal Gilbert, he mumbled, “Huh?”
“I said, of course Opal told me. She told more than just about Ray, too. Just so you know, the Sand Queens don’t really keep secrets from one another.”
Lincoln muttered an oath under his breath and set his sights on a search for the little yapper. He found her by the punch bowl, talking animatedly with an elderly couple. Each time he looked at her—more often than he should—a mixed feeling of peace and yearning washed over him. It felt good but uncomfortable and he had a suspicion that she liked keeping him tied in knots.
“Here’s one of our secrets I’ll share with you.” Sophia tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. Once he pulled his eyes away from Opal and focused on her, she continued, “Opal may be dressed in a ditzy flamboyant package, but that’s a mere disguise. Underneath is one wise soul who sees everything and loves it all. Good or bad.”
Lincoln’s eyes flickered back
over and found Opal staring at him. She didn’t react like most women would when being caught staring at a man—blushing and looking away. No, his little sprite threw her hand up and waved with a big smile on her pretty face that made his lips turn up in spite of him trying to tamp them down. Opal glowed with a natural beauty he’d not seen much in his lifetime. He tipped his head slightly toward his table companion without taking his eyes off of Opal when he realized Sophia was yammering on about something. “What was that?”
Sophia sighed and started again. “Here’s your warning. Opal doesn’t love with just a piece of her heart. She loves with her entire being.”
Lincoln expected her to add more, but Sophia fished her shoes from under the table and gathered her purse. “Wait. Where’s the warning in that?”
“You think about what I said long enough and you’ll figure it out.” Sophia turned her attention to the dance floor and just stood there staring for a few beats. Sighing, she mumbled, “To love and be loved like that . . .”
Lincoln followed her line of vision and found Carter and Dominica dancing. The couple appeared to be in their own universe, holding each other and stealing small kisses. They certainly wore their happiness with pride. “Like what?”
“Carter and Dominica’s love clearly includes respect, affection, and friendship,” Sophia said as she twirled the diamond ring around and around her finger, making it clear her marriage held none of those particular qualities.
They watched as Carter smoothed the back of his hand down Dominica’s rosy cheek. The man looked drunk with the love he had for his bride. Lincoln would file that away to tease his friend about at a later date.
“They’re right sickening, if you ask me,” Lincoln lied, hoping to pull Mrs. Sass back out. Instead, her eyes became glassy. She was evidently too far gone for him to rile up.
“That’s a sickening I wouldn’t mind putting up with.” She sniffled and shook her head. Moments of more sniffing passed before she whispered, “Lincoln, are you a praying man?”
Her question zinged from out of left field and knocked the wind out of him. Clearing his tightening throat, Lincoln muttered, “Not like I should be.”
Sophia picked up a folded napkin and dabbed the corners of her eyes with it. “That’s too bad.”
“You in need of prayers?” Lincoln asked before he could stop himself.
“My family is in desperate need of prayer.” Standing, Sophia offered him the saddest smile he’d ever witnessed before walking away.
Time slipped by as Lincoln sat there pondering the deep yet vague conversation he’d just had with a practical stranger, who suddenly felt more like a little sister he needed to protect than not. Foolishness showed up and sat heavily on his shoulders. For that was what he’d been lately with his faith. And here was someone requesting his prayers on their behalf and he didn’t feel like he was in a strong enough position to help them out.
Please, God, forgive me for my foolishness. He began the prayer as the vise grip around his chest tightened, but he knew he needed to put the lid firmly back on all the hurt and confusion that had gnawed at him over the last few years. If not, he’d probably be carried out of the wedding reception in a straitjacket.
After a few deep breaths and more punch to quench his dry throat, Lincoln was able to bottle it all back up for the time being. He also resolved to have a talk with Opal about what was going on with Sophia and her family.
He watched on as Carter dipped Dominica mid-dance. She giggled as he righted her and placed a kiss on her smiling lips. Lincoln wished he were brave enough to love someone that confidently, that openly.
Just as that thought flickered through his head, so did a pixie flicker up to his table.
“What are you thinking about?” Opal asked, her face high in color and feet bare.
He blinked out of his daze and let out a nervous cough. No way would he be sharing that particular wish with this particular woman.
Her eyes softened when he didn’t speak. “Aww . . . You’re happy for them, aren’t you?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Opal stood beside him and swayed back and forth. “You wanna dance?”
Lincoln raised an eyebrow at the same time he picked up his cane to drive his answer home. His leg wouldn’t be able to handle any type of dance moves. Not even the languid sway of a slow dance was possible, especially after the intense session he had with the therapist the day before.
“Oh, my friend.” Opal shook her head. “You’re too busy focusing on the obstacles and keep missing out on all the potential solutions.”
Before he could protest or grouch some type of response, Opal shoved a chair against the side of his and sat close. She leaned over like she was going to hug him, which was pretty much what she did. With her arms around his neck, Opal began to gently sway to the rhythm of the slow song playing through the speakers.
“Dance with me, Linc,” she whispered close to his ear, her breath tickling the side of his neck and sending an army of goose bumps down his spine.
Surrounded by Opal’s warmth and the scent of honey assailing him, it didn’t take much for Lincoln to agree. He stretched one arm over the back of her chair and encircled her waist with the other. It was silly for all of two seconds before he was lost in the sensation of dancing with the vibrant woman who’d pranced into his life and was turning it upside down.
Opal let out a contented sigh that had him pulling her a tad bit closer. Testing the newness of having her in his arms, Lincoln didn’t find it as bothersome as he’d expected. Even though she was a pint-size to his giant-size, the embrace was a perfect fit with him finding an abundance of comfort in her petite arms. He knew he looked like a strong tower beside her, yet inside he felt certain he was the more delicate, weaker one of the two.
With her soft cheek resting against his bearded one, Opal hummed along with Brett Young as the singer belted out his song “In Case You Didn’t Know.” Lincoln made note of it, knowing each time he heard it in the future, he’d remember this nondance with Opal in his arms and he’d recall it being the best dance of his life.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he whispered, unable to stop himself.
Lincoln sensed her laugh more so than heard it as Opal began sliding her fingers through the ends of his hair. Her affectionate gesture feeling familiar yet so new. “Glad I could pull that off for one night at least.”
“You pull it off every day, Opal.” He pulled her closer when she tried to lean away. No way did he want her searching his eyes at the moment. His words already gave away enough.
They swayed through a few more slow songs, and he secretly enjoyed every minute of having an excuse to hold her close and loathed when she finally pulled away to fetch them another glass of punch. Her warmth and ever-present fragrance of honey lingered as he watched her walk away, needing her to hurry back. And when she did just that, he couldn’t contain the smile it produced.
Later in the night, the silly woman talked Lincoln into a chair version of the Macarena. He figured he couldn’t look any dumber than the people doing the same moves on the dance floor. Opal wiggled further into his heart when she swiped them both another piece of wedding cake with a side of crab cakes.
Before he knew it, the time was close to midnight and the crowd was standing by the doors as they cheered for the departing couple. Whistles and catcalls rang out as they disappeared into the night.
What that couple had found together was a rarity, and Lincoln didn’t blame Carter one bit for wanting to celebrate it. His stomach tightened just as his chest had been doing throughout the night as he finally admitted to himself the appeal of being in love. Rubbing his chest, he left those girlie thoughts at the wedding reception. Or that’s the lie he told himself all the way home.
10
A coastal Christmas around the southern parts of Sunset Cove always looked a good bit different from, say, a Christmas up north, but late December had ushered in a heat wave and was making the traditiona
l celebrations look even more different than usual. With humid temperatures lingering close to uncomfortable, not even the ugly Christmas sweaters were taken out of the attic to wear. Or if they were, it was only for a short stint at a holiday party that was holding one of those ugly sweater contests.
Always the optimist, Opal didn’t let the tropical atmosphere put a damper on her festivities. The cheery redhead smoothed the skirt of her green-and-gold sundress, loving how the jingle bells she’d sewn along the hem jingled their sweet tune every time she moved. The red sash around her waist had a few as well.
“You look like Malibu Barbie, Christmas edition,” Kane teased, snickering at his own joke as he climbed into the passenger seat of Opal’s van.
“Why, thank you, Bubba. And you look like a college kid in serious need of doing some laundry in those holey shorts and ragged T-shirt.” She smiled with narrowed eyes before climbing in the driver’s seat. His shirt was red and the shorts an Army green. Both paired in a Christmas theme with his Santa hat, so he was one to talk. “You’ll be over teasing me once you see my gift for you.” She put the van into gear and headed away from her parents’ estate.
“You didn’t have to get me anything.” Kane twisted slightly in his seat and set down several canvas bags filled with Christmas dinner leftovers behind them. “We got enough food to last weeks.”
“That’s what I love most about Mom’s inability to cook in small portions.” Opal took a left at the end of the driveway and turned up a station playing nothing but Christmas carols. Then she bumped up the air-conditioning to combat the eighty-degree temps heating the interior of the van to stifling.
“How’s the store doing now that you’re back up and running?” Kane asked as he adjusted the vents to get more cool air flowing in his direction.
Opal glanced at him, amused with how the air vent had his coppery curls dancing along the edge of the Santa hat. “It’s been so busy, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get caught up on the custom pieces, but no complaints on that.”