Opal POV
Once back at Magnolia I get Chris checked in and walk with him up to his room. He unlocks the door, holding it open for me to enter before following behind me. He closes the door dropping his black duffle bag on the chair that sits closest to the door. Next he removes his suit coat as I move around the room, making sure it's in order for our guest, the job of Inn owner never quite going away no matter who the guest is.
"Babe, you're not on the clock right now," I hear him call out from the opposite side of the room. I finish my task at hand, turn down service, before turning to meet his call. I don't get the chance to turn as he comes up behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist while the other rests on my hip, holding me tight against his chest.
"Hmm..." I sigh, relaxing into his form. He sweeps my hair to one side, pushing it over my shoulder before connecting his lips to my neck, his somewhat fuller beard tickling me. I relish in the few moments, feeling his mouth against my skin, my own hand at the nape of his neck.
With the restraint of a saint, Chris stops his pursuit by blowing a raspberry on the point of my skin where my shoulder meets my neck, sending me into a fit of laughter. "You play dirty, officer," I say as I whip around to face him. He gives me a silly smile with a shrug of his shoulders.
Pulling away from me, he goes to unpack his bag, hanging up his shirts in the small closet. "So, how long do I have you?"
He stops mid coat hanger. "I thought we discussed this. Forever, love. You've got me forever."
I chuckle at his joke. "Come on! You know what I mean." I take a seat on the edge of the bed, my hand running across the red and blue plaid pattern.
Chris walks towards me, pulling his shirt up out of his suit pants along the way. "I've got til midday Monday. So, another 36 hours," he answers with a glance at the clock.
"Whatever shall we do with our time?" I tease, watching him now unbutton his dress shirt, the tie having lost its place back at Sonic.
"I don't even care, as long as it's with you." Chris peels his dress shirt off before laying it down on top of his suit coat, his white undershirt hugging his chest, leaving no space between the two. I watch him go to his bag and pull out a pair of bed pants before going into the bathroom, closing the door behind him in order to change in privacy. I'm sure he'd be fine changing in front of me, but I appreciate his willingness to accommodate my situation. "Your Pops looked good tonight. I take it treatments are going well?"
"He did, didn't he?" I ask moving further back on Chris' bed, resting against the headboard. "He's only had three treatments so far, but there haven't been any really terrible side effects so far other than fatigue."
I hear the door knob turn and watch Chris as he steps out of the bathroom looking so soft and comfortable, his Saint Christopher medal resting against his chest now, just over his t-shirt. "We seem to have a problem," he says, walking over to my side of the bed.
"What's that?"
"You're still dressed up. Why don't you get comfortable?"
I shrug my shoulders. "Because maybe if I make the trip to the carriage house I'll just collapse into bed and call it a night. I don't really want to give up any time with you if I can help it," I admit.
"Guess it's a good thing that I have something in that bag for you then," he says smugly. I raise my brow, trying to figure out what he's talking about.
He brings the black duffle to the bed before digging into it. "I'm shocked this didn't go up in flames on my way here." He tosses a small package wrapped only in tissue paper towards me.
I rip into the paper and squeal when I see the black pajama pants covered in old school Jacksonville Jaguar heads with teal tongues. "Yes! I love them!" I jump up to hug him but he stops me, holding his hand out against my shoulder keeping me at arms length.
"You are not allowed to touch me while wearing those," he starts as my face drops. "That is unless you offset the losers with the winners." He reaches once again into the bag, pulling out his Patriots hoodie.
"You're a dork, Evans," I tell him as he shoves the hoodie at me. I narrow my eyes at him before snatching it out of his hand, my turn to take a trip to the bathroom.
When I come out, in a complete mismatched mess of football teams, I find Chris flipping through channels on the television set. "Does this meet your approval?"
"Almost," he says with a smile, standing up and meeting me half way across the room. "I've got a bit of news I need to share with you."
"So you butter me up with pajama pants?" I tease.
He chuckles softly, bring his hand to mine before walking me over to the small loveseat that sits across from the television set. "You're kind of scaring me here, officer."
"What if I told you that you couldn't call me that anymore?"
I'm confused, and pretty positive that it shows on my face. "What do you mean? Are you leaving the force?"
He shakes his head from side to side. "No, quite the opposite actually."
"Laymen's terms, Chris."
"I didn't want to say anything until it was for certain, but, I took the Sergeant's test," he pauses, his eyes twinkling again. "I passed, Opal."
My hands jump to cover my mouth, attempting to quiet the shriek that escapes, well aware that there are guests trying to sleep next door. "Oh my gosh! Chris!" I wrap my arms around his neck. "That's incredible! Congratulations!"
He hugs me back just as tightly. "So, here's where the buttering up comes into play."
I pull back, kissing his lips quickly. "Whatever you need, you've got it," I assure him. "I'm so proud of you!"
"Come to Atlanta, for my ceremony I mean. My parents and Scott are going to come. It would mean everything to me for you to be there too."
"Of course!" I smile widely. "I couldn't imagine missing it."
"One more request though," he says as he leans back, getting comfortable on the couch.
"You're on a roll here, so what's one more. "Whatcha got?" I lean back against him, tucking myself in as close as I can get.
"I need you to not say Sergeant Evans any time soon."
I hold back the smirk that's trying to overtake my face, reminded of what simply calling him Officer Evans does to him. I shift on the couch so that I can see him a bit better. "Why do you say that?" I tease.
"Don't play dumb. You know exactly why I say that. I'm doing good right now, holding back when you say Officer Evans. I may jump you immediately when you call me Sergeant Evans. Can't have that can we?" He lifts his hand to tuck some hair behind my ear.
"Sorry, can't promise that," I say with a lick and bite of my lower lip.
He releases a quiet growl from deep in his throat. "What am I gonna do with you, woman?"
~~~~~
Chris POV
"Have I told you how beautiful you are today?" I ask as Opal climbs out of my car.
She pauses to think. "Nope, no, I don't think you have," she answers sarcastically, well aware that I've said it at least three times. She grabs my hand in her own before leaning up to kiss me.
I straighten out the gray beanie she put on the morning. "Thank you."
"I'd ask what y'all have been up to this morning, but by that big notebook on the table I think I can already guess," Opal says when we join Laura, Spencer, Lily and Jameson for lunch on Sunday.
I pull Opal's chair out for her before taking my own next to her. "What is that thing?" I ask, slightly horrified.
"This 'thing,'" Laura mocks, "is my wedding notebook. I've put things in here since I was in sixth grade. Now that I have real reason to have it, I thought it best to start wading through a lot of nonsense that doesn't pertain to me anymore."
The door of the restaurant opens once more with Rae and Anthony walking in. Rae comes bounding over, requesting to see the ring. "Finally, someone knows what to ask," Laura scoffs. Opal was right, Laura is gonna be a pain through this wedding planning.
All of the girls ooh and ahh over the emerald cut diamond ring. "It's beautiful," Opal says politely, although I notice a strange look cross her features.
I cock my head at her just enough for her to notice before she gives me a small grin while her eyes point down to her own left hand that rests in her lap.
That's when I notice she had slipped on her paper ring from last night. My heart skips a beat as I watch her take it off and slide it into her purse. She brings her finger up to her lips, essentially telling me to be quiet.
It's then that I realize this is our own little secret. And I'm here for it.