The Maverick - By Jan Hudson Page 0,25
have to tell them about the offer on our property, but let’s worry about it tomorrow. I’m pooped.”
ON FRIDAY MORNING, Cass packed her bag to move back to her apartment and her own bed. All the utilities were on again and the tables and chairs stored there had been moved out. Since the alarm system had been restored and upgraded, and Hank would be next door at night, she didn’t have any qualms about staying alone, and she was sure Ben and Sunny would welcome a bit of privacy over the weekend.
Even though she and Sunny had tried to discourage them, her mom and Aunt Min were determined to pitch in at the café to get things up and running. Sunny was taking them by a leasing agency to pick up a car, while Cass went ahead. The new baseboards were almost down by the time she arrived at Chili Witches.
And Griff was there. Looking as if he’d just come off the jogging trail, he smiled when he saw her. “Good morning.” He gave her a brief kiss.
“Been out for a run? I’ve been missing my time on the trail.”
“I jogged here instead of around the lake. Thought I’d see if you need me to help with anything. I’m supposed to have a meeting later, but I can reschedule if there’s anything I can do for you.” He caught her hand and touched it to his lips.
“Nothing, but thanks. The new baseboards look good, don’t they?”
“Look fine to me, but I’m no expert on baseboards.” He glanced up from where he was nibbling her fingers, and grinned. “I do, however, excel in some other areas. Could I take you away from all this tonight? I can make reservations at Hudson’s on the Bend.”
“Oh, could you?” She beamed at the mention of the unique restaurant in one of the outlying areas near Lake Travis. “I haven’t been there in ages. Are you ready for rattlesnake or wild boar?”
He wiggled his eyebrows slightly. “I’m feeling adventurous, to be sure.”
The double entendre wasn’t lost on her, and his tongue between her fingers brought a sudden visceral response. “Are you now?”
“I am.”
When a throat cleared and a male voice behind her said, “Ma’am?” Cass turned to find one of the carpenters.
She tugged her hand from Griff, and said, “Yes?”
“I have a question about something in the office area.”
“I’ll be right there.” To Griff, she said, “Pick me up here about six-thirty.”
“Here?”
“Upstairs in my apartment.”
“Do you think staying there is wise?”
“Of course.”
He started to say more on the subject, but she was sure her expression stopped him. “Could I mooch some water from you?”
“Sure.” Cass pulled a bottle from the cooler, and Griff chugged it down. “Want another for the return trip, or do you want a lift back to the hotel?”
He gave a little twitch of a smile. “Oh, I think those old bones can make it.” He kissed her cheek. “See you this evening.”
“DAMMIT!” GRIFF SLAMMED down the phone and pulled on his jacket.
Sometimes Walt could be such a jackass. Sometimes? Hell, how about all the time. He was getting fed up with his partner. Griff had spent most of the day checking out a couple of sites that would work perfectly well for their building project, both of them cheaper than the O’Connor property appraisal and both available. But for some obscure reason, Walt had his mind set on the Chili Witches site, and Griff was having a hard time trying to steer him in another direction. Not only was the O’Connor property more expensive, Walt had just taken it upon himself to send them a registered letter upping his previous offers. Stupid.
When Griff had said, “Walt, let me handle this in my own way,” he’d only laughed in that irritating way he had and remarked that Griff’s way didn’t seem to be working.
“Dammit!”
He’d hoped to gently bring up the subject of selling the property to Cass after their night together, but the flooding emergency had scotched the plan. He intended to ease into the subject tonight…or tomorrow morning if he got lucky.
He sensed that Sunny would be more amenable to selling out than Cass would. Cass was the one committed to saving old Austin. Their mother and aunt, he wasn’t so sure of. The pair of them were sharp old gals. They reminded him of his mother. The whole thing would have to be handled with finesse and not the ham-fisted way Walt worked. Sometimes Griff wondered if Walt wasn’t losing