Page 2 of More Than a Blind Date

I slip it on my foot and smile. It’s not a perfect fit, but it’ll do. Without enough time to make the shoes match, I choose to live by the motto “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Hopefully, no one will look too closely at my feet.

CHAPTER 2

DALLAS

My friend Anderson’s idea of a bachelor party is having all the guys meet for dinner, then going back to the game room to play poker. And since I don’t have anyone who requires hugs and kisses before I go anywhere, I volunteered to arrive first and secure a table. But since we’re a large group, I called ahead.

Hungry and perpetually cranky, I wait for the hostess to speak to me.

She finally notices me. “How many?”

“There will be nine of us.” Driving into San Antonio wasn’t my idea. There’s a perfectly good barbecue place ten minutes from the ranch, but Anderson wanted to eat at this place.

The hostess picks up a stack of menus. “Right this way. When your friends arrive, I’ll point them to the table.”

“Thanks.” I pick a chair that allows me a view of the door.

The hostess cocks her head and toys with a strand of hair. “Are you a cowboy?”

It’s normally the other guys who have ladies flirt with them. But nowadays, they shut that down quick. Once Grayson just held up a picture of him and Daisy on his phone. That girl got the point pretty fast.

The question isn’t flirtatious, but the hair twirling is a signal. And while it could be tempting to engage, I don’t. For multiple reasons. One, she’s probably a decade younger. I’ve been told I don’t look my age, but a boyish face and my lack of height are the reasons for that. And reason two, once my friends arrive, she’ll quit flirting with me and shift her attention. So, I just keep myself out of the mix. Plus, dating sometimes leads to marriage, and I’ve given up on white picket fences. I’ll be a bachelor until the day I die.

Occasionally when I drive into the city, I get comments about my attire and cowboys. Mostly from tourists. Once, I had a couple ask if I worked on a ranch. When I confirmed, they asked if they could take a picture of me. That was funny. But I don’t think the hostess is flirting because of me. She’s just reacting to jeans and a cowboy hat. It’s like a uniform of a different sort.

“What gave it away? The dirt on my boots or under my nails? Or do I smell like a cow?” I manage to say it without cracking a smile.

“The hat.” She hugs the menus to her chest. “Are there other cowboys meeting you tonight?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for them.” She sets down the stack of menus. “Tanya will be with you in a bit. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?”

“Water would be great.” I’m sure she will be watching. Perhaps I should let her know that all the guys coming are attached. Anderson is getting married in a week, and the other guys already have wives.

Once I have my water, I scroll through social media, killing time until my friends arrive.

At the next table, a man chats on the phone and gets increasingly louder. “I had no idea. Baby, I’m not interested in dating anyone else. I want you.”

Feeling like I’m eavesdropping, I keep my eyes glued to my phone. But everyone in the restaurant can hear him. Not just me.

“Stay there. I’m on my way.” His chair moves, scraping the wood floor. “Excuse me.” He waves a hand in front of my face.

Against my better judgment, I look up. “Yes?”

He drops a long-stem red rose on my table. “I almost made the biggest mistake of my life. Will you cover for me?”

“Um. Cover how?” I know better than agreeing to something without having all the facts.

But he doesn’t answer. He just waves and strides out of the restaurant, leaving me alone with the rose. Replaying what he said doesn’t clarify the situation. I have no idea what I’m covering. But it’ll make a funny story to tell the guys over dinner. And Anderson can take the rose to his lady friend.

I go back to scrolling.

“Hi! The rose made you easy to spot. I’m glad I suggested it.” A cute blonde, who looks like she’s not even out of her teens, sticks out her hand. “Nice to meet you in person. I’m Rose. Rose Potts.”

I blink, hoping my vocal cords decide to start functioning. “Hello.” Telling her that the guy walked out before she arrived will wipe that killer smile off her face, and that would be a shame. I glance at the rose, then at the table vacated by the guy on the phone. “Um, this table is kind of big for the two of us. Maybe we should sit over here.” I point at the other table.

After jumping up, I pull out a chair for her.

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