Kiss Me If You Can (3 page)

He glanced at her curiously.

“The current Bachelor needs no introduction.” She wrinkled her nose, dismissing his current status.

“So you're really not into the whole Bachelor Blog thing?” he asked, intrigued.

She shook her head. “No self-respecting woman would chase after a man just because he's single and in possession of a ring…” Her voice trailed off and she grinned, obviously catching her description of herself.

He laughed. “Relax, Lexie. We've already established you're not interested in me,” he said, his voice gruffer than he'd intended.

“Says who?” She took back the photo and stuffed it into her bag. “See you at eight.” With a brief wave, she turned and strode down the alley, giving him a chance to check out the rest of her lovely assets, encased in white jeans and a loose tank top as she walked away.

 

L
EXIE RUSHED BACK
to her grandmother's apartment on the West Side and hurried to shower and change for her meeting with Sam Cooper.

“Sam Cooper.” She let the name roll off her tongue, smooth and easy, like Kahlua and cream, her favorite drink.

She put her key in the door and entered the apartment. As usual, the smell of violets, her grandmother's fragrance of choice, assaulted her senses.

“Grandma? Are you home?” Lexie called out.

No answer. She figured Charlotte was down the hall at Sylvia's and headed for her bedroom, turning on lights as she walked through the apartment. Her grandmother preferred the dark, drawing closed the heavy draperies covering the old windows. Lexie flipped on a couple of lamps.

In her room, she ransacked her closet, looking for something appropriate to wear for a business meeting that wasn't a date, but was still with a man she wanted to impress. She wasn't someone who accumulated a lot of stuff, so the items she owned were those she truly loved and needed. She'd never had to perfect the art of traveling light. It just came naturally to her. Making a fast perusal of her closet she chose a lightweight sundress and a pair of flowered thong sandals.

Half an hour later, she'd showered, put on a touch of makeup and blow-dried her recently cut hair. She added a thin orange headband that matched her dress, spritzed her favorite perfume and was ready to go.

Only the light butterflies in her stomach indicated that this evening suddenly meant more to her than a transaction in which she hoped to buy a ring.

When she'd gone to meet Sam earlier, she hadn't
known what to expect. Sure he'd been good looking on the news, but he'd also been shy about accepting a reward and a little gruff with the TV reporter. She hadn't been prepared for his impact in person. Once he'd gotten past his wariness of her, he'd been downright charming.

And he'd called her beautiful. Heat rose to her cheeks at the memory. Then there'd been his touch. His hands weren't roughened from hard work, nor were they soft and manicured. In fact, his fingers felt just right as they'd wrapped around her hand and the jolt of awareness sizzled straight through to her toes, and other body parts she'd be better off not concentrating on too closely right now.

She hadn't heard any noise from the rest of the apartment and assumed her grandmother hadn't yet come home. Apparently, she was going to get lucky and slip out without having to answer any questions about where she was going. She wanted to surprise her grandmother with the jewelry at the party and the fewer opportunities her grandmother had to be nosy, the better.

She'd just leave the older a woman a note so she wouldn't worry. Lexie picked up her purse, double-checked that she had the photo of her grandmother with the restaurant name and address on the back and headed into the tiny hallway and through the den area leading to the door.

A catcall stopped her in her tracks and Lexie whirled around to see her grandmother sitting in the large club chair in the corner of the room.

“Where are you going dressed so pretty?” Charlotte asked.

“You scared me! I didn't know you'd come home.” Lexie put her hand to her chest, covering her galloping heart.

Her grandmother placed her knitting on her lap. “I called out. You must not have heard me.”

Lexie nodded. “Okay, well, I'll be home later. Don't wait up.”

She took a step toward the door, only to have her grandmother say, “You didn't answer my question.”

And she'd been so close to escaping, Lexie thought. “What question was that?”

“Don't play dumb with me. Do you have a hot date?” Charlotte asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Her grandmother would like nothing better than to see Lexie settled with a man, so there would be someone to look after her once Charlotte was gone. The ultimate in hypocrisy from a woman who, though she'd married, had also claimed to have been more like the independent, well-lived Rizzo in
Grease
than the demure and innocent Sandy. Minus the promiscuity. Lexie hoped.

She'd always idolized her grandmother and never took her push toward matrimony too seriously. She
also knew better than to give Charlotte any real opening into her personal life.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but it's a work meeting, Grandma.”

Charlotte raised a penciled eyebrow in disbelief. “Oh come on now. Don't kid a kidder. You are dressed too prettily for a client. So? Do I know him? Where is he taking you? Is this the first time you're going out with him? And is he a nice young man?”

Lexie let out a dramatic sigh, discouraged but not defeated. “Believe what you want, Grandma,” she said, even as she couldn't help but laugh at Charlotte's enthusiastic rendition of twenty questions. “No, you don't know this client, we're going to a place called Jack's Bar and Grill, yes, it's our first time meeting, and of course he's a nice young man. I wouldn't agree to meet with any client otherwise.”

“I'm not buying it.”

Lexie glanced at her watch. “Well, that's up to you. I have to go or I'll be late.” She blew her grandmother a kiss. “Love you.”

Charlotte smiled. “Have fun! And remember, do everything I'd do…and more!”

Lexie rolled her eyes and headed out the door for the date that wasn't a date but a business meeting—with the sexiest man she'd met in quite a while.

 

C
OOP'S CELL PHONE RANG
before he reached the door of Jack's Bar and Grill. Since he was early to meet with Lexie, he paused to take the call outside where it would be quieter.

“Coop here,” he said.

“This is Ricky Burnett. I own the Vintage Jewelers. I hear you saved my daughter and granddaughter's life.”

Coop wasn't sure he'd go that far. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time, Mr. Burnett.”

“Well thank you. I'm grateful,” the man said in a gruff voice.

“You're welcome.”

“But I need the ring back.”

The abrupt declaration took Coop off guard and at the mention of the ring, his instincts went on high alert.

“Dad!” Coop recognized the daughter's voice in the background.

“Hang on a minute,” Ricky said.

Coop kept the phone pushed against his ear, trying to hear what was being discussed on the other end. Considering that father and daughter were arguing, he didn't have any trouble eavesdropping.

“The nerve of you!” she scolded her father. “I told you that man saved our lives.”

“And I'm grateful, but you had no right giving him something from my private box of stuff!” Ricky said.

“You're a pack rat, Dad. There'd be more stuff in the drawer than in the store if it was up to you. It's a good thing I clean up once in a while! At least I make us a profit.”

“You've sold other things of mine?” Sounding outraged, Ricky raised his voice.

“It's not like you've ever noticed! Classic hoarding, I saw it on
Oprah
. Now tell Mr. Cooper you're sorry and let him keep his ring in peace.”

“You still there?” Ricky asked.

“I am.” Coop wasn't sure whether he was more amused or intrigued by Ricky Burnett.

“Look, I'll give you another reward if I can just have my ring back,” Ricky said, clearly ignoring his daughter.

So the ring meant something to the man. Did he know it was stolen? Had he played a role in the theft? Or was he just a hoarder, as his daughter said?

“You're impossible!” his daughter exclaimed. A loud slamming door sounded in the background.

Coop winced. “I'd really like to help you, Mr. Burnett, but I can't.”

“Hey!”

“I'm sorry, but I've got to run.” Coop disconnected, then patted the pocket where he'd placed the ring.

Sure he felt guilty about not returning it. Hell, he hadn't wanted to accept a reward in the first place. But armed with new information, Coop couldn't just
turn it over to Ricky Burnett. Who knew if Ricky was the rightful owner? And Lexie Davis also had an interest in that particular piece of jewelry.

There was obviously much more to this ring, and Coop's reporter's curiosity pulled at him, while the story tugged at the fiction writer inside him. Until he unraveled the mystery behind the theft, the ring stayed put.

L
IKE ITS OWNER
, Jack's Bar and Grill was vibrant and full of life. When Coop's mother died from a sudden brain aneurysm, not long after his father's retirement, Jack Cooper needed a substitute for the company and companionship his wife had provided. He'd found it in this bar and with his fellow cops who hung out here.

Coop walked into the place he considered his second home and was greeted by clapping and laughter, reminiscent of the newsroom immediately after the foiled robbery.

His brother, Matt, called out. “All hail the conquering hero!”

“Shut up,” Coop said to his older sibling.

“Would you rather I said next time leave the crime fighting to us?” Matt asked, chuckling.

Not particularly, Coop thought.

“Dad, get the hero a beer.”

Coop shook his head. He should have known that
picking Jack's as the place to meet Lexie was a mistake.

“Ignore your brother and come take a load off,” his father said. “He's just jealous the paper didn't pick him for the Bachelor Blog.” Jack slid a foaming glass across the bar.

“You read that crap?” Coop asked.

“On the way to the sports section,” his father muttered without meeting Coop's gaze.

Coop took a seat.

“So how's it been, being the city's darling?” Matt asked.

Coop described the box of trash he'd dumped earlier.

“Sounds like a real hardship. You threw every last one of them away? You didn't save even one of those lady's numbers?” he asked, shocked.

“Can I help it if I like my women sane?”

Matt inclined his head. “Good point. To sane women. Like Olivia,” he said of his wife of ten years.

Unlike Coop, marriage was another thing his brother had done well, following in their father's footsteps. Coop rarely dwelled on his failings, but sometimes it was hard not to compare.

Matt raised his beer glass and Coop met him in a toast.

They both then tipped their beer and swallowed a large gulp.

“So when's your next shift?” Coop asked.

“Tomorrow morning. So I thought I'd keep Dad company tonight.” Matt met Coop's gaze.

Both brothers ended up at Jack's more often than not under the pretext of wanting a drink. They were really checking up on their father, making sure he wasn't too lonely.

“In other words, his wife's sick of him,” their father said, having overheard Matt's comment.

He had a point, but both Matt and Coop knew old Jack appreciated having his sons stop by.

“How's work going for you?” Matt asked.

“Same old,” Coop said.

“Anything else new and exciting going on?”

Coop shook his head. “Except for the robbery and the damn Bachelor Blog, my life's pretty boring,” he lied.

Until Coop knew more about Lexie and her grandmother's connection to the ring, he felt compelled to keep the information to himself.

“So life as a hero and famous bachelor is boring, huh? Maybe you should'a taken the risk and become a cop,” Jack joked.

His father might be teasing, but the joke hit a raw nerve.

Coop had torn his rotator cuff playing football in high school, injuring it again while training at the academy. After surgery, the doctors had warned him
that most cops rarely recovered well enough from rotator cuff surgery to safely do the job required. Not to mention he'd be risking reinjuring the already weakened shoulder.

It nearly killed Coop to bail on the academy and the future his father had hoped both his sons would have. Joke or not, Coop didn't need the reminder that he'd disappointed his old man. He lived with the knowledge that he'd failed every damn day. So there was no way he'd admit to his father that, as much as he'd once loved his job as a reporter, he now found it too routine.

It was a sad commentary on life when the crime beat of muggings, robberies and stabbings became too ordinary to spark much interest. Coop had started out eager to report the news and make an impact in a way he never could have as a cop. He'd hoped that by reporting on crime he would increase public awareness and maybe spark outrage, eventually helping to save lives or catch criminals. Instead, it was a never-ending cycle of violence. A mundane repetition of the seedier side of human nature. He wasn't helping or changing things. He was just spreading the word.

Maybe that's why he enjoyed writing fiction so much. He could dictate the story arc, the plot, the characters and, most important, the outcome. He might not be making a difference in the world, but
he couldn't duplicate anywhere else the satisfaction he got from writing.

Problem was, he'd yet to find the kind of public success and validation in writing fiction he'd found in journalism and reporting. And in a family of successful men, Coop refused to fail.

“If I weren't already married, I'd think I'd found the woman of my dreams,” Matt said, his gaze suddenly glued to the front door.

Before Coop even turned around, he knew who had walked into the bar and a protective feeling he'd never experienced before washed over him.

A quick glance at Lexie, wearing a pastel-print summer dress, confirmed his hunch. The smart-girl glasses contrasted with the flirty outfit, making for an interesting contradiction. She was special. Unique.

“Maybe I'll welcome her to Jack's anyway.” Matt started toward her and Coop planted a firm hand on his brother's shoulder. “She's with me.”

Matt paused. “I thought none of the bimbos interested you?”

Coop stiffened. “Does she look like a bimbo to you?”

Matt laughed. “Relax. I'm happily married, remember?”

Coop loosened his hold. “Your next one's on me,” he said to his brother, hoping to smooth things over
without actually admitting he'd acted like an ass over a woman he barely knew.

“Sam?” Lexie called his name as she made her way toward them.

“You can go get that beer now,” Coop said to his brother.

Matt grinned. “Not just yet,
Sam
.”

Nobody called Coop by his first name except for his mother when she'd been alive.

“Sorry I'm late,” Lexie said.

“Not at all. Why don't we take a table in the back?” Coop suggested. A quiet place where they could discuss the ring and her grandmother's necklace without being overheard.

“Sounds good.”

“Aren't you going to introduce your date to your brother?” Matt interjected, a wide grin on his face.

Since there was no getting around it, Coop made the obligatory introductions. “Lexie Davis, this is my older brother, Matt Cooper.” Feeling the heat of his father's gaze, Coop continued, “And the old guy behind the bar is my father, Jack.”

“Nice to meet you both. I can see the family resemblance.” Lexie's warm smile encompassed all three men.

“I'll take that as a compliment,” Jack said. “So, pretty lady, are you one of those bachelorettes looking to hook up with the latest catch?” He nodded toward his son.

Coop cringed.

Lexie shook her head and laughed. “Oh, no. Not me. Sam and I have some business to discuss.”

“Is that right?” Matt asked, sounding too pleased for Coop's liking. “Because my brother led me to believe there was something more serious going on between you two.”

Coop had had enough. He placed his hand on the small of Lexie's back, leading her to a far booth, away from his prying family.

“I'm sorry. My father and brother seem to think everything is their business.”

“You think they're bad? You should meet my grandmother.” She shook her head and laughed.

“Do you want something to eat or drink?”

She shrugged. “Maybe just an iced tea and some chips?”

“Easy enough in a bar.” Coop excused himself, placed an order with his father, who promised to send the drinks and chips over.

He rejoined Lexie, easing into the seat across from her. Thanks to the small seating area, his knees grazed hers beneath the table.

“So, I have to ask.” She paused and bit down on her lightly glossed lips. “What did your brother mean, you led him to believe there was more than business between us?” She rested both elbows on the table and leaned in close.

Her eyes, which he could now see were a golden brown, were full of curiosity and focused solely on him.

She was upfront. He liked that about her.

“Let's just say I let him know not only were you
with me,
but that yes, I'm interested in more than just business.”

“I see.” A smile curved her lips. A pleased smile.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said, eager to learn more about her personally.

“Not much to tell. I'm a world traveler and a Web designer.”

The traveler part he could live without. The Web designer he definitely found intriguing. “What are some sites you've done, so I can check them out?”

A waitress who'd worked for Jack for years interrupted them only long enough to place their drinks and a basket of tortilla chips on the table.

“Let's see,” she said when they were finally alone again. “I've designed quite a few small Web sites you might not know of, but I've also created the Hot Zone and Athlete's Only Web pages. Have you heard of them?” she asked.

“I'm a huge baseball fan. Renegades especially, so of course I know of the biggest sports agency in Manhattan. And I'm suitably impressed with your portfolio, I might add.” He raised his glass and touched hers before taking a long sip of cold beer.

“Why, thank you,” she said, obviously pleased. “But if you do take a look, you should know that both sites are due for an overhaul. We're currently working on them behind the scenes.”

“We?”

“Claudia, my assistant. She frees me up for the design and creative portions of my work, and she also keeps updates going while I travel.” Lexie adjusted her glasses. “So tell me more about you, Mr. Bachelor,” she said, teasing him.

“Didn't you see enough of my exciting life out at the Dumpster?”

She laughed. “You've got a point. Although, I must admit, it's refreshing to see a guy who isn't a slave to the attention of fawning women.”

They continued their easy banter. As they got to know each other, the tables quickly filled up around them. Luckily, the crowd would keep his father busy, and it appeared that Matt's partner had shown up, occupying his brother, too.

“So do you want to see the picture of my grandmother's necklace?” Lexie asked.

Before he could reply, she withdrew a photograph from her purse and handed it to him. The older woman in the photo had red hair and what could only be described as a mischievous gleam in her eye. As for the necklace, it definitely appeared similar in style to his ring.

Yet it was the rest of the older woman's outfit that captured Coop's attention. “I hope you don't think this is an odd question, but why is she wearing a housecoat with such an elaborate piece of jewelry?”

Lexie's laugh was infectious, and she used it freely and often. “I've asked myself that question many times. Grandma never wears certain jewelry outside of the house. She says it's because it has more sentimental value than anything else. Does it look like a match?”

He pulled the ring from his pocket and held it out to her. She leaned closer, examining the ring he held between his thumb and forefinger. “Bingo!” she exclaimed. “Can I see it?”

“Of course.”

She held out her hand for him to slip the ring on, which he did, then watched in amusement as she admired the ring on her finger. “A unique piece,” she murmured. “Much like the necklace.” She smiled and placed the ring on the table between them.

She didn't check out the insignia the way his style editor had, which told Coop that Lexie's interest was more personal than financial. “How long has your grandmother owned the necklace?” he asked.

Lexie shrugged. “She's had it for as long as I can remember. My grandfather gave it to her years ago,”
she said wistfully. “Did the store owner give you any information about the ring?”

Coop shook his head. “She didn't say a word. It was just sitting in a tray along with other items she didn't mind giving away.”

Lexie folded her hands in front of her. Delicate hands with pale pink polish on her nails, and a grouping of bracelets dangling from her right wrist. “I suppose you're wondering why I sought you out.”

“The thought has crossed my mind.”

“I'd like to buy the ring from you as a gift for my grandmother's eightieth birthday.”

He hadn't known what to expect from Lexie, but her wanting to purchase the ring caught him off guard. Another person interested in what had started out as a gaudy piece of junk.

Coop cleared his throat. “I'm sorry, but I can't begin to put a price on it. According to the style editor at the paper where I work, it's worth more than I thought or frankly hoped when I picked it from the tray.”

Lexie cocked her head to one side. Even behind the glasses, she pierced him with her steady gaze, indicating that he'd pissed her off.

“Why didn't you just say that when I asked you what you knew about the ring?” she asked.

“You asked me what the store owner said about
the ring and I told you.” He just hadn't admitted he'd already discovered more.

He disliked being on the other side of questioning and squirmed in his seat. “Hey, it's not like I know you well enough to trust you with all my secrets,” he said in an attempt at humor.

She frowned. “You know me well enough to decide you're attracted to me,” she reminded him, leaning back in her seat, clearly waiting for him to say more.

She wasn't letting him off easily.

She also had a point. He
was
attracted to her. Especially the way her breasts pushed upward in the low-cut dress, revealing more than a sexy hint of cleavage for view.