She shrugged. “Isn’t it supposed to be natural to want to have a baby?”
“Every person has a right and responsibility to make that decision for themselves.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Since most of the trip had been heavy with conversation, she changed course. “You know what sounds good right now to me?”
“What’s that?”
“Ice cream.”
Blaize laughed. “How about Amy’s Ice Cream?”
“Is there a better place?”
“Not as long as Mexican Vanilla is on the menu,” he said. She appreciated him going with the flow. Talking to him was a little too easy, and she needed to pull back before the connection deepened. She was already swimming in new territory and needed to get her sea legs.
The very real threat of being sucked out by a strong current and drowned slammed into her. As much as her heart wanted to lean into Blaize, rational thought took over, warning her not to get too close.
“Mexican Vanilla happens to be my favorite, too,” she admitted, wishing they didn’t have so much in common. It would be easier to walk away if she didn’t like him so much.
The rest of the short drive to Amy’s was spent in silence. They needed to recalibrate and come up with a plan of attack for the bars. They had time. Ten o’clock was early for the bar scene.
Now that they had a picture of Stephanie, they could ask questions. If she was a regular, a good bartender would know it.
After getting ice cream that Blaize had insisted on paying for, they found a spot at one of the outdoor picnic tables and sat down. He took the seat across from her and leaned in. It was next to impossible not to feel like they were on some kind of date, especially since he paid.
Carys pushed those thoughts aside, tried not to focus on those gorgeous full lips of his—and more importantly, what they could do to her!—and forced a calm over her that she didn’t feel.
Fake it till you make itwas the worst advice she’d ever heard. It ranked right up there with saying things to yourself in a mirror that you didn’t believe. Somewhere deep in the back of your mind, you would know that you were faking it. Except when it came to smiling. Someone had once told her to smile, even when she was in a bad mood, and that worked miracles.
She’d faked being happy to make her father worry less for too much of her life. It didn’t work on him, either. Maybe Blaize was onto something about Rue recording the world around her deep in the back of her mind.
“Are you okay?” Blaize’s voice brought her attention back.
“Yes,” she said, faking it. Too bad it didn’t work like the smile. They had three bars to visit. “Where do you want to go first?”
Chapter Thirteen
“Peggie Hayes is the closest. We should start there first.” Being back in Austin brought back a flood of memories. He’d lived here with Lynn, stayed a couple of weeks after she died. Then he moved out closer to his job, where he oversaw the making of custom saddles. There were benefits to growing up on a small cattle ranch. He knew horses and everything that went along with riding or taking care of them. During the summers he gave riding instructions on the weekends at various campsites to bring in extra money.
Money might not make you happy, but lack of it sure as hell didn’t help. Medication was expensive, so were doctor bills. Insurance only covered a portion of the costs.
After marrying Lynn, Blaize had drifted away from the handful of friends he’d made over the years. A few of them married and started families. When she got sick, he isolated himself from everyone but her. Work had to be scheduled around doctor appointments. His world shrank. Despite all the hardships during his marriage, he’d loved his wife. It might not have been the same as the stirring he felt from deep within when he was with Carys, but it was love.
“You got quiet,” Carys said as they returned to the Jeep.
“Being back here…let’s say being here is loaded and leave it at that.” He’d talked enough earlier to become a talk show host.
“Quiet’s good.”
Neither said much between Amy’s and Peggie Hayes. Being in each other’s company didn’t require words. They sat in comfortable silence, not needing to fill the space.
Peggie Hayes Bar was as funky as it sounded. The walls were covered in graffiti, inside and out. The place was small, the bar big. A dance floor the size of a postage stamp took up the back corner of the room with a jukebox. There was no sawdust on the floor, but country music was as common as mainstream and commercial. Tables had games on them, like trivia, meant for group play.
He parked and then circled around to open her door. They both knew she was fully capable of opening her own door, but he liked doing little things for her, and she smiled and thanked him in response. Her face lit up and his heart galloped.
“Shall we go inside?” he asked. The music thumped. Though crowds hadn’t quite formed yet. This would be a good time to hit up the bartender, before business boomed.
“Let’s do this,” she said with a look of solidarity.
