“Wasn’t that fun?” Cass asked on the drive home. “I do adore that bunch of people.”

“Nice folks,” Griff said.

Even though he smiled and said the right things, Cass got the sudden impression that poor Griff hadn’t had fun at all. He’d been charming to everyone the whole afternoon, but was it all an act? “I suppose the gang might be overwhelming all at once. What was I thinking to put you through such an ordeal? Will you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I enjoyed meeting your family. I don’t recall ever being around so many lawmen at one time—at least not since the cops raided a frat party when I was in college.”

“Don’t tell me you were intimidated.”

“By a forest of drawling Texas Rangers and country sheriffs? Not me, darlin’.”

Cass frowned. Did she hear a smidgen of condescension in his tone? More than a smidgen, she decided. And it rankled. She was nuts about her newfound Outlaw relatives and proud of every one of them. Totally aggravated by his attitude, she was tempted to stop her car and leave him on the side of the road. The sooner she could get back to Austin and dump this New Yawk Yankee, the better. She should never have taken up with him in the first place. A cute butt and gorgeous eyes didn’t trump narrow-mindedness.

Griff must have picked up on her thoughts because he said, “Okay, I admit the Outlaw guys made me a little uneasy. The mere size of them is enough to make anybody quake in their boots.”

“But they’re all pussycats. Sweet as pie.”

Griff chuckled. “Don’t let the big grins and back slapping fool you. Those guys, McKee included, could wade into a pack of hungry grizzlies and come out unscathed.”

Cass laughed. “And with several bearskin rugs. I’ll give you that.”

“I wouldn’t want to meet any of them in a dark alley. I’m a lover, not a fighter.” He gave her a very engaging grin.

She laughed again. She suspected that Griffin Mitchell could hold his own in that alley, but his comments had deflated her pique with him. “Don’t discount Belle. She has a black belt in something or other.”

“I’m not at all surprised. Are you a martial arts expert, as well?”

Cass rolled her eyes. “Hardly. Now Sunny is another story. She’s the tough twin.”

“What was your father like?” Griff asked. “Was he as big as the rest of the Outlaws?”

“I never saw him.” She wasn’t going to mention the recent glimpses she’d had of the Senator—or whoever. “I gather from talking with Uncle Wes that they were about the same size—about like J.J. when they were young.”

“You and Sunny look a great deal like your cousin Belle.”

“Everybody says that. Strong Outlaw genes, I suppose.”

“You must be tired,” Griff said. “Would you like me to drive?”

She grinned. “Is that a subtle hint for me to ease up on the accelerator?”

“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.