The Maverick - By Jan Hudson Page 0,53
and took a sip. Not bad.
Joining her at the counter, Griff asked, “How’s the coffee?”
“Quite good.”
“Don’t seem so surprised. I do have a few bachelor survival skills. It helps that we have the same brand of coffeemaker.”
“Small world.”
He wrapped his arms around her and grinned. “No, babe. It’s kismet.”
She snorted. “It’s coincidence. Kismet is concerned with weightier things. And don’t expect me to make meaningful conversation until I’ve had my second cup of coffee.”
“Got it.” He opened the fridge. “What’s for breakfast? Got any eggs?”
“Nope. Today is grocery day. You can have cereal or yogurt.”
“Where’s the milk?”
“Oops. You can have yogurt.” She looked in the bread box. “And cinnamon raisin toast.”
“I’ll make the yogurt,” he said, “and you make the toast. Orange or peach?” He held up two containers.
“Since you’re the guest, you pick.” She stuck two slices of slightly hard bread into the toaster. “Grab the butter while you’re there.”
He put the tub on the table and ripped off the yogurt tops while she set out plates, napkins and tableware. When the toast popped up, she put a slice on his plate and hers, and stuck two more pieces in the toaster.
Holding her chair while she seated herself, he nuzzled her neck. “See how well we work together? A perfectly coordinated meal with all the food groups.”
Cass chuckled. “This probably isn’t an adequate test. How are you on pot roast or fried chicken?”
“We can order in.” He sat down, smeared butter on his toast and took a big bite. “Excellent, my dear. Excellent.”
She laughed. “You’re crazy.”
“What are your plans for the day—besides grocery shopping?”
“I’d planned to go for a run this morning, but I think I’ll skip it today.”
“Au contraire, my dear. I think a jog along the lake would be a splendid idea. As soon as we’ve eaten, I’ll go get my gear and join you.”
“Au contraire?” She smirked at him.
“I had two years of French.”
“So did I, but I rarely say au contraire.”
“Me either. In fact, I don’t recall ever having the occasion to say it. What shall we do after we jog and buy groceries?”
“I want to go by and see what progress Greg has made.”
“Greg?” His left eyebrow went up. “Who’s Greg?”
“The contractor who’s renovating my houses.”
“Oh, okay. I’d like to go with you.” Griff scraped the last bite of yogurt from his carton. “And sometime today I need to find a place to live. Any chance I can move in with you?”
Stunned, she stared at him as if he’d lost his cotton-pickin’ mind.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Not a snowball’s chance in hell,” Cass said. “You are not moving in with me. As a matter of fact, I need to get you out of here before my mom and aunt show up and start asking questions.”
“They’re coming here?” Griff said.
“Not to my apartment, but they’ll be in to help with the rush hour at Chili Witches. It makes them feel useful.”
Griff looked as if he wanted to say more, but, bless him, he didn’t argue. He merely shrugged. “It was worth a shot. You going to eat the rest of your toast?”
“Help yourself. Aren’t you going back to the hotel?”
“No. Since I’m going to be here so much, I want to look at some longer term options.”
She hesitated. “Longer term as in how long?”
“That depends on you.”
“No, don’t base your decisions on me. Do what you want to do.”
“Okay. I need someplace in Austin to live for a while. Any ideas?”
“I know a couple of real estate agents who may handle some rentals. Anita is on the board at POAC, and Diane is Hank Wisda’s sister.”
“Hank? The cop next door with the gun?”
“Yes, she’s less threatening than Hank.”
“Let’s call both and see what furnished places they might have available.”
Cass made the calls. Anita didn’t have anything suitable, but Diane had two or three condos she thought might do, and she could show them right away. “Want to skip the jog?”
“Yes. If I can’t stay here, I’d like to have a closet to hang my clothes.”
“Don’t pull Mr. Pitiful on me, buster,” she said, laughing. “Your car or mine?”
“Let’s take mine. I’m parked at a meter outside, and I don’t want to get a ticket.”
“Let’s boogie.” Cass grabbed her purse and they went downstairs. When they reached Griff’s rental car, she laughed and pointed to the windshield. “Too late.”
Looking disgusted, Griff pulled the ticket from his car. “And here I thought I was getting into the Austin spirit by renting a hybrid. Think Hank can get it fixed for