The Best Blind Date in Texas

by Victoria Chancellor

  With another sigh, she plopped down on her sofa. She missed the quiet anticipation of spending time with him away from the prying eyes of her friends and neighbors. Her body yearned for the sexually charged moments they’d shared on the dance floor and in his car on their first date. She longed for the excitement of finding him in the clinic’s waiting room, or having lunch at the café.

  “I miss him,” she whispered to herself. They’d been in the same room, at the same party, but they hadn’t been alone. Not that he’d ignored her. He’d been polite and charming, as though she were his first cousin.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have been so emphatic about not pursuing a relationship outside the bounds of their agreement. If she’d been a little more open to seeing him privately, or spending time alone just because they enjoyed each other’s company, perhaps they could have explored where their dating might lead. Maybe he wasn’t really opposed to finding someone special for his life.

  No, she reminded herself, shaking her head, he’d been very clear. She would be deluding herself if she thought there was a future together for her and Gray. Despite having a few things in common, such as growing up only children and being determined to make a life here in Ranger Springs, they were very different. Gray’s dedication to his business might appear similar to her dedication to medicine, but he took his role as founder and president of Grayson Industries as seriously as most men took their marriages.

  He’d claimed he made a terrible husband. If he ignored his wife for his business, Amy could well imagine that he was correct.

  Or maybe he’d been married to the wrong woman. Maybe…No, her speculation was ridiculous. Women didn’t change workaholics into perfectly attentive husbands; men had to make that decision on their own.

  The sound of his car in her driveway broke into her thoughts. She pushed up from the couch, wondering for the hundredth time why she’d purchased something so uncomfortable. Black leather had seemed cosmopolitan and appropriate for a single woman in Fort Worth. In her cozy little frame house in Ranger Springs, it seemed ridiculous.

  Before Gray rang her doorbell, she smoothed her black silk shirt over matching slim pants. A cheerful, colorful Christmas tree pin kept the outfit from appearing too severe. With all the social events she and Gray had attended in the past weeks, she was running out of clothing changes!

  “Hello,” she said as she eased open the door. A cold north wind ruffled his salt-and-pepper hair and gave color to his lean cheeks as he climbed the steps. The same wind plastered the thin silk to her shivering body.

  “Hello.” He paused, giving her a quick once-over that instantly took away the winter’s chill. “You look wonderful.”

  “Thank you. Please, come inside.” She backed up, but couldn’t escape a slight brush against his warm, hard body as he held the door open. Longing for the electrifying attraction she’d experienced only with Gray hit her hard. All she had to do was lean forward, press her breasts against his chest, slide her hands beneath the soft wool of his jacket….All she had to say was that she’d decided to void their agreement. They could have a meaningless but mutually satisfying affair. They could be discreet. No one needed to know they were warming each others’ sheets but the two of them….

  And yet she knew such bravado would be a lie. Sex with Gray would be anything but simple, and she was sure everyone in town would know of her joy and her ultimate heartache.

  She couldn’t risk her heart any more than her reputation. For years, she’d guarded both zealously.

  He held out her coat. “Are you ready?”

  Ready for another party. Another social obligation where they could act the part of the happy couple for the whole town to see. Ready? No, she wasn’t, she wanted to say. Let’s just stay home and cuddle on the couch. Let’s heat up that cool black leather and forget the agreement. Instead, Amy made herself smile in reply as she slid her arm into the sleeve. “Of course.”

  AMY’S TENSION INCREASED as December waned. Her schedule remained busy at the clinic, but at least the holiday social invitations decreased as families prepared for Christmas celebrations and trips. She thought she saw conjecture about herself and Gray in the eyes of her friends and neighbors, but perhaps that was her imagination. Was the tension coming from her desire to be with him—and knowing she had to keep her hands off—or from the pressure of others wanting them to become even closer?

  An uncomfortable and potentially disastrous Christmas family celebration was avoided when Gray announced he’d be going back to Dallas for the holiday. He would spend the long weekend with his mother and stepfather.

  Amy breathed a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to endure more speculative looks from her father and Joyce, who’d agreed to join them for dinner at the Wheatley home. When presents were opened, no one would be looking over her shoulder to see if Gray had purchased some pricey piece of jewelry. She wouldn’t have to explain that her gift to Gray was neither expensive nor extremely personal; she’d had a difficult time finding something for a man who was her pretend boyfriend. However, she was rather proud of her selection, although there had been a lot of rushing to get it finished on time.

  Before he’d left, he’d asked if they could exchange gifts when he returned on Tuesday. He probably didn’t know what to get for her, either. No doubt he’d buy a gift similar to what he would give a secretary or a female friend. A scarf or a pair of leather gloves, maybe.

  The smell of roasted turkey and dressing drifted through the open doorway of the kitchen. From the adjoining living room, Christmas carols provided background music for her father’s conversations with Joyce. Amy placed the last of the embroidered Christmas napkins beside each place setting, then straightened a knife that had been bumped out of place. Ready.

  Just like she’d done for many years as a teenager, she’d set the table and prepared a meal for herself and her father. She’d placed the centerpiece of red silk poinsettias and striped candy canes on a table runner embossed with peppermint sticks and snowmen. Childhood comforts, kept from when her mother had performed the routine each Christmas.

  In the past, the sameness had seemed comforting for both her and her father. This year, however, they had company. For the first time Ambrose Wheatley had invited a woman to share the holiday with them. A signal, perhaps, that he was ready to move on? That his daughter should do the same?

  Amy wasn’t sure. Something felt different about this holiday, but she couldn’t tell if it was her move back to Ranger Springs after years away, or her father’s love interest or her own mixed feelings about Gray. The people, the music, and the decorations were the same, but she was seeing them through the eyes of a nearly thirty-year-old woman, not a twelve-year-old girl. This year, she wished she’d splurged on a new table decoration or changed the menu just a little. Did her newfound restlessness extend beyond the Christmas holiday? Did she want more from her personal life as well?

  GRAY NEEDED THE THREE days away from Ranger Springs to get perspective on this situation he’d gotten himself into with Amy. Who would have believed he’d be so attracted to a dedicated small-town doctor? At the time they’d made their agreement, he hadn’t expected to become emotionally attached to her. He’d liked her from their first date, but since the divorce he’d been able to keep women in perspective; his business and all that entailed came first.

  He’d encouraged Amy to think about an affair. Had he been thinking with that supposedly sharp mind of his, or with another part of his anatomy? After being away from her for two days, away from the pressures of Ranger Springs matchmakers, did he still believe an affair was possible?

  The present he’d purchased for her yesterday rested on the dresser of his old bedroom at the family home in east Dallas—the one his mother had kept in the divorce. Wrapped in elegant black and gold, he wondered if Amy would like his gift selection. He wondered if she’d think it was too much, too soon. He’d find out on Tuesday.

  “Gray, dinner is almost ready,” his mother said from th
e open doorway. “Your stepfather and our guests are finishing their cocktails.”

  He turned, chasing away his worries with a pleasant smile. He didn’t want to hint at anything that would upset her on Christmas. “I’ll be right there, Mother.”

  “I’m so glad you came home for the holiday.”

  “I am too,” he said with a genuine smile. His mother smiled in return, showing her perfect dimples unaffected by a recent facelift. She smoothed the lapels on her tailored silk suit and turned back to her guests.

  Gray sighed. He couldn’t tell her that his need to be back in Dallas—and out of Ranger Springs—was twofold. First, he sincerely believed one should be with family during the holidays. Since his father was in the Mediterranean with his very young third wife, visiting him wasn’t an option. Second, he needed the time away from Amy. Away from the tension of wanting her, of knowing their dating agreement kept them apart even as it pulled them together, time after time.

  Suddenly, he needed to talk to her. To wish her a Merry Christmas and hear her voice. The holiday dinner could wait just two or three minutes while he made a call to Ranger Springs.

  He dialed information to get Ambrose Wheatley’s home number, then counted the rings impatiently until someone answered. He knew Amy was at her family home; she’d mentioned that Joyce was joining her and her father for the meal.

  “Hello?” Her voice sounded warm and slightly breathless. Sexy as hell.

  “It’s Gray,” he said, clenching the phone tightly.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Fine. I just wanted to talk to you. To wish you a Merry Christmas.”

  He imagined her face softening from an expression of worry to the slight smile she wore as naturally as a white lab coat. “Merry Christmas to you, too,” she said, her voice as soothing and inviting as her smile.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. I know it’s against our agreement, but this is, after all, a special holiday.”

  “I…I understand. There’s no need to exchange gifts at the town square.”

  “I’m glad you understand.” He paused, elated that the conversation was going so well. Good enough that he could press for more. “How about dinner? You’ve never been out to my house, and I’d like to show you how the art looks in the dining room.”

  She paused as though considering the implications of being alone in his house. “You’re cooking?” she finally said.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s worth one minor violation of our agreement. I remember those omelettes you fixed in the cabin.”

  “I’ll try to live up to your expectations.” In more ways than one, he felt like adding.

  “All right,” she said, her voice both hesitant and husky.

  She could turn him on with little more than a simple comment, an innocent remark. “I’ll see you around five o’clock, then, at my house. You are off tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, the clinic is closed. I’ll put my dad on call.”

  “See you tomorrow,” he said in a near whisper, wishing she were here right now, in his old bedroom, with her competent hands and soft smiles. Wishing he could stretch out beside her on that queen-size bed and explore all the places he’d dreamed about with increasing frequency.

  He heard a faint sigh on the line. “Merry Christmas, Gray.”

  “Merry Christmas. See you tomorrow.” He placed the receiver back on the phone cradle.

  He’d agreed to their relationship to escape the demands of unending blind dates. He’d thought his life was complicated back then. He’d believed those dates were creating a problem in his personal life.

  He’d been clueless. He now realized the biggest problem he’d encountered since the divorce was wanting a woman he couldn’t have for several valid reasons—and having a very strong desire to toss all his good intentions and logical arguments out the window.

  But he didn’t want to get married again. The idea of a wife and family still sent chills through him. He knew he’d be a terrible husband. Hadn’t he proved so in the past? Since he’d had such bad role models, he’d no doubt be an equally terrible father. He couldn’t risk another bad marriage just because he wanted Amy Wheatley more than he’d wanted anything in a long, long time.

  Chapter Eight

  As soon as Amy turned off the key to her car, she placed a hand across her stomach, as though she could quiet the fluttering inside. Okay, she’d been over this before, deciding she could handle a violation of their agreement. Or maybe a total change in their agreement. They were exchanging gifts in private. He was cooking dinner for her.

  Apparently, with a little help from Hanson’s Air Conditioning and Heating. Glancing at the repair truck parked outside Gray’s home, she hoped he didn’t have a serious problem.

  The weak winter sun rested wearily on the endless hills to the west. Until Christmas Eve, the weather had been warm, but now a cold front had pushed south until everyone wondered if they might get a rare snowfall. No such luck, Amy thought as she grabbed the large gift bag, pulled her jacket tight and hurried toward the front door.

  The door opened when she was halfway up the fieldstone steps. One of her former schoolmates, Tug Hanson, nearly hit her in the shins with his metal tool case.

  “Oops,” he said, a big smile on his homely face. “I nearly got you, Amy.” He sat the heavy box down with a rattle.

  “You sure did, Tug.” She peered past him to the open doorway. “Gray?”

  “Right here,” he said, easing through the opening. “We had a little problem.”

  “Anything serious?”

  “I don’t think so,” Gray replied.

  “Wind blew out the pilot light on the furnace sometime this weekend,” Tug explained. “I put on a gizmo that’ll keep it from happening again and relit the pilot.” He grinned, giving a trademark pull on his left ear.

  A gizmo, hmm? She certainly hoped Tug knew his heating repairs better than he knew the proper names of the mechanical components he installed.

  “We’re all finished, then?” Gray asked.

  “You bet.” Tug picked up his tool case and gave her a wave. “Good to see you again, Amy.”

  “Same here, Tug.”

  Gray stood outside the door, an intense, welcoming smile on his face. He looked wonderful, dressed in a black pullover sweater and faded jeans that hugged his hips and thighs. Lean and hard and just a tiny bit edgy. “Come inside.”

  Said the spider to the fly, Amy thought as she walked up the remaining steps. The sound of the van leaving faded into the distance as she stood in front of Gray.

  “Are you sure this is a good time for you? I could come back some other—”

  “Today is fine. The temperature inside is a little cool,” he said as he pushed the door wider, “but I’ve built a fire.”

  As soon as she walked into the house, the smell of some type of aromatic sauce hit her hard. Maybe those fluttering sensations in her stomach were really hunger pangs.

  “You might want to leave your jacket on for a while,” Gray said as he placed a hand on her back. “The furnace will warm the place up in a half hour or so, according to our resident expert.”

  “It’s not so cold,” Amy said, walking across the stone-paved foyer so she could see the open floor plan. To her left, the large living room stretched upwards toward a loft, accessed by a curving staircase. A wall of windows overlooked the Hill Country. To the right, a dining room provided a more intimate space, with seating for eight around a highly polished, dark wood table. Two places had been set at the end, near another window that overlooked the rolling hills.

  “Your home is beautiful.” She loved the blend of natural elements and open space.

  “Thank you. I’ve enjoyed it.” He walked into the dining room. “What do you think?”

  She followed him, her gaze fixing on the large framed mixed media piece that hung over an antique sideboard. “It’s perfect. You have a good eye.”

  “Robin helped me under
stand what I like. She’s really good at working with people.”

  “I’m sure she is.” Amy knew it would be a while before she could afford an interior decorator. She still had some student loans to pay off, then she’d like to invest more in equipment for the clinic. First to go when she did have extra money would be the leather couch. “She’s a friend, also, isn’t she?”

  Gray nodded. “I was best man in her wedding to Ethan.”

  “Have you known him a long time?” Amy asked as she followed him through a short hall into the kitchen.

  “We met in Dallas, while I was working on a project for the FBI.” Gray walked over to a professional looking stove and picked up a wooden spoon. “At the time, I was married and he was single, so we didn’t socialize as much as we would have if we’d both been unattached.”

  “So now that you’ve moved to Ranger Springs, he’s married and you’re single.”

  “Life’s funny that way,” Gray said, stirring the fragrant sauce. He left the spoon in the pot and opened another lid. Steam wafted toward a copper vent.

  “My goodness, that smells good.”

  “A family recipe.”

  “Is your mother a good cook?”

  “No, but our housekeeper was,” Gray replied with a smile. “She was determined I’d be able to prepare a few dishes so I wouldn’t live on pizza and burgers when I got my first apartment.” He shrugged. “I realized I enjoyed puttering around the kitchen, especially after the divorce.”

  He spoke of the breakup of his marriage without any emotion, but Amy wondered if deep inside he still had scars. He’d seemed bitter when he spoke of his ex-wife, but not when he spoke of being married. That probably said something profound about him, but she didn’t know if she wanted to pursue that line of thinking. Somehow, delving into his past seemed too intrusive. She was more interested in his present, anyway.

  “Let me open some wine, then I’ll get the salads.”

  “I’ll help.”