The Maverick - By Jan Hudson Page 0,15
soft pillow. Was any sort of relationship with Griff worth pursuing? He might be gone to who knows where next week. But the fact was, she had a powerful itch for the man. On the other hand, he had a lot in common with Daniel, her ex-fiancé, and that was scary.
Cass sighed, and her next breath drew in his scent, a sexy male aroma totally different from Daniel’s. Her hormones began to dance like dervishes.
He came out a moment later, hair brushed and fresh shorts on.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” she asked.
“Notice what?”
“That you changed your clothes. The grass stains are gone.”
He grinned. “You don’t miss much, do you?”
“Nope.”
“The grass stains were bad enough, but some other unknown substance was a little sticky. Will you forgive me if I promise to buy some flip-flops tomorrow?”
“It’s a deal,” she said. “May I use your bathroom for a minute?”
“Of course. I’ll check the paper for the starting time.”
Using his bathroom wasn’t the smartest thing Cass ever did. His scent surrounded her, tantalizing her as she freshened her makeup and brushed out her hair. She washed her hands and made a quick retreat.
Still, the moment she saw him sitting on the couch and studying the paper, she had the strongest urge to snatch away the entertainment section and pin him to the cushions.
She restrained herself.
“We’ve got twenty minutes to get there,” he said. “Think we can make it?”
“If we jog, we can be there in five minutes. Race you.” She turned and bolted.
“You’re on,” he said, slamming his hand against the door before she could open it. “The race starts outside.”
Downstairs, he politely allowed her to pass through the automatic doors ahead of him, but she didn’t wait for a starting gun. She was off.
Griff caught up easily, but stayed beside her as they jogged down the wide sidewalk that led to the capitol building on the hill.
They turned on Sixth Street and stopped in front of an old movie theater in the nightclub-restaurant area. Cass was breathing hard, but Griff wasn’t even winded. Irritating.
“Is this it?”
“This is it.”
He patted his back pocket, then scowled. “Damn. I left my wallet in my other shorts. Wait here and I’ll run back for it.”
“No need. I have my emergency fund.” She pulled out the small folder that held her driver’s license, a credit card and a hundred-dollar bill. “Tonight’s on me.”
“Do you have enough to buy a hot dog? I’m hungry.”
“M’dear, I have plenty, but let’s have something better than a hot dog. The Alamo Drafthouse is literally a dinner theater. We can have a full meal while we watch the movie.”
“Really?”
“Yep.” She bought their tickets, and they went inside. “This one is the Alamo Ritz, named after the original theater.”
The place was laid out like a regular cinema except that every other row of seats had been removed and replaced with a long table. They found a spot easily enough, and Cass joined in the sing-along being conducted from the stage. She hadn’t been here in ages, and she’d always adored the place.
Griff looked through the menu. “What’s good here?”
“Just about everything. I’ve always loved their appetizers. Want to start with some nachos and frozen margaritas?”
“Sure. How about some wings, too?”
“Sounds good.”
After they ordered, Cass goaded him into singing along with the crowd. Actually, he had a very nice baritone voice, and soon he was belting out “I’m an old cowhand…” while they put their heads together and harmonized.
While they watched Butch and Sundance, they drank margaritas, munched on nachos, wings and fish tacos, and yelled out, along with the crowd, the most famous lines in the script or comments to the screen characters.
This was the Austin she loved.
WHEN THE FILM WAS OVER, they walked back to Griff’s hotel arm in arm, laughing and talking about the movie and the whole day.
“I don’t remember when I’ve had so much fun as I’ve had this trip to Austin,” Griff said.
“And why is that?” Cass asked with an exaggerated fluttering of her eyelashes.
He grinned and tousled her hair. “I think you’ve had a lot to do with that. And I do love this town. My blood pressure must have dropped twenty points since I stepped off the plane at Bergstrom Airport.”
“I can relate to that. New York is a nice place to visit, but I’ll always want to live in Austin. There’s something in the air that makes it special. I think the reason we’ve grown so much in the past few years is students