Page 52 of Casita Casanova
“Who’s Danielle?”
“My best friend. She lives out in Temecula.”
I glance at her profile as we walk. “I don’t have any idea what that is.”
Maryn chuckles. “That’s okay. Most people don’t, and they’re actuallyfromCalifornia. It’s a city.” She nods her head toward her left, east. “Inland a bit.”
When we reach a red light, I nudge her arm with my elbow.
“What?” she says coyly as she meets my gaze.
“Thanks for asking me out.”
She fights a smile, but in the low light of the streetlights I can see the blush creeping into her cheeks. “It’s not a date.”
“Of course it isn’t.”
It definitely is.
The light changes, and the crosswalk sign gives us the okay to proceed, so I press my hand against her lower back again and we resume our trek. I take it as a win that she doesn’t move away from my touch or tell me to drop dead. Baby steps.
A few more blocks and Maryn stops in front of a brightly lit up restaurant with a large, colorful patio. “Here we are.”
Cutout paper streamers drape across the patio in every direction, and string lights create a canopy of light above them, then wrap around every tree trunk. The chairs and tables are painted metal and wood—none of them matching—a hodge podge of yellow, green, red, and blue. It’s busier than I expected and definitely more people than I’ve seen gathered in one place since I got here.
“See?” She smiles at me. “Not a ghost town.”
“Not tonight anyway.” I open the door and follow Maryn inside, then approach the hostess. “Two, please.” Looking at Maryn, I ask, “Patio okay?” She nods, so I look back at the girl. “Patio, if you have a table available.”
The little brunette blinks a few times.
I roll my eyes. I’m not really in the mood for the shock and awe tonight. “Do you have any tables on the patio?” I ask slowly, emphasizing each word.
Her eyes widen. “Oh, sorry, no. We’re really busy tonight—”
“Marisol, is it?” I smile at her and make sure she can see that there’s no one else on earth but her. “Are you sure you don’t have a table? There’s just two of us.”
She blinks, locked in my gaze. Got her.
“Can you go check one more time for me?”
She draws in a breath, then hurries off to find me a table.
“Cas.”
Ignoring Maryn, I mimic Marisol’s wide smile when she returns. “We have one!”
I give her an extra bit of the panty dropper, then add in a wink. “That’s my girl. Lead the way.”
I return my hand to its new favorite place, half on the waistband of Maryn’s jeans and half on the soft skin of her back.
She eyes me playfully as I usher her forward. “You know, it’s really not fair to them.”
“Who?” I lean in to better hear her response.
“Women, Cas.”
Smirking, I don’t respond until we’re both seated at the table and we’ve said goodbye to the poor girl I struck dumb by simply existing. Playing along, I ask, “What’s not fair?”
