Kiss Me If You Can (12 page)

Coop's satisfied expression made Lexie uneasy. “How do you know she doesn't remember? Maybe she's telling the truth. Ever think of that, Mr. Hotshot Reporter?” Defending her grandmother came naturally to Lexie. She'd done it often enough with her parents over the years, offering explanations for her over-the-top behavior. Now was no different.

Coop exhaled a frustrated groan. “Every time the Lancaster name comes up, your grandmother either changes the subject or gets sick.”

“She said she was
warm,
Coop. Not sick.”

“As a diversion maybe? I can't prove it or explain it, but I have a hunch that she knows more than she's saying.”

Much as Lexie wanted to deny Coop's belief and continue in her defense, she wondered about the possible truth in his words.

Her grandmother
had
been acting odd lately. The woman had a memory like a steel trap for the most minute details from the past, and Lexie had seen no indications that Charlotte was getting forgetful. Except for this convenient memory lapse. And what were the chances Charlotte had forgotten the name of the family her grandfather worked for, let alone gotten her beloved necklace from?

Lexie shifted in her seat, uneasy but unwilling to admit as much to Coop, who had his own agenda. She had no intention of helping him build a case—or a book—about her family. Whichever member happened to be involved.

He cleared his throat, obviously waiting for her to say more. “How about we agree not to discuss this right now. Instead we just continue digging into
facts
.” Lexie would deal with whatever she discovered, as long as it was truth and not fiction or a reporter's hunch.

“Fair enough.” Coop braced his hands on the top of the chair.

“First stop the Vintage Jewelers?” she asked. “After we each work this afternoon.”

He inclined his head. “And then we go to Dad's bar for dinner.”

Lexie immediately shook her head. Dinner with Coop, alone time, intimate time, no longer seemed like a smart idea. Even if she wanted him as much, if not more than she had before, their competing agendas made any kind of relationship just plain stupid.

Coop stood. “Suit yourself. I just want to see if he can get us access to the old case files on the robbery.”

Not a dinner
date.
She'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. Embarrassment warred with disappointment, even though she'd turned him down.

She didn't want him investigating without her. “Umm, I can move some things around and go with you.” She bit the inside of her cheek hard.

“Great. I'll make sure Dad has a table waiting.” He winked at her.

And that's when she knew. He'd cornered her into exactly what she'd been trying to avoid. Intimate, alone time with a man she craved like crazy. She wasn't as annoyed as she should have been, which probably made her insane.

 

R
ICKY HID IN THE BACK
of his own store, feeling more like a sneak than he had back in the day. He'd just come from the bank, leaving Anna in charge. He'd returned unannounced via the back entrance just as
they'd
walked in the front. He'd heard the chimes signaling customers and peered through the curtains separating the store from the office.

He hadn't recognized them right off. No, sir, they'd tried to disguise themselves, but he'd heard their voices when they'd asked about the ring Anna had given to that damn reporter and Ricky
knew
. He didn't have a plan yet, so he eavesdropped, watching and listening as his daughter fielded their questions.

“We saw the robbery on the news. It must have been so frightening for you.”

Because he was named Ricky, the women had taken on nicknames when they'd all been a team. The one he'd nicknamed Lucy spoke first. Apparently, things hadn't changed. She was still the ring-leader of the two. The other had been Ethel, the best friend and follower.

“I was just glad the robber didn't hurt my daughter,” Anna said, her voice catching.

Ricky still broke into a sweat at the reminder that something could have happened to his daughter and granddaughter, the only things he'd done right in this lifetime.

Up front, the talk turned to families, seemingly normal conversation since most old people who came in to browse liked to chat about themselves. Not Ricky. He'd always been private, which had kept him out of trouble all these years. But he listened with interest, curious despite himself about his ex-partners' lives. Apparently, Lucy was widowed and had one child and Ethel was a widow
without kids to keep her company in her old age. And, of course, they had each other, they explained to Anna, patting each other's hands. It was all Ricky could do not to puke.

He couldn't tell if the years had been kinder to them than they had to him, thanks to the scarves tied around their heads and the large black sunglasses covering half their faces.

Ricky almost laughed out loud and gave himself away.

“We're curious about the ring you gave that handsome reporter,” Ethel chimed in, pulling Ricky's thoughts back to the matter at hand.

“You know, he's been named the latest Bachelor,” Lucy said.

Still reading the gossip columns, Ricky thought to himself.

“He really didn't want to take a reward, but I insisted. He finally chose the ring. Whatever you want to know, I can't tell you much about it,” Anna said.

Good girl, Ricky thought.

“Not even where you got it?” Ethel asked.

“You'd have to talk to my father. The ring was just one of many trinkets he collected over the years. I'm afraid he's something of a pack rat.”

“I'll just bet he is,” Lucy muttered.

“Excuse me?” Anna asked, surprised by her comment.

The old battle-ax. Still as feisty as ever.

“I said, I'll just bet he is. I saw on
Oprah
how more people than we realize have that serious psychological disorder. It can lead to hoarding,” Lucy explained in a more serious tone.

Anna sighed. “I know. That's why I periodically sell things when Dad isn't looking.”

“Is your father around?” Ethel asked, sounding nervous now.

“No, he went to the bank, but he should be back soon if you'd like to stay and talk to him,” Anna offered.

Good thing Ricky had never remembered to put chimes on the back door as well as the front. Not even his daughter knew he'd returned.

“No, thank you,” Lucy said. “We need to be going.”

Ricky nodded. Yes, yes they did. Get out. Go away. Never come back.

“Oh, wait! Is that your father?” Ethel asked.

Ricky shut his eyes and swallowed a groan. On the wall behind Anna was a photograph.

“Yes, it is. That's my dad and Ed Koch, back when he was mayor of NewYork,” Anna said proudly.

Ricky still recalled the night they'd met at a restaurant and his wife, bless her soul, had insisted that he and the mayor pose together. She'd later had the photo enlarged and framed. Then she'd hung it on the wall.

Ricky had forgotten all about it until now. The innocent picture gave Lucy and Ethel all the information they needed—that this was Ricky's store and the ring hadn't been passed around through the years, but had stayed in his hands.

The telephone rang and Anna excused herself to take the call. The phone was right behind her so she didn't have to come into the back, thank God.

“It was taken a long time ago,” Ethel said. “But he was aging already.” Ricky caught the glee in her tone.

“And not well. Look at that paunch. He's balding and that comb-over is laughable.”

Lucy always was a bitch, Ricky thought, his hand going to the top of his now completely bald head. Behind those disguises he doubted they looked like cover models these days, either.

“I'm sorry for the interruption,” Anna said, returning. “Did you like the ring? Maybe I can find you something similar.”

“No, thank you. It was such an interesting-looking piece, we were just curious about its history,” Lucy said. “But it was nice chatting with you, dear.”

“Same here. Come back any time. You can talk to my father or maybe there will be something new that interests you!” Anna said in her cheery sales-woman voice.

Normally, Ricky was proud of her ability. Now, though, he cringed.

The jig was up.

He started to sweat, his mind whirling with scenarios of how to deal with the two women when the time came and they cornered him. And he knew for certain they would.

His gut—which had always told him when to do a job and when to get out—had warned him to be prepared for one of them to find him. Not both together. They'd been best friends until that night he'd gotten his kicks with Ethel. The last time Ricky had seen them they'd been rolling around the bedroom floor in what would be called a catfight these days.

Over him.

Coward that he was, he'd slipped out while they were still going at it. All these years he'd assumed they were enemies. Apparently, he'd been wrong, which made his situation even more precarious.

United, those two could make a grown man wet his pants.

L
EXIE AND
C
OOP
struck out at the Vintage Jewelers. Anna told them her father had taken a sudden trip out of town. Gone fishing, she'd said, shaking her head, her annoyance clear. Until he returned, they'd get no new information on that end. Lexie hoped they did better asking Coop's father for a favor.

Only Coop had forgotten it was Ladies' Night at his father's bar. The place was crowded and the older Cooper was busy serving drinks. That meant Lexie and Coop had to hang out until things slowed down and Jack had time to talk. Thankfully, he had saved them the same table in the back.

Since she didn't know anyone at the bar and she had work to do, Lexie settled in. Coop went to order drinks and made the rounds, saying hello to people and chatting it up. Thanks to the preponderance of women hanging around and Coop's status as the Bachelor, all the ladies surrounded him, stopping to make conversation and gauge his interest. To his credit, his body language didn't lead any of the
women on, but Lexie couldn't control the jealousy coursing through her anyway.

Deciding that the green monster didn't suit her, she pulled out her laptop and started to make notes on ideas she had for his site. Words that described him and his work. Though she still needed to read his novel, the
feel
of the site was something that came naturally to her. She always started with a color scheme, so she pulled up Pantone charts and from there it was easy to narrow down the ones that worked for her, but she picked a variety so he'd have a choice.

“You're back a second time. That's impressive. So my brother hasn't scared you away.” Matt Cooper pulled up a chair and joined her.

She forced a smile, mostly because she was still stinging over the subject of Coop's next book. “Your brother and I have
business
together.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. The inquisitive look gave him a resemblance to his brother, but not enough to eclipse Coop in the looks department. Matt was handsome, just not as drop-dead sexy as Coop. At least in Lexie's biased opinion.

“Personal business or private?” he asked.

Lexie rolled her eyes. “What is it with you Cooper brothers and asking questions?”

“It's in the blood.” Matt grinned. “So?”

Lexie decided he wouldn't give up without an
honest answer. “Both. But right now I'm working on his Web site.” She didn't intend to reveal anything about the mystery of the ring. That was for Coop to do, not her.

“What kind of Web site does he need?” Matt asked, seemingly confused.

“He's a published author. Author's need Web sites.” Wasn't that obvious? she wondered.

Matt's eyes opened wide and he let out a laugh. “Come on. His mystery writing is just a
hobby.
He's a crime reporter. That's what he does.”

If Matt believed that, then he didn't know his brother well at all. Though she ought to bite her tongue, she couldn't. “Have you read his book?”

She should have bitten it harder.

“I'm not much of a reader.” Matt glanced down at the scarred wooden table. At least he seemed embarrassed by his lack of interest.

“Did you buy a copy to support him?” Lexie pushed.

He squirmed in his seat.

Clearly he didn't enjoy being on the other end of an interrogation, she thought, amused.

“They didn't print many copies. The book was hard to find,” he finally replied.

Her amusement faded. “Not very brotherly of you.” She reached into her oversize bag and pulled out the copy she'd taken from Coop's apartment.
“Here. Read it.” She shoved the book into his hand. She'd just have to get herself another one.

To her surprise, he burst out laughing. “I can see why my brother likes you. Beautiful, smart and loyal.”

“You make me sound like a puppy dog!”

“Not at all. Just a step—make that an entire staircase—up from Coop's ex-wife. And not just because you're here in the flesh.”

Lexie didn't want to get into a discussion of Coop's airline stewardess wife's traveling. “I'll take that as a compliment.” She hoped Matt would leave it at that.

Coop walked over, joining them in what Lexie thought was just the nick of time. “Am I interrupting?” he asked, his gaze wandering from Lexie and landing squarely on Matt.

The flash of annoyance in his eyes told her he wasn't immune to the jealousy she'd experienced minutes earlier.

“I was just keeping the lady company. And now I need to get home to my wife.” Matt took his time rising from his seat. He slapped his brother on the back, winked at Lexie and strode away laughing.

“Pain in the ass,” Coop muttered. “I ordered burgers, fries and drinks. I hope that's okay.”

Her stomach suddenly rumbled and she grinned. “Perfect, actually.”

For the next few minutes, while they waited for
the food to be served, Lexie and Coop discussed the tone he was looking for his Web site to convey. He took a brief look at the color combinations she'd come up with, but the bar lighting wasn't good enough for him to make an informed choice, so they tabled the discussion for another time.

Then they enjoyed dinner while talking about things in general, nothing about the ring or her grandmother or anything threatening. They confirmed they shared similar taste in music and movies, since Lexie preferred action thrillers to chick flicks and they each loved a good comedy.

Being with Coop was easier than being with any man she could remember and the sexual tension was ever present. She might still be annoyed with him, but she couldn't deny how much she wanted him.

He pushed his plate away and leaned back in his seat. “I'm stuffed.”

She laughed. “Me, too. Your father makes a delicious burger.”

“Make sure you tell him that.” Suddenly he reached down for his phone, which had obviously been vibrating. He checked the incoming number and took the call. “Coop here.” He listened, his relaxed demeanor changing in an instant. “Be there soon,” he said and hung up.

“Work?” she guessed.

He nodded. “Assignment. Big fire uptown. I need
to go.” He didn't try to escape his responsibility and she'd never think to ask him to.

“I can get myself home. I have plenty of reading to do to keep myself busy,” she said, then caught herself. “Actually…”

“What?”

“I gave your brother my copy of your book.”

“You what?” Coop asked, shocked by Lexie's words. “Why the hell would you do that?” And why the hell would Matt take it?

He'd never shown any interest in Coop's writing before. And since Coop's first effort was hardly a smashing success, he hadn't exactly made a big announcement about it, either. But his family knew. His father had a signed copy at home that Coop had given him, but he doubted the old man had ever read it. And Matt had never shown any interest in his brother's
hobby,
so why bother setting himself up for ridicule?

And why was he even having this conversation with Lexie now when he had a story to cover? “Here.” He pulled out the keys to his apartment. “Why don't you go back to my place? There's a box of my book in the hall closet. You can read one of those and wait for me while I'm gone. I'll talk to my father about access to the cold case files later or first thing tomorrow.”

She hesitated, so he took her hand and placed the
keys in her palm, curling her fingers around them. “You're not going to avoid what's a damn good thing between us because you're still upset with me.”

She glanced down at her hand. “I'm not, huh?” A smile curved her lips, telling him he'd won this round.

“Nope. We'll discuss that—and the fact that you gave my brother my book—later. At my place.” He brushed a kiss over her lips and ran out to cover the story.

 

L
EXIE ENJOYED NOTHING MORE
than munching cookie-dough-flavored ice cream while she read or worked, so she stopped at the store for a pint on her way back to Coop's apartment. As she reached the entrance, Sara, dressed in uniform, was on her way out.

“Hey there.” The other woman waved. “Coop's not home.”

Lexie hesitated, then revealed the keys.

Sara's eyes opened wide. “Well, well, well.” A genuine smiled crossed her face. “He must really care about you.”

“You sound as if you approve.”

Sara laughed. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Only because Sara couldn't see what was going on inside Lexie. Between the worry over her grandmother's blood pressure, the possibility that she was somehow involved in a years-old theft
and Coop's intent to write a tell-all story, she felt as if the walls were closing in on her. Add Sara's wide smile of approval and the mounting pressure only increased.

A few more minutes of chitchat and Sara left for work. Lexie let herself into Coop's apartment, found the box of books and pulled one out.

Before she settled in to read, she took out her laptop and began browsing some of the places in the world she'd yet to visit.

Viewing potential destinations calmed her down somewhat. It helped that she now had places in mind for when this entire jewel-heist situation came to an end. By then, the Hot Zone relaunch would be done and Lexie would have a good chunk of cash to split between savings and travel. Hopefully, her grandmother's blood pressure would be under control, too, her computer knowledge solid enough for them to exchange e-mails, and Lexie could go in peace, even if she didn't stay away as long as usual. As her grandmother aged, Lexie had cut her trips shorter, coming back more often to see her.

And what about Coop?

Given his determination to write this story, she shouldn't care. But she was here despite that because he was right. Writer's wrote. She didn't have to like it, but she couldn't stop him, either. And she couldn't deny herself the pleasure of his company while they
researched together. But she had no doubts that once she took off on her first excursion, he wouldn't be waiting for her when she came home.

A shiver took hold at the thought. But it wasn't stronger than the desire to go.

 

C
OOP DIDN'T GET HOME
until 2:00 a.m. Exhausted, he climbed the stairs to his building, fully expecting Lexie to be sound asleep in his bed. He couldn't think of a sweeter thing to come home to at night, and the thought pulled him up short.

He grabbed on to the handrail and paused, wondering how he'd gotten to this point so fast. He breathed in deep to calm his rapidly beating heart and reminded himself not to get used to having her around. Looking forward to coming home to Lexie was a sure path to heartache.

Enjoy the here and now. With that thought firmly in mind, he let himself into his apartment.

“Hey!” he said, surprised to find the light in the living room still on and Lexie curled up on the couch reading his book.

She barely glanced up as he walked into the room.

“It's late.”

“I know. But I'm almost finished.” She waved him away.

She'd changed into one of his V-neck T-shirts. It hung low on her smaller frame and her cleavage was
visible. He wished she'd give him the attention she was focusing on his damn book, but a part of him was pleased that she was so engrossed in his story.

He turned into bed with the light still glowing in the other room, knowing she was drawn in but curious how she really felt about his abilities. Because in the one area of his life that meant the most to him, Coop was petrified of failing.

 

C
OOP WOKE UP
to find Lexie, hands cupped behind her head, staring at the ceiling. Morning was one of the few times he could look at her without her glasses and he savored the sight before she realized he was awake, too. She didn't spend much time in the sun and she had fair, porcelain-like skin with a hint of freckles over her nose and cheeks.

He reached out and ran his fingertip over the small bridge of her nose. “Been up long?”

“Not really.” She smiled and rolled onto her side, propping herself up with one hand.

“What time did you finally turn in last night?”

“Not long after you, but you were already out cold.”

He nodded. He'd crashed like a dead man, exhausted from the hours on his feet and from inhaling the smoke from the deliberately set fire.

He was still feeling the effects this morning. “Why are you up so early?”

“I don't need more than six hours' sleep.”

In his line of work, his hours were unpredictable so he'd learned to operate on less sleep, too. “So, are you going to tell me what you thought of the book?” He asked the question weighing on his mind since his eyes opened and his brain cleared.

A slow smile crossed her lips. “I couldn't put it down.”

That much he knew. “And?”

“You write a really compelling story, Coop. The mystery kept me hooked, the characters were true to life, the tension incredible. It was a real page-turner!”

She said all the right things, but he sensed more going on behind those intelligent eyes. “What are you not saying?” he asked, wondering when he'd become a glutton for punishment.

He had a beautiful woman in his bed, complimenting his work, yet he was pushing for more.

She scooted into a sitting position facing him. “Okay, here's the thing.”

He eased himself against the headboard and braced for criticism he probably wouldn't like. Never mind that he'd asked for it.

“I had problems with the setting,” she said hesitantly, clearly unsure of whether to go on.

“It's okay. I can take it,” he motioned with his hands. “Give it to me.”

She ran her tongue over her lips. His brain cau
tioned not to be distracted by the sight. His body didn't listen and a morning hard-on took hold.

“It's just that… Okay, well take that scene in East Harlem where the cop is looking for his prime suspect. We're in his head, we know how raw and emotional his feelings are and why. But what does he see on the street?” She waved her hands animatedly in the air as she spoke. “It could have taken place anywhere. It needs the color and the flavor of the place itself. The words need to jump off the page. Have you ever been there?” she asked.