The Best Blind Date In Texas. Victoria Chancellor

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. She’d complained earlier about her father’s