The Maverick

by Jan Hudson

  “Not at all. Just an offer.”

  “I’m fine. I love driving. I missed not having a car when I was in New York. I tried keeping one for a while, but the parking was ridiculous and the traffic so unbelievable I gave up after a couple of months. Do you have a car?”

  “I keep one at my parents’ house, but I live in Manhattan and travel so much it’s not practical for me to have one in the city. If I decide to move to Austin, I’ll have to have a car. Around here, it’s a necessity.”

  “For sure.”

  As they neared his hotel, he said, “I noticed in the newspaper this morning that Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is showing at some place called the Alamo Drafthouse. Know where it is?”

  “Of course. It’s a movie theater with some added features—like beer and food. There are several around town. They show old movies as well as first runs. Sometimes there’s live entertainment.”

  “Would you like to go see Butch and Sundance jump off the cliff?”

  She thought for a moment, testing for any residual irritation with him. Not finding any and not having anything better to do, she said, “Sure.” She checked her watch. “I suspect the evening feature will be starting soon.”

  “I hope we have time to change and still make it.”

  “Change? Change what?”

  “Our clothes. I have grass stains all over my shorts.”

  She laughed. “Griff, are you ever going to learn? Trust me, nobody at the Alamo will notice. Though you might fit in better if you had some flip-flops.”

  “Can we at least stop by my hotel and let me wash up?”

  “Well, I suppose. If you insist.”

  CASS WASN’T SO SURE stopping by his hotel suite was the brightest decision she ever made. Feeling tired, she plopped down on the comfy couch while he went into the bedroom. He left the door open, and she could see the king-size bed and a shirt he’d tossed on it.

  Funny how a casually dropped shirt could stir sensual little shivers in her. She’d never met a man who could turn her on—and off—so easily. One minute she wanted to jump his bones and the next she wanted to brain him with the nearest blunt object. Was her seesawing a result of fighting her attraction to him? Maybe so, but at the moment the switch was flipped to On.

  She hugged her knees and curled up on the couch, leaning her head back against the 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 and visitors who come to town never want to leave. We have lots of waiters in town with master’s degrees.”

  When they arrived at his hotel, Griff asked, “Want to come up?”

  “I’ll have to. I left my purse in your room.” Freudian slip? she wondered.

  Of course not, her practical side said.

  Of course, her libido declared.

  After Griff unlocked his door, he asked, “Shall I order up a bottle of wine, or do you want to check the mini fridge first?”

  Dare she stay for a drink? The smart thing to do would be to grab her purse and hotfoot it home.

  Chapter Seven

  Maybe it would be smart to leave, but Cass’s credo had always asserted smart wasn’t always the most fun. She had a powerful yen for Griffin Mitchell, and the margaritas had dulled her inhibitions. This might be the perfect opportunity to discover if he was everything her imagination
had him cracked up to be.

  Of course, all she could think of on the way up in the elevator was that she’d been tromping around in the bluebonnets half the day, gorging on Mexican food, and probably smelled worse than a goat. She couldn’t quite say, Hey, if we’re going to have a romp in the hay, could I take a shower and brush my teeth first?

  Or could she?

  No way. She was a modern woman, but she wasn’t that modern. She’d always been too cautious for casual sex. And, truthfully, she was a closet romantic. It had been a long time since she’d had sex of any kind. She hadn’t met anybody who’d lit her boilers until Griff came along.

  “You’re very quiet,” he said. “Tired?”

  “No. In fact, I’m kind of jazzed.”

  “Me, too. I was just thinking a dip in the pool would feel great. Too bad you don’t have a suit. I wonder if the gift shop downstairs has any?”

  Perfect solution to her dilemma, Cass thought. A nice swim, a shower…ahhh. “I’m sure they do.”

  “Let’s check.” When the elevator door opened on his floor, Griff punched the button down to the lobby.

  In the gift shop, he zeroed on a red patterned bikini. Cass checked the tag. It was her size, but the price on it was ridiculous.

  He must have caught her frown. “My treat,” he said. “Payback for the day.”

  She didn’t argue. Nor did she protest when he handed a matching cover-up and slides to the clerk and charged the purchase to his room. After all, she suspected Griff could easily afford it. If he’d been on a budget, he would have been at Motel 6 instead of in a lake-view suite at the most expensive hotel in town. Too, she thought, he was macho enough to want to make up for her having to foot the bill for the evening’s expenses. Men were sometimes goofy like that.

  Back upstairs, he insisted that she take the bathroom while he changed in the living room. Cass took time for a quick shower and put on her new suit. It was a perfect fit, but a tiny bit of her appendectomy scar showed. Although it had faded considerably since she was fourteen and she rarely thought about it, she was suddenly very self-conscious. Why hadn’t she chosen a one-piece as she usually did?

  She sighed. Oh well. If a scar turned Griff off, so be it. What was, was. She pulled on her cover-up, stepped into her slides and grabbed a couple of towels and terry robes as she left the bathroom.

  Griff smiled when she came out. “Ready?”

  “Yep. Let’s hit that pool.”

  They went down the elevator again.

  “I heard you taking a shower,” he said. “I must smell like a goat.”

  She giggled—and couldn’t stop. They’d both had goats on their mind.

  “Am I really that bad?” he asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “Then what’s so funny?”

  Cass giggled again. “I’d been thinking the same thing about me earlier.”

  He threw an arm around her neck and gave her a peck on the nose. “You certainly don’t smell like a goat. You smell like…bluebonnets.”

  “For your information, bluebonnets don’t smell.”

  He grinned. “Neither do you.”

  “Is the pool indoor or outdoor?”

  “Outdoor, but it’s heated so the water should be perfect.”

  And it was. The full moon shimmered over the lake, just visible between the trees lining the shore, and sparkled on the surface of the pool.

  “It’s like swimming in moonbeams,” Cass said as she did a slow breaststroke across the water.

  “I arranged it just for you,” Griff said, pacing himself beside her.

  She laughed. “Yeah, sure. But it is nice. And we have the whole pool to ourselves.” She glanced up at the bank of hotel windows. “And whoever is playing voyeur inside.”

  She changed to a fast crawl, and still Griff kept pace. When she reached the edge of the pool, she grabbed on and wiped the water from her face.

  “You’re a regular otter,” he said, catching hold with both hands so that she was pinned.

  “I love swimming, but I haven’t had much opportunity lately. This is a fantastic pool.”

  “You’re welcome to come anytime you’d like.” He moved his face closer to hers, then touched her lips with his.

  Desire shot through her. If she’d done what she wanted to, they would probably have drowned. Plus the voyeurs would have had an eyeful.

  His tongue played over her lips and the pressure of his mouth deepened. Maybe drowning wasn’t such a bad way to go, and to hell with whoever was watching. Her arms went around his neck, her legs around his waist, and she returned his kiss with all the pent-up passion in her. Warm morphed into scorching until she was sure the water around her boiled.

  He groaned and reached for the ties to her bikini top. She clung tighter to him.

  “Ahem!” a voice said. “Ahem!”

  They both looked up to see a man standing nearby. “I’m sorry, but the pool is closing.”

  “But we just got here,” Griff said, his voice hoarse.

  “Sorry, sir, but it’s eleven o’clock. Perhaps you would be more comfortable…in your room.” The attendant grinned and winked.

  Cass felt herself turn a thousand shades of red. What in the world was she thinking? That was the problem. She hadn’t been thinking. Another couple of minutes and she’d have been stripped in front of God and everybody.

  “I could die,” she murmured.

  “Don’t do that,” Griff whispered. “I have better things in mind, and I’m not into necrophilia.”

  She made sure her bikini top was tied, and hoisted herself from the pool. They quickly rinsed off, toweled themselves dry and donned terry robes. Cass barely had time to step into her slides before Griff grabbed her hand and dragged her inside.

  In the empty elevator he took her into his arms again, and she melted like warm chocolate against him. Every cell in her body was on high alert. Her brain was a bowl of tapioca, and she ached with yearning. She’d never felt so out of control. She didn’t care if she barely knew this man; she only cared that she wanted him in the worst way. Longing filled her mind and throbbed in her body. Reason was overwhelmed by primal urges stronger than anything she’d ever experienced before. For once, she didn’t want to think; she wanted to feel. She needed to feel again.

  When the bell dinged, Griff seemed to come to his senses enough to exit and pull her after him. He fumbled with the key card until the door opened. Robes and bathing suits went flying, and they barely made it to the couch before Griff was on top of her, kissing, caressing, moaning. She responded to his every move, frantic with desire, urging him to enter.

  “Wait, wait!” he said. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  Cass protested, but he jumped over the back of the couch and returned in mere seconds, rolling on a condom. He knelt between her legs, scooped up her bottom and plunged deep inside. She screamed as he entered, and a powerful orgasm racked her immediately. “Oh, hell. Did I hurt you?”

  “Not…hardly,” she gasped, as the spasms seemed to go on forever.

  “That was something new for me.”

  “Thank God.” He gave a second thrust and stiffened with his own release.

  In a few moments, he withdrew and repositioned them so he lay on the couch and cuddled her on top of him.

  “I can’t believe…” she murmured. “I’m usually not…”

  “Not what?”

  “So…uh…quick to become aroused and…well, you seem to do strange things to me.”

  He squeezed her against him. “I can usually control myself a little better, too. Woman, you turn me on like crazy. I’ve had the hots for you since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Do you have to work tomorrow?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good. We can spend the rest of the night and all day tomorrow taking it a little slower.”

  “All night and all day? We’ll be exhausted. Do you think you can last that lo
ng?”

  He chuckled. “I’d sure as hell like to try.”

  Cass took another shower and washed and dried her hair while Griff ordered a bottle of wine and late night snacks.

  They drank wine and watched TV and made love again on the couch. Slowly. It was lovely.

  They slept and he awakened her with kisses, and they made love again. Slowly. It was even lovelier.

  Cass stirred when she felt kisses moving up and down her spine.

  “It’s morning,” Griff whispered. “Want some breakfast?”

  “Coffee.”

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  “You choose. I’m sleepy.”

  He kissed her shoulder and chuckled. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when food comes.”

  She dozed for a few minutes, then blinked herself awake, dragged herself out of the big bed and into the bathroom, which was still steamy from Griff’s shower. Showering again, Cass dried off, then realized she didn’t have any clean clothes. Wrapping herself in a towel, she searched the closet and found a blue dress shirt. From in the dresser she helped herself to a pair of knit boxer briefs.

  Just as she did up the last button, Griff tapped lightly on the door.

  “Breakfast.”

  She opened it. “I raided your clothes.”

  “Help yourself. My shirt never looked so good.”

  He grinned, and she wanted to grab on to him like a monkey and never let go. What was the matter with her? She’d never acted this way before or felt like this about any man. This was crazy. And scary. She ought to run for the hills, but she wasn’t going anywhere until she had a major jolt of caffeine.

  Griff waved a cup under her nose, and she followed the heavenly scent of coffee like a bloodhound as he enticed her to the lavishly set table.

  “Gimme, gimme!” She grabbed for the cup, but he held it up over her head. “I’ve been known to kill for less,” she growled.

  “Yours is poured and waiting by your plate.”

  Downing half a cup immediately, she sighed. “Heavenly. Thank you, sir.”

  “You’re very welcome, madam.” He began lifting plate covers. “French toast. Eggs, bacon, sausages. Cereal. Fruit. Anything here tickle your fancy?”