The Best Blind Date in Texas

by Victoria Chancellor

  Gray reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’ll be fine.”

  “I hope so. I really want to make a future here, and I’d like the community to accept me before my hair turns as gray as my father’s.”

  Gray chuckled. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, at least not for a few dozen years.”

  “I’m pushing thirty,” Amy announced. Besides the big birthday coming up, she’d recently begun to hear her biological clock ticking. Of course, she wasn’t about to mention that tidbit to her father. He was already insisting that she find a nice man and settle down. If he started thinking about grandkids, she’d never get a moment’s peace!

  “And I’ve already seen my thirty-fourth. I suppose the difference is that I don’t feel a lot of pressure from anyone to do anything I don’t want to do.”

  “Lucky you,” Amy said with a little chuckle. “If you ever get lonely for unsolicited advice, just let me know. I’ll send my father over to harass you.”

  Gray laughed as he pulled into the parking lot of a two-story brick building with few markings on the outside. A neon beer sign lighted one window and an old-fashioned painted sign swung over the sidewalk in the light, cool breeze.

  “I know it doesn’t look like much,” he said as he shut off the engine, “but trust me. The music is great.”

  She did trust him, Amy realized as she pulled her coat tight and swung her legs out of the Lexus. She’d only known the man a few hours, yet already they’d learned they had several things in common: both were only children; both loved springtime in the Hill Country; both preferred to eat their salad with their meal instead of finishing it first. Not a bad start for a blind date.

  The interior of the club was dark and slightly smoky, but not overwhelmingly so. Gray took her hand as they weaved through small tables and chairs, most occupied by an eclectic crowd of college students, upscale patrons and serious middle-age jazz aficionados. His hand was warm and strong, and she felt her heart rate increase ever so slightly from just a simple touch.

  He found a half-circle booth of red tufted vinyl that had seen better days. All part of the ambiance, she supposed. When Gray stopped and let his hand ease away, she felt the absence of his touch more than she would have thought. After all, they weren’t really dating. He’d only touched her a few times, and very casually. Still, she wished she could have rested her hand in his for a while longer.

  “Would you like me to take your coat?” he asked.

  “Thank you.” He helped her ease it off her shoulders and arms, then folded it across the back of the booth. Again, she felt his nearness, warmth and strength.

  “What would you like to drink? The service here isn’t great, so I usually go up to the bar to order.”

  “I think a Baileys would be nice.”

  Gray nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

  Amy scooted into the booth, then debated how far to move over. If she didn’t go very far in the half circle, Gray might think she wanted him to sit very close beside her on the outside. On the other hand, if she sat near the edge, he’d be forced to sit across from her. They’d have to shout to be heard over the music. Not a good choice.

  In the end, she moved to the middle of the red vinyl bench, adjusted the hem of her icy blue dress, and put a welcoming smile on her face.

  “Two Baileys,” he announced, placing them on the table with the finesse of the best waiter. He noticed her position in the booth, smiled and eased around to the left so he sat close, but not crowded against her.

  “Thanks.”

  Gray settled back against the cushions. “From what you said earlier, I get the impression your father tends to give his advice rather freely.”

  Amy laughed. “You could say that. Don’t get me wrong—he’s a great dad. He’s just extremely opinionated and believes the world would work a whole lot better if everyone followed his orders.”

  “And I take it your orders included returning to your hometown.”

  “No,” Amy said, frowning as she remembered their conversations while she was in medical school. “He never insisted I join him at the clinic. He just had a lot of advice on how a good doctor practiced medicine.”

  “That’s good, I suppose. He has a lot of experience.”

  “Yes, but that’s not the opinion he’s been giving me for the last three years.”

  “Oh?”

  Amy blushed. She shouldn’t tell Gray this, but he was so easy to talk to, she found the words slipping out. “He wants me to find a nice man and settle down.” Amy sipped her drink, then paused. “Not that I meant anything by that remark. I mean, just because you got railroaded into taking me to this fund-raiser, I don’t want you to think…Oh, I’m not explaining this well, am I?”

  Gray chuckled. “No explanation needed. I know how parents can be. I’ve heard the same thing from mine a time or two, especially before…”

  “Before what?” Amy asked, leaning forward.

  He shrugged. “Before my marriage.”

  “Oh.” No one had mentioned he was married. Or had been married. Her father wouldn’t fix her up with a married man.

  “After the divorce, they quit pestering me.”

  “I see.” She wanted to say more, but the band chose that moment to start a new set. The deep thrumming of strings reverberated through the club, followed by the wail of a saxophone. When she looked at Gray, she saw him watching the band, but a slight frown creased his forehead.

  THE BAND TOOK A BREAK, leaving the club in sudden silence. Gray was surprised to discover he wanted to explain more about what he’d admitted—and the implications of being single. He rarely talked about the divorce, and never discussed the reasons for the breakup. Somehow, with Amy, the words seem to come naturally.

  On most blind dates, the women had done most of the talking. Perhaps because she was a doctor and accustomed to listening to her patients, Amy had a quiet, observant manner he found refreshing.

  “I didn’t mean to drop the fact I’m divorced on you like that,” he said. “It’s been four years, so I don’t think about my marital status much.”

  “If you date as much as I’ve heard, I suspect you remember that you’re single,” she said with a cheeky grin.

  “I don’t date all that much,” he defended, “and yes, I’m definitely single—and planning on staying that way.”

  “Mmm. Messy divorce?”

  “Messy marriage.”

  “Oops. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m better off now than ever. But the experience did leave me with a rather bitter taste for tying the knot again.”

  “I understand. I’m certainly not ready to rush into anything either. I’m going to have my hands full getting the clinic back to full speed as quickly as possible.”

  Gray hesitated, but Amy had left the perfect opening for him to explain something. One of his rules. He liked her, more than anyone he’d met recently, but she needed to understand how he operated so she wouldn’t be hurt.

  “Amy, I’ve really had a great time tonight, and I think you’re a wonderful person. I don’t usually say this outright, but I’m going to in this case.” He drew in a fortifying breath. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me around town, but I have an unspoken rule.”

  “About dating?”

  “Yes. You see, I never have a second date with anyone.”

  She sat up, her eyes showing surprise. “Never?”

  “Not since I moved to Ranger Springs.”

  “So that’s why you’ve dated so many different women.”

  “Whatever Thelma and Joyce arrange,” he said, taking another sip of his drink.

  “Thelma and Joyce? But I thought my father arranged this evening.”

  Gray shrugged. “Maybe he did, through my unofficial personal dating service.”

  “He’s in cahoots with those two women.”

  Gray smiled at Amy’s accusing words, softened by the love shining from her eyes and the fondness evident in her voice. Sh
e’d complained earlier about her father’s meddling, but she obviously cared for him very much. “Perhaps.”

  “I’m going to have a serious talk with the man.”

  Gray shook his head. “Not on my account. Like I said, I’ve really enjoyed this evening.” He certainly didn’t want to be the cause of any problems between Amy and her father.

  “But you want me to know there won’t be a repeat.”

  He jerked his thoughts away from Amy’s relationship with her father to the one she’d never have with him. “Yes. You see, I realized early on that if I dated any woman more than once, the gossipmongers would jump on the news. And then if I didn’t date another one but once, some perfectly nice woman would get her feelings hurt.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you,” Amy said carefully, “but doesn’t having only one date with any woman cramp your style?”

  Gray laughed. “Not really. Like I said, I’m busy with the move of my company, hiring and training employees and expanding our markets. I don’t have that much time for a social life.”

  He hadn’t had one in so long, as a matter of fact, he rarely missed the quiet, shared evenings, dinner conversations with someone well known, the feel of a woman’s warm flesh after making love. At least he told himself he didn’t miss those things. If he thought about how long he’d been abstinent—nearly two years—he might not be as cheerful.

  His last relationship, a comfortable, no-pressure affair with an equally career-minded lawyer he’d known socially for years, had ended before he’d decided to move from Dallas. He hadn’t been serious about the woman; he’d just fallen into the mutually satisfying affair after his divorce.

  Strange, but Amy’s assertions she wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship, especially one with a husband and children, echoed his own position now. He wasn’t looking for the complications a family would bring…and yet, the longer he lived in this close-knit community, the less objectionable he found the idea…in theory.

  Gray mentally shook his head. He had no business thinking along those lines. Especially not while he was out on his one date with Amy Wheatley.

  “So what do you do when Thelma and Joyce fix you up? Do you turn them down?”

  “Well, I haven’t so far, but I may have to start. They do seem to be getting a little persistent in their efforts.”

  “Poor Gray,” Amy said with a smile. “So many women, so little time.”

  A problem many men would gladly accept, he knew. And yet he found the process tedious. Boring. All those words some men applied to their permanent relationship. To married life.

  He had to stop thinking along those lines. He was still in performance mode, still giving yet another woman a perfect date.

  Gray grabbed her glass and gave his best effort at acting the role, a ferociously teasing frown. “One more remark like that and you won’t get another drink.”

  “One more outrageous revelation from you and I’m going to need another drink.” She held up her hand. “Seriously, a soft drink would be great.”

  He laughed as he left the booth, but sobered upon approaching the bar. Amy was a unique woman. He’d really enjoyed this evening, despite the fact he’d started thinking about certain taboo subjects. Despite the fact she made him want things that weren’t in his immediate future.

  Perhaps it was best that they wouldn’t be repeating the experience.

  “ONE MORE DANCE TO close out the evening?” he asked as she listened to the soulful sounds.

  One more chance to stand close to this one-date bachelor, to tempt herself with what couldn’t happen? They’d danced at the fund-raiser, but in a more structured setting and style. Here, on the minuscule dance floor, Amy had a feeling Gray would let his guard down just a little.

  One more chance to tempt herself? “Why not?”

  He led her onto the parquet floor, pulling her closer than he had at the fancy hotel. One hand closed warmly over hers, while the other slid down her back to rest low on her waist. She felt the heat and imprint of his fingers through the silk of her dress, just as she felt his chest brush against hers. Their legs moved in rhythm, with only his pants and her skirt touching.

  For just a moment, she longed for him to pull her close, until there was no polite distance between them. Until she could feel the beating of his heart against her breast and experience the sensation of his hot breath on her neck.

  But such romantic, physical contact would be ludicrous. She wasn’t into one-night stands, and Gray had been honest about his dating rules.

  When the song ended, she let out a sigh. Someone slowly turned up the lights until she could see Gray’s pensive expression. But then, as he always seemed to do, he schooled his features into a neutral, pleasant expression as he gazed down at her.

  Then her stomach rumbled.

  Not just a tiny little sound, but a clearly discernible signal that she was hungry. Starved, in fact.

  Gray chuckled. “I did mention earlier that you were eating like a bird.”

  “Prime rib isn’t my favorite, and even if it were, I’m not sure I could have forced down another bite of the shoe leather we were served.”

  “To tell you the truth, I could use some food myself.” He raised his arm and glanced at his watch. “It’s after midnight, so that means we can officially have breakfast.”

  “Officially?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I suppose you know another great place.”

  “Of course,” he replied with a grin. The glint in his silvery eyes told her the breakfast spot would be as unusual as his choice of nightclubs.

  Amy smiled as he led her off the dance floor. They had no future together, but apparently their one-time date wasn’t quite finished yet.

  GRAY PULLED THE LEXUS to a stop and cut the headlamps. He didn’t need artificial light to see the structure in front of him. He’d been coming here for years. This place was one of the biggest reasons he’d decided to move to the Hill Country.

  He would have had some explaining to do, except that Amy had gone to sleep almost as soon as they’d settled into the car. He’d been free to drive as he wished, setting up what he hoped would be a good surprise. He’d never taken another woman to this place, but if he was to have only one date with Amy, he wanted her to spend just a little time here.

  In the bucket seat across from him, she stirred. Beneath her open coat, he noticed how the pale blue silk dress stretched over her breasts as she shifted in the seat. Amy Wheatley was not only an intelligent, beautiful woman, but she was witty and pleasant. More than pleasant, she was desirable.

  He wasn’t going to act on his desire, though. One date was all he’d have with Amy, no matter how much he’d like to begin a relationship. If he allowed himself to get involved with her, eventually one of them would get hurt. He wasn’t going to get married again, and the good citizens of Ranger Springs would expect him to ask Dr. Ambrose Wheatley for his daughter’s hand before long.

  Gray looked out the windshield to the darkness. How often he’d come here, looking for answers. Tonight there were no answers to this unexpected dilemma.

  He knew Amy wasn’t the kind of woman who wanted a clandestine affair, which is all either of them could afford. They couldn’t openly flaunt a sexual relationship, or even sneak around like a couple of teenagers for long. Not in a small town. Her reputation as a competent physician would suffer, and his as an upstanding businessman would be null and void.

  No, there wasn’t any way they could have a relationship. For tonight, however, they could have a great breakfast. He’d take her home, explain again that he didn’t do second dates and say that he’d see her around town.

  Such a bland statement of the potential he sensed for a mature, mutually satisfying relationship between two adults.

  “Gray?”

  He schooled his features, then turned to his passenger. “We’re here.”

  “Where?” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Oh, it looks like they’re closed.”


  Gray raised his key ring. “Not to me.”

  “You have a key to a restaurant?” Her sexy voice sounded sleepy and confused—a potent combination.

  Gray smiled, anticipating her surprise when she discovered where they were. “Come on.”

  He walked around the Lexus while Amy belted her coat and gathered her purse. When she swung her legs out of the car, he again admired her long, shapely calves and narrow feet, set off by high heels and pale, glittery hose.

  “Gray, where are we?”

  He placed his hand under her elbow. The gravel crunched under their impractical shoes as they walked to the porch. Overhead, a billion stars competed with the half moon to light the crisp night air.

  “I know you were probably expecting a restaurant, but in all honesty, I make the best breakfast you’ll find anywhere.”

  Amy stopped, her eyes showing some lingering, sleep-induced confusion. “Where are we?”

  “At my cabin on Lake Buchanan,” he said carefully.

  She looked around at the rural setting. “I thought we’d be going to something like a diner in Austin.”

  “My omelettes are much better.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the crisp, clear air. “This is much nicer. No rowdy teenagers. No smokers in the next booth.”

  “I’m glad you like it. The view is beautiful during the day.” Not that he’d bring her back here to see it, he reminded himself. Again, he felt a hollow ache when he realized he and Amy wouldn’t be dating. “My uncle used to bring me here when I was a kid. I bought it from him when he couldn’t keep it up any longer.”

  “You’re a very nice man,” she said, her voice soft and throaty in the quiet, cold night.

  Chills ran up his spine, but had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the woman standing before him. “Thank you, but my motives were also selfish. I love coming here to relax.”

  Amy shrugged, hugging her arms around her. “Well, since I need to find another compliment you’ll accept, I could also mention that you’re a good dancer.”

  “That one I’ll take, on the condition I have an equally talented partner,” he said, slipping his hand beneath her elbow as he guided her toward the cabin. “I’m also a damn good cook.”