The Maverick Part 21

"Oh, I don't know," he said, stroking her tummy. "I think we know each other pretty well." He sounded amused.

"I'm not speaking of knowing in the biblical sense. I'm talking about the deeper sense, the psychological and spiritual sense. Why, I don't even know your favorite color."

"Blue. Yours?"

"Red and blue and yellow. And some greens. And I love teal."

"Doesn't that cover everything?" he asked.

"Oh, no. I'm not wild about most browns, mustard and magenta. And I don't much care for lime-green or dark olive."

"What's magenta?"

"It's kind of like fuchsia, only darker and less vivid."

He chuckled. "Of course. How could I not have known?" He kissed her nose. "Ca.s.s, I don't need a long time to know I'm wild, crazy in love with you. I've known a fair number of women in my life, and none of them came close to affecting me the way you do. Your smile lights me inside, and the sound of your voice sets my heart racing. Just being around you makes me feel as if I could fly."

She touched his cheek. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. But I want to make sure the feelings last. To me, marriage isn't on a trial basis. It's a lasting commitment."

"All I can say is every day I've known you, my feelings for you have grown. There's nothing I wouldn't do to make you happy. Nothing." He took her hand and kissed her fingers. "Nothing." He tucked her head against his shoulder. "Now go back to sleep and don't worry. You need your rest."

"Okay, but tomorrow I'm going to get a prescription for the pill. And let's not forget protection again. All right?"

"I promise."

Ca.s.s slept better than she had in days.

When she opened her eyes, Griff was on his side, head propped in his hand, watching her. She stretched and smiled.

He leaned over and circled her nipple with his tongue, then sucked gently. "I've been wanting to do that for the last twenty minutes."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Twenty minutes." He moved to the other breast, blowing gently, then taking the hardened tip into his mouth. "Mmm."

"Mmm, yourself. I have to brush my teeth and take a shower."

"Sometimes hygiene is highly overrated." His attention went back to her breast.

"Not in my book."

"Do you have an extra toothbrush?"

"Where's yours?"

"In my luggage. In my car. Out front. Be still."

"Griff, I'm getting up. Let go. Ouch!"

"Sorry. Let me kiss it and make it well."

She laughed and twisted away, batting him with her pillow. "I've got first dibs on the bathroom. Why don't you make coffee?"

Considerably refreshed, she came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, to smell coffee brewing and see Griff headed toward her, naked as a jaybird.

"Where are your clothes?" she asked, trying not to stare at some of his more magnificent parts.

"In a wrinkled mess on the floor. Be right back." He kissed her on the way to the bathroom.

"I left a new toothbrush out on the counter," she called after him.

His clothes were indeed a wrinkled mess. She tossed them on the bed, then got out her ironing board and set the iron to heating while she dressed in capris and a cool, sleeveless top. By the time Griff exited the bathroom with a towel draped around his hips, his pants were pressed and she was steaming the last sleeve of his shirt.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Haven't you ever seen anybody iron?" she countered.

"You're ironing my clothes?"

"Why is that such a surprise?" She held up his shirt. "It's no big deal. I've been doing it most of my life."

His brows went up. "Ironing men's clothes?"

"No. Ironing my my clothes." She smiled and held the shirt for him to slip his arms into. "I suppose the concept might be difficult to understand for a man who sends bathing suits to the laundry." She nipped his shoulder, then slid his shirt into place. "I'll go check on the coffee. I'm craving caffeine." clothes." She smiled and held the shirt for him to slip his arms into. "I suppose the concept might be difficult to understand for a man who sends bathing suits to the laundry." She nipped his shoulder, then slid his shirt into place. "I'll go check on the coffee. I'm craving caffeine."

While Griff finished dressing, she went into the kitchen and poured two cups. She emptied a packet of sweetener in hers 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 b.u.t.ter 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."

Ca.s.s 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 b.u.t.ter 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." 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. She smirked at him.

"I had two years of French."

"So did I, but I rarely say au contraire. 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 sc.r.a.ped 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 s...o...b..ll's chance in h.e.l.l," Ca.s.s said. "You are not 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." 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."

Ca.s.s 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." Ca.s.s 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 me?"

"I wouldn't count on it. Pay the fine. It's probably only fifteen bucks, and you can pay online or by phone. What's all that?" she asked, peering into the backseat at two large boxes.

"Some things that wouldn't fit in the trunk."

"Where's your luggage?"

"In the trunk."

Puzzled, she shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat." Those suckers must have cost a fortune to bring on the plane. She gave him directions to Diane's office.

Diane, a little red-haired dynamo with a big smile, arranged for them to see three places, starting with the most distant. The first, a two-bedroom condo on the west side, with a lake view and nice furnishings, Griff said was too far out of town.

The next was in the Hyde Park area, and the furniture was Victorian with crocheted antimaca.s.sars. Ca.s.s bit back a laugh when Griff looked horrified and said, "Not exactly my style."

The last one was a two-bedroom corner unit in a downtown high-rise, with a spectacular view of both the capitol and the lake. Its contemporary furnishings were something out of Architectural Digest. Architectural Digest.