Overnight Love

Mackenzie Catlay never imagined in all her life that she’d be walking into a backwoods, redneck, country bar to meet a man. Well, not like this, anyway.

A blind date.

Blind. Freaking. Date.

What had her life come to? 

“What could it hurt, Kenzie?” her mother had asked the last time she’d come to visit, two weeks ago. They’d been sitting on Kenzie’s back porch with the propane heater blasting, drinking wine and talking about what it had been like for her mother growing up in that very house and reminiscing about the times Kenzie had visited her grandparents there.

Between the two of them, they’d finished off two bottles of wine, and that was the first mistake Kenzie had made that night. The second had been turning on her computer.

At first, Kenzie had shunned the idea that her mother had easily planted in her mind. Laughed at it, even. But then, after perusing the Internet, she’d given in to the curiosity that had plagued her. 

​Her mother had mentioned a website that one of her friends had been raving about just a few weeks before. Until that moment, Kenzie had never considered trying to meet anyone, much less trying to find love, online. At twenty-six, she was content being alone, living in her grandparents’ old ranch house, sharing her bed with her cat, and not having to answer to anyone. Yep, no issues whatsoever.

Or so she’d told herself.

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

Until recently, she’d had a relatively busy dating life. It wasn’t until she’d uprooted her life eight months ago and moved to the small town where her mother had grown up that she’d started enjoying the solitude that came with being single. Apparently, too much time by herself, spent only with the company of her cat, Jasper, or the occasional visit from her mother, had been her downfall, and Kenzie had given in to her curiosity, pulling up the website. 

Just to look, she’d told herself.

“And you’re here, why?” Kenzie ridiculed herself aloud as she made her way to the front door of the small bar, the rough gravel lot causing her to wobble in her three-inch heels a time or two, but thankfully, she didn’t end up on her ass.

When Kenzie opened the door, cigarette smoke and the dull drone of conversation drifted out. Taking a step inside, she tried not to draw the attention of the people who were standing around, talking and laughing and having a good time. Although plenty of eyes slid her way, no one seemed to care that she was there. She wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The place was rustic, if that was the right word. Wood walls, wood floor, some animal heads and beer signs decorating the space, but mostly it was filled with men and women sharing conversation, a few dancing to the slow country tune playing on the jukebox.

A far cry from the bars Kenzie was used to visiting back in Houston. 

“What can I getcha, honey?” 

Kenzie glanced at the big-haired woman who was currently smacking gum and smiling like she knew a secret that Kenzie didn’t.

She probably did.

These days, Kenzie felt out of the loop wherever she went, whether it was the grocery store or the bank. According to her mother, people in small towns prided themselves on knowing everyone, and until Kenzie made an effort to get to know people there, she was going to look like an outsider.

I’m here now, she thought to herself.  

“Bud Light,” Kenzie told the bartender, mentioning the first thing that came to mind. Since she didn’t drink beer, she figured it didn’t really matter what the label said. She’d merely be using it as a prop. Her drink of choice would’ve been a nice glass of wine, maybe a shot of something stronger, but definitely not beer. Considering she was meeting a man she’d only talked to on the Internet over the course of a week, keeping all her wits about her was the most important thing, as far as she was concerned. So, the beer was just an accessory. Something to say that she belonged there, when, in truth, based on the people standing around, she knew otherwise.

Amongst the cowboys in their western gear and the women in their rhinestone-encrusted outfits, Kenzie knew she looked out of place. She’d put on her favorite little black dress at the last minute, not wanting to spend more time than necessary digging through the boxes she had yet to unpack. The ones that contained her nice clothes, the outfits she’d worn when she’d had an active social life and not spending most of her time doing little more than take care of a few cows, a couple of horses, and a handful of chickens. Something she still had no idea how to do. Not well, anyway. Then again, that was why she still had Ralph, the ranch hand who’d been with her grandparents for longer than Kenzie could remember.

Nope, her black dress and killer heels stood out like a neon sign. This was a redneck bar, and Kenzie was a big-city transplant who was having a hard time fitting in no matter what she did.

Ever since moving to Embers Ridge, she’d settled on being a loner, hanging out at home with her cat and her livestock. Considering that the only reason she’d moved there was because her grandfather had left his small ranch to her when he’d passed away nine months ago, she wasn’t surprised. The only human contact she’d had recently were the sporadic phone calls to a few of her friends in Houston, her mother’s frequent visits, her late-night chats with her cat, and a couple of brief conversations with a guy named Joe. On the Internet.

“Here ya go, honey,” the woman said as she set the bottle on the scarred bar top in front of Kenzie. “Haven’t seen you ’round these parts.”

Kenzie shook her head. “I’m not from around here.”

“Couldn’t tell,” the other woman said facetiously, a wide smile on her bright red lips. “Name’s Marla. Just holler if you need anything else.”