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The deck at Guidry’s was where he met most of his blind dates. It had a great view of the bay.

His mother would’ve loved the light here. She would be fascinated with the colors of the sunset and how they played with the water. Maybe Brynn would, too.

Yep, still thinking about her.

After the morning he’d had, it had been a blessedly slow shift at the station house. Roxie had driven him out to pick up his vehicle and they’d gone on patrol. He’d listened to her talk endlessly about some of the work Brynn had done, though she’d consistently called her Bria.

She wasn’t a Bria. She was definitely a Brynn. It fit her much better. Bria was a woman who never had a hair out of place, and Brynn was adorably disheveled.

And Harry was wrong. The light wasn’t best at the pier. What was the man thinking? He needed to stick to the multitudinous talents he’d been blessed with and leave art to people who knew something about it. The light out on the islands was magical. It was the obvious place to send Brynn.

Though she would need a guide. It could be dangerous to be out on the islands alone.

“Hey, Major. Can I get you a beer?” Lisa Guidry stood in front of him with a pad in her hand, despite the fact that he knew she could remember a table of ten’s orders without missing a one. “Or is this your standard blind date night?”

It was sad that he had a standard for blind dates since he’d been on so many of them. “Iced tea, please.”

He didn’t drink on blind dates. It could lead to bad things, and he didn’t need any more videos of himself haunting the Internet.

Lisa had a mass of dark hair and blue eyes. She wore her Guidry’s T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. When it got a bit hotter, she and the rest of the staff would make the switch to shorts. For now it was nice in the evenings. There was even the hint of a cool breeze coming off the bay.

“So what is this? Like number wise?” Lisa asked.

“This will make number twenty-three in the last six months.” He was sure there was a bet about his love life going on somewhere in town. Probably several.

“Do you mind if I ask why you decided to become the Bayou Bachelor?”

He had to laugh at the way she put it. He wasn’t handing out many roses, but then he was pretty sure some of those women would have happily taken a limo ride away from him. “Well, I turned thirty-three in December. All my friends are married with the exception of Quaid, and I’m pretty sure he’s planning on dying single at his desk.”

His friend Quaid was the only lawyer in town, and he showed no signs of giving in to the matchmaker’s call.

“So you’re looking for a wife?” Lisa asked.

“I guess.” What he was truly looking for was a connection. He felt like he hadn’t connected with a woman in a very long time. “I also had a talk with my father, and he made me promise I would put myself out there. Here in Papillon there aren’t a lot of single women. Most of the ones I meet . . . well, it’s not good to find dates from the women I end up arresting.”

“Armie gave my sister a ticket and she still married him,” Lisa pointed out.

“I think that’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing.” He sat back. “Anyway, the minute it got out that I was ready to meet women, it was like the floodgates opened. I haven’t clicked with anyone yet despite the fact that they were all lovely.” It was true. Mostly. There had been Inez Smith’s sister who’d recently divorced and spent the entire evening talking about how she was going to murder her ex. She’d been specific enough that Major had written the plot down just in case. “So it’s open season on me for every matchmaker on the bayou.”

He had to have gone through most of them by now, and he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or depressed at the thought. Shouldn’t he have connected with one of them?

“You know, I’ve found that it’s often when we’re not looking that we find the thing we need the most,” Lisa said, her expression soft. “Remy and I got together at a time when it seemed like neither of us was in a place to have a relationship. But it worked out. I know it seems like it takes forever, but sometimes you have to have a little faith. You’re a very good man, and I would hate for you to settle because you think it’s time.”

Wasn’t that exactly what he was trying to do? “I’m kind of playing the field.”

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