Kiss Me If You Can (7 page)

By four o'clock, they'd finished their cleanup work and she glanced around, pleased with all they'd accomplished. “We make quite a team.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

He stretched his arms overhead, groaning as he moved. “I couldn't have done this by myself,” he admitted.

“So imagine how much we'll get accomplished when we start working on the stolen jewels.” She pointedly reminded him that they had another goal to start on as soon as possible. “What's your schedule look like?” she asked.

“Tomorrow I'm back to work, which leaves evenings, unless a big story breaks.”

“Sounds good to me. I have an appointment at the Hot Zone tomorrow and I wanted to get a head start on some ideas I had for their new site. I can meet up with you later in the day or early evening. So what's the plan?” she asked.

He raised his eyebrows. “Plan?”

Why did he have to look so stupefied? It was a simple question. “I watch
Cold Case.
And this is as
cold as they come, but you're an intrepid reporter who digs up stories all the time. So I'm sure you have a plan of action for us, right?”

He shook his head and laughed. “One step at a time, Sherlock. I haven't had a chance to think that far ahead. I've been a little preoccupied with this.” He swept his hand around the apartment.

Her cell phone vibrated and Lexie let out a groan. “My grandmother,” she muttered, glancing at the incoming text.
Dinner. Bring him. 6 p.m.
She closed her eyes and prayed for patience.

“What's wrong?” Coop asked.

“She wants you to come over for dinner tonight, but don't worry about it. I'll take care of it.”

“I'll go with you.”

Lexie narrowed her gaze. “Why in the world would you want to do that?”

“I want to meet the woman who's taken such good care of you.”

How could she refuse such a heartfelt declaration? “On one condition.”

He raised his eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

“Help me convince her we're not really engaged.”

“Done.” He shook her hand to seal the deal. Sizzling electricity crackled between them, reminding her that as much as he'd tried to place distance between them, there was chemistry that would not be denied.

 

“D
O YOU HAVE ALLERGIES
?” Lexie asked Coop as they stepped off an old elevator and strode down the dark hall.

That was an strange question, he thought. “No. Why?”

She inserted her key in the lock, opened the apartment door and the heavy smell of violets nearly bowled him over.

“Whoa.” He waved his hand in front of his nose.

“That's why.” Lexie laughed. “Don't worry. You'll get used to it. Ready?” Before he could answer, she stepped inside, pulling him along with her. “Grandma, we're here!” Lexie called out.

“I'm in the kitchen. I'll be right out!”

“Come on in,” Lexie said, leading him into the dimly lit apartment.

He glanced around, taking in the dark décor accentuated by varying shades of gold. Heavy, closed draperies covered the windows and large paintings with brassy frames and matching sconces hung on the walls.

“Be it ever so humble…Grandma has lived here since she married my grandfather.” Lexie swept her arm around.

“Raised my son here. Lexie now uses his old room,” Charlotte said, joining them.

The photograph hadn't done the older woman
justice. She beamed happiness and radiated life. Everything about her was
more.
Her hair was redder, her makeup bolder. Her housecoat was colorful, more kimono than pajamalike, making him feel like he was facing Auntie Mame in the flesh. But his biggest surprise was the necklace around her neck.
The
necklace, which in person, looked exactly like his ring.

Coop hadn't been able to sleep much last night and early this morning. While tossing and turning, he'd searched for a way to authenticate the ring without bringing the cold case to anyone's attention. He'd finally figured out who to go to and, despite the early hour, he'd called in a favor.

A South African man Coop had met years ago was a highly respected jewelry appraiser. He'd also been a fence in his home country, something Coop had learned during an investigation. The tidbit of information wasn't relevant to any case at hand, but it had led to a mutual understanding between Coop and said appraiser. Anything he heard about what was happening in the black market, he fed to Coop first.

Before Lexie even arrived earlier that morning, Coop had met him at his store and had the ring appraised. At least Coop had confirmation of the ring's identity. Something he still had to share with Lexie when the time was right.

“I'm Charlotte Davis.” She grasped his hand,
pumping it in a firm shake. “And you must be Sam Cooper, Hero, Bachelor and now my granddaughter's fiancé!”

“Grandma, cut that out! I've been telling you all day we're not engaged.” Lexie shot Coop an
I told you so
look, and, as if to prove her point, Lexie held out her left hand, revealing her ringless fingers to her grandmother.

“Well, I wouldn't wear the ring out in public, either, if I were you. Too valuable.” In a not-so-subtle gesture, she fingered the gaudy piece of jewelry around her frail neck. “You have good taste, young man.” She winked at Cooper.

“She doesn't take
we're not engaged
for an answer,” Lexie said, her frustration mounting. “Coop, tell her we're not engaged.”

“Can I get you two a drink?” Charlotte asked too quickly.

Coop shrugged. Obviously, the older woman didn't want to hear it. “I'd love something to drink, Mrs. Davis.”

“Call me Charlotte. After all, we're practically family!” She paused. Her golden eyes, so similar to Lexie's, lit up. “Which means you can actually call me—”

“Charlotte!” Lexie jumped in before her grandmother could come up with a more familiar term.

The other woman inclined her head. “I suppose
Charlotte will do for now. I'll go get the champagne, so we can toast and celebrate!”

She darted out of the room and he caught a glimpse of her slippers, red with fur trim, which matched her dress. Housecoat. Kimono. Whatever it was she was wearing.

“She is a piece of work,” Coop said, truly admiring her spunk.

“I tried to get you out of it, but now that you're here she's reveling. And you promised to help me convince her we're not engaged, so stop humoring her.” But Lexie grinned, finding her grandmother amusing despite it all.

“Does she try to make a permanent match with all the men in your life?” Coop asked, a stab of jealousy striking him in the heart at the thought.

“No. This is unusual even for her,” Lexie mused. “What can I say? You're special and have been from the minute she saw you on television picking out the ring.”

Charlotte returned with three glasses of champagne on a small tray, balancing them with ease.

Once everyone held their glass, Charlotte raised hers.
“L'Chaim.”

“That means, ‘To Life' in Hebrew,” Lexie whispered.

“I didn't know you were Jewish.”

She shook her head. “We're not. Grandma's best
friend Sylvia is, and she picked up some Hebrew and Yiddish over the years.”

The toast seemed safe enough, and Coop touched his glass first to Charlotte's, then to Lexie's. “And to beautiful women and good company,” he added.

“He's a keeper,” Charlotte said, nudging Lexie in the ribs. “Let's move this into the kitchen. It's time to eat!”

The kitchen was a brighter room than the rest of the apartment, cozy and comfortable. As she served, Charlotte chatted about everything and anything, from Lexie's amazing Web design talent to her own attempt to learn how to navigate the Internet.

She'd served the food, a pale-looking meat loaf, gravy on the side, mashed potatoes and green beans, piling each plate with generous portions.

“What's wrong with the meat loaf, Gran? Did you forget to season it?” Lexie asked, pushing the meat around her plate while eating the side dishes instead.

“I've been experimenting with lower-cholesterol foods. It's ground turkey, not chopped meat,” the older woman explained.

Lexie narrowed her gaze.

Even through the dark frames on her glasses, Coop noticed the worry lines between her brows.

“Since when do you have to worry about high cholesterol?”

“Since my doctor called with my latest blood tests, but there's nothing to worry about, so eat!” Charlotte proceeded to follow her own words.

“How high?” Lexie asked.

“Not as high as my blood pressure.” Charlotte covered her full mouth as she spoke. “So, Coop, tell me about your family,” she said, in a clear attempt to change the subject.

Lexie lowered her fork to the table. “We're not finished discussing this.”

“There's nothing to discuss. I'm watching my diet and taking new pills. My blood pressure will go down even more when I'm certain you are happily settled with your new man.” Charlotte waved her silverware at Coop. “So, back to your family—is your father retired?”

Coop shot a worried glance Lexie's way. She'd set her jaw, but she gave Coop a small nod, indicating he should just humor her. Obviously, she'd deal with her grandmother's health issues later.

“My father's a retired cop,” Coop said.

“Ooh, I love men in uniform!”

Lexie slipped off her glasses and placed them on the table, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Coop decided to keep the easy subject going. “These days my dad owns a bar downtown. It keeps him busy since my mother died.”

“Got any siblings?”

Lexie rolled her eyes. “It's like the Grand Inquisition.”

Coop laughed. “One brother.”

Charlotte placed her knife and fork on her plate. “So your mother went for two, huh? One was all the domesticity I could stand, especially since my son was practically born wearing a three-piece suit. How someone like me ended up with a stuffed shirt for a child, I'll never know. I love him, but he's not a load of laughs, that one. Speaking of your father, he called for you earlier.”

Lexie sighed. “I hit ignore on my cell phone,” she admitted. “I'll call him back later.”

“How often do you speak to him?” Coop asked.

She shrugged. “I call my parents once a week out of obligation. It always ends up in an argument about something. We just can't see eye to eye on anything.”

“It's their way or no way,” Charlotte said, echoing Lexie's description.

“They live about forty minutes from here, but in reality the distance between us is much further. I see them about once a month. Now can we please change the subject?” Lexie asked.

Coop glanced down at his plate, realizing that during the discussion he'd finished his entire meal. “You turkey meat loaf is delicious. Thank you,” he said.

Charlotte beamed. “You're welcome. Now let's
get down to the nitty-gritty. If I'm going to trust you with my granddaughter's future, I need to know all about you. Any skeletons in your closet?”

This was the point where he should remind Charlotte that they really weren't engaged, but with her health revelation, he didn't want to upset her. What harm was there in letting her push her agenda? He and Lexie knew the truth, while Charlotte merely appeared to be amusing herself, more than putting too much stock in their words.

He was about to answer that, no, he had no hidden skeletons, when he realized there was something he hadn't told Lexie. Since they were sharing information, he figured, why not reveal it now?

“There's an ex-wife in my closet.”

Lexie coughed, then met his gaze, clearly intrigued by the information.

Charlotte perched her chin in her hand. “Do tell.”

“Yes, do,” Lexie murmured.

“Why would any woman let you become an ex?” Charlotte stared pointedly at her granddaughter.

“She was a flight attendant whose travel was everything to her,” he said without meeting Lexie's gaze.

Charlotte leaned in closer. “What happened to make her an ex?”

Lexie groaned.

“She left me for one of her coworkers.” And with
that revelation, Coop was finished with the personal inquisition. “Time to turn the tables, Mrs. Davis.”

“It's Charlotte, remember?

He grinned. “Charlotte. Tell me about the necklace you're wearing. The one that matches my ring.”

C
OOP WAS A SLY ONE
, dropping a bombshell then expecting them all to switch gears, Lexie thought. Well, fine. She wanted to know more about the necklace as much as he did, but she wasn't going to drop the subject of his ex-wife, either.

Cheating flight attendant, she thought in frustration. Was it any wonder he had an aversion to Lexie's lifestyle choices?

“The necklace?” Coop prompted Charlotte, bringing Lexie back to the matter at hand.

“My husband and I had been married for about three years and my son was a year old when he gave me the necklace,” Charlotte said in a wistful voice.

“Did he say where he got it, Grandma?”

Charlotte's gaze slid to the photograph of her husband, Henry Davis, in military uniform that she kept on the table by her favorite chair. “He received it as payment for work done. You see, before the draft for the Korean War, he was a chauffeur for a wealthy family, but they'd fallen on some hard times.
Your grandfather, bless his soul, agreed to accept jewelry instead of cash.” She lovingly fingered the necklace around her neck.

“Do you happen to know the name of the family who gave it to him?” Coop asked.

Lexie hadn't thought of that question. Then again he was the reporter.

“Heavens, no. My memory isn't that good anymore.”

Lexie frowned. Her grandmother was still sharp and she had fantastic recall for most things.

Suddenly, from somewhere long ago, a memory surfaced for Lexie. “I remember Sylvia once mentioning that Grandpa drove for the Lancaster family. Remember when they filed for bankruptcy? Because they owned a lot of real estate in the city, it hit the news.” She glanced at her grandmother.

Charlotte shook her head. “No, I don't remember that at all,” she said and turned to Coop. “What about the ring the store owner gave
you?
Did she say where it originally came from?” Charlotte asked.

Lexie had already asked Coop the exact same question.

He shook his head. “She didn't say anything about it.”

And since they'd agreed not to mention that the jewelry had been stolen, he left it at that.

“Well, is there any chance I can see the ring? I
didn't know it existed, but now that I do…” She turned to Coop with pleading eyes.

“It's in a safe deposit box.”

Charlotte let out a disappointed sigh.

“Well, maybe one day,” he hedged.

To Lexie, it seemed as if he were putting her grandmother off.

But his ploy went over Charlotte's head, because without warning, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Oh, thank you!” she exclaimed.

He awkwardly patted her back, all the while sending SOS signals to Lexie.

“Okay, Grandma, you can let Coop go now. It's time for him to leave.”

Charlotte peeled herself off him.

“Why don't you go lie down,” Lexie suggested, still unnerved by the news that her grandmother had high cholesterol and high blood pressure. “I'll walk Coop out and then I'll clean up for you.”

“If you're sure you don't mind…”

Lexie pulled her grandmother into a hug, trying to convince herself that she didn't suddenly feel frailer just because Lexie now knew about her medical issues.

“Thank you for dinner, Mrs.—I mean Charlotte. The food was delicious, but the company was even better.” Coop pressed a kiss to the back of Charlotte's hand.

The gentlemanly gesture sent shivers of awareness coursing down Lexie's spine. Although she thought she could read people pretty well, he'd had her baffled since this afternoon. From that sizzling kiss to the way he'd pulled back after lunch, to his surprising willingness to come for dinner, she didn't know where she stood.

She was his jewelry investigation partner—that much she knew for sure. As for anything romantic, she hadn't a clue. She'd spent the better part of the evening tamping down any desire he aroused in her. Yet once her grandmother had disappeared into her bedroom and they were alone, every inch of her was keenly aware of the man. He studied her with those piercing blue eyes and she wanted to melt into his arms.

Instead, she folded hers across her chest. “So much for helping me convince her that we're
not
engaged.”

“I tried! But she's pretty damn stubborn. Like someone else I know.” Amusement danced in his expression. “I would have fought the good fight, but she mentioned her health and I didn't want to upset her.”

Damn. Why did he have to be so sexy, sensitive, caring
and
have issues with women who liked to travel? Which brought up another bone of contention she had to pick with him. “Ex-wife?” she asked.

“It's not like I was holding out on you. Technically this is only our second date.” He reached out
his hand and pulled her toward him until her body aligned with his.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and met her gaze. “We are very different people.”

She nodded. “Who want very different things out of life.”

He paused, staring into her eyes until she felt the pull of his desire straight through to her stomach. “Are you getting on a plane anytime soon?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not until after my grandmother's birthday at the end of the month.”

She didn't have her destination chosen yet, either. By then the restlessness ought to take over and she'd be out of here, but for now she was exactly where she wanted to be.

“The question is, can you live with that?” She looped her arms around his neck. “Because if so, until then, I'm yours.”

He replied quickly, sealing his lips against hers in a kiss that was extremely delicious and way too short. He didn't slip his tongue inside her mouth, but he lingered long enough to tantalize her with his warm touch.

“I'll take that as a yes,” she murmured.

“That's a yes. But I'm leaving before I do something extremely inappropriate in your grandmother's living room,” he said, a seductive gleam in his eyes.

“I wouldn't mind.”

“Neither would I,” he murmured. “I have a full schedule for the next few days, but how about you come by my place around eight Friday night?”

“For work or play?” she asked as she walked him to the door.

He grinned. “If you're lucky, maybe a little of both.”

 

C
OOP RETURNED HOME
to a clean apartment, his brain flying with ideas and ready to write. Something about being with Lexie and her grandmother had rejuvenated him. Instead of going to bed, he sat down in front of his desktop computer, which luckily the thief had left, and got to work.

He spent a long time outlining a story loosely based on the theft of a valuable ring by the family chauffeur. Then he logged another hour researching the jewels and the Lancaster family, from whom the jewels had been stolen.

Lancaster.

The same name Lexie had remembered. Coop's gut clenched, but he kept digging until he unearthed another mention of the Lancaster theft, which detailed how everyone at the party had been questioned by the police and later exonerated. Except for the temporary staff, leaving a cold trail. One of them had been a chauffeur who'd driven friends to and from the party for the evening.

His neck and shoulders ached and he stood up and stretched. But it wasn't the physical pain that bothered him most. Lexie recalled the Lancaster family despite Charlotte's claim not to remember. And Charlotte admitted the necklace had been given to her husband in exchange for work done. Chauffeur work. Could all the similarities be a coincidence? Or
could Lexie's grandfather have been a thief after all?

Coop shook his head, knowing that he couldn't bring this to her until he'd dug deeper. Maybe his father could get him access to the cold case files and he'd find something fresh the police had missed. Something that exonerated her grandfather. Until he had something definitive, he wasn't about to burden Lexie with mere speculation.

Coop glanced at his watch, surprised by the time. Three hours had whizzed by. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to get lost in his writing and research for so long. He knew he had Lexie to thank for igniting his muse, which led to more guilt over where his research might lead.

Coop groaned and headed for bed. He had to be at the paper early tomorrow and knew he'd have a fitful sleep as it was.

He managed to grab a few hours and woke up with the same renewed energy he'd had last night. But he didn't have time for personal research. The
news never stopped and once at work, he checked the police blotter, noting that last night there had been a benefit for an AIDS charity with local bigwigs. A bracelet had been stolen, at least according to the owner. According to the police, however, a broken clasp or another accident might have been at play, since there was no way the item could have been taken off the victim's wrist. Coop eliminated the item from the news of the day. There were more valid thefts overnight that would make the paper.

A few minutes later, he received a phone call informing him that there had been a brutal rape near Central Park, the victim currently en route to the hospital.

Coop hit the ground running, arriving at the emergency room at the same time as the ambulance. The next few days passed in a flurry of interviews and activity, leaving him no time to investigate the ring's history or Lexie's grandfather's possible involvement.

Finally, Friday evening arrived. He had one last article to pull together for the evening edition, then he was off for the weekend, unless something big cropped up that he didn't want to miss out on.

Coop entered the lobby in the recently remodeled building. The news offices were on the seventeenth floor. Mirrored walls and trees lined the side walls and people were already leaving for the day.

As usual, Coop stopped by the security desk in
the center of the lobby to say hello to his buddy, Chris Markov, the uniformed guard at the desk. The same age as Coop, the two had been friends for over five years and now played on the same summer softball league.

“Hey, man. How are you?” Coop asked.

Chris lifted his hat and scratched his head. “Not bad. Yourself?”

“Hanging in. Are you off duty soon?” Coop asked.

“Sure am. I'm taking my son to the Renegades' home game.”

The mention of the team reminded Coop of his date with Lexie tonight. His mood, which had taken a beating with the depressing stories he'd been covering over the last few days, shifted gears and lightened.

“Great weather for a baseball game. The little man ought to have a blast,” he said of Chris's seven-year-old son, who he'd been raising on his own since his wife walked out when the boy was three.

“He loves the Renegades,” Chris said, laughing.

“I hear you. Have fun. I've gotta go write my story so I can get out of here. Catch you later.”

Coop turned to leave, when Chris called out, stopping him. “I've been tossing the obvious gifts from the single ladies in this town, as you requested. But this came for you earlier today and it doesn't look like female lingerie.” He pulled out a large
brown box with the word
Fragile
stamped in red on the top and bottom.

Chris had been happy to take over handling the Bachelor's goodies. But he was right. This package looked more legitimate. Coop wasn't expecting any deliveries, but in his line of work you never knew who'd send you something they thought could be a lead on a crime. Although this was a little larger than anything he'd received before.

“Doesn't look like the fancy blogger stuff from last week.” Chris, who'd gotten way too much enjoyment out of ribbing Coop about the gifts, chuckled yet again. “I imagine the fact that you're
engaged
has something to do with the women backing off.”

Chris knew damn well Coop wasn't engaged, but persisted in giving him a hard time anyway. “Back off,” Coop muttered good-naturedly. “And quit reading that garbage.”

But it still boggled the mind how many people in this city read the Bachelor Blog. Throughout the day, at the hospital where the rape victim had been brought, everyone from nurses to candy stripers to the woman who worked reception had recognized Coop as the Bachelor. Some had merely stared and whispered to their female friends. Others had tried their best to convince him outright to date them instead of staying with his current girlfriend. Humiliating, yet he had no choice but to suck it up.

And he wasn't about to give Chris any more ammunition.

The other man laughed. “Of course I read the blog. Hey, I sit at a desk for eight-plus hours a day. What do you expect? Even if you're not engaged, at least you're getting some action.”

“I take it you're not?” Coop asked his friend. From Chris, Coop knew how hard it was to date women when you had an impressionable kid around, not to mention the fact that Chris's mother practically lived with them to help out.

“Nah. You're definitely getting more than me if that photo is anything to go by.”

Oh, no. “What photo?” Coop asked warily.

“You haven't seen today's paper?”

Coop shook his head. “Been a little busy.”

Chris handed Coop today's edition, already folded open to the Bachelor Blog page.
Bachelor Gets Lucky,
read the headline and beneath it, a photograph of Lexie and Coop kissing.

“You live an interesting life,” Chris said.

“Only recently.” Since Lexie had come into it.

Coop stared at the grainy photo of the kiss. There were only two places that had happened, one when they were alone in his apartment and again when they
thought
they were alone in her grandmother's foyer. Apparently, Charlotte had a sneaky side.

He shouldn't laugh, but he couldn't help it. The
old lady had guts, nabbing a photo and sending it off to the Blogger. Lexie would probably kill her.