Kiss Me if You Can (Most Eligible Bachelor Series Book 1)

by Carly Phillips

  Surprised, she started to pull away, but in a smooth move, he twisted his wrist and grabbed her hand instead. Liking the feel of him, she relaxed, letting him just hold on.

  “Are you working on a novel now?” she asked, trying to keep some semblance of conversation going when all her focus had centered on the palm of her hand, where his thumb drew lazy circles on her skin.

  “You could say something recently dropped into my lap.” He drew a deep breath. “Which reminds me—before this thing between us goes any further, there’s another thing you need to know.”

  “What is it?” she asked, suddenly wary of his intensity.

  “The ring isn’t just expensive—it’s likely stolen property.”

  “What? Stolen? How?” she asked, her mind spinning with the implications. If the ring had been stolen, then what about her grandmother’s necklace? A sick feeling settled in her stomach.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. During my quick Internet search, I discovered that the ring was part of a set that had been stolen back in the 1950s here in New York. I need to do more research. And that is another reason why I can’t just sell you the ring.”

  She exhaled a slow breath and eased her hand out of his. She couldn’t concentrate when he was touching her, and she needed to think clearly. “I don’t want you to do anything that’s going to hurt my grandmother. I’m certain she knows nothing about this, and it would devastate her.”

  “Are you?”

  “Am I what?” She tipped her head to one side, unsure of his question.

  “Are you sure she knows nothing about its history?”

  “As sure as I am about myself,” Lexie stated. “Look, I can talk to her about it, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up that she has the answers. And before you ask—no, I don’t think my grandfather was a thief,” she said, acknowledging the next logical question.

  He held up his hands in a gesture of defeat. “I wasn’t about to suggest it. He could have come into possession second-, third- or fourthhand,” Coop said, although he wasn’t ruling anything out.

  She nodded. “I don’t want to upset my grandmother by even mentioning the fact that her necklace might have been stolen.” Lexie drummed her fingers on the table, desperately trying to come up with a way to find out more without directly involving her grandmother. “Maybe Sylvia would know something.”

  Sam raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Sylvia?”

  “Grandma Charlotte’s best friend. They’re like Frick and Frack. The Thelma and Louise of their generation.”

  Coop shook his head and laughed. “The more I hear about your grandmother, the more I think I’d like her.”

  “Most people do.” She paused, then met his gaze. “We need to find out more about these jewels. Maybe you’re wrong, and they aren’t stolen property. Maybe they’re a copy of the originals or something.”

  “Could be,” he agreed. “Wait. What do you mean we have to find out more? I’m a reporter. I’ll do the digging and get back to you.”

  “I’m the computer geek. I can find out more with a few clicks of the mouse than you can discover in a week’s worth of questioning. Besides, if we work together, we’ll find things out that much quicker. Sounds to me like we need each other.”

  He groaned and looked a little put out at the notion. Just a little. Because that spark of attraction was still simmering between them. She could see it in his eyes and the way his gaze fell to her chest every so often in pure appreciation.

  She wasn’t above using it. Not when she felt the same way about him. “Oh, and Sam? There’s one more thing you should know. If the ring turns out to be a fake, I still intend to buy it for my grandmother.”

  “I suppose we can add stubborn and determined to your list of attributes?”

  She edged closer to the table, resting her elbows on top. “I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”

  “I’d like to see you in action.” His gaze traveled from her lips to her chest and back up again. “So what did you have in mind?”

  “Well, since we’ll be working together, I think I can help you in other ways, too,” she said.

  “I’m listening…”

  “For one thing, I’m very good at what I do, and I was thinking, even with a book published by a small press, you need a Web site. Especially if you’re going to make that jump to the big leagues.”

  His eyes opened wide in surprise, and knowing his mind had been on their sexual tension, Lexie let out a laugh. “While we’re digging up information on the jewelry’s history, I’ll work up your Web site. If you like what I do, we can apply some of my charge toward the cost of the ring. So what do you say?”

  “And if the ring’s stolen and has to be returned?” he asked.

  Lexie didn’t want to think about that. “I’m an optimist. But if you insist on being more pragmatic and covering all bases, in that case, my work would be on the house.”

  “Why would you work for free?” he asked, skeptical.

  “Truth? Because part of my designing any Web site involves me getting to know my clients. And I want to get to know you.”

  A ruddy flush darkened his cheekbones.

  “I take it you’re interested?” she asked, and before he could reply, she added her standard client pitch. “You must realize that Internet presence is key today. In the case of an author like yourself, if I get to know not just you but also your product, I can convey the real you to your readers. Then there are the basic reasons for having a Web site. You need to connect with your readers through other social Web sites to bring traffic back to your site. And you need good S.E.O. I’m a pro at doing it all.” She waved her hands animatedly as she described her reasons, hoping he’d see and understand them as clearly as she did. “Well?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you lost me at S.E.O.”

  She hadn’t expected him to say no. Disappointment tasted bitter in her throat, and her heart pounded hard in her chest.

  “But you had me at, I want to get to know you,” he said in a deep voice.

  Lexie exhaled in relief, picked up a paper napkin, rolled it into a ball and tossed it at him. “Not nice, setting me up that way.”

  He grinned. “Payback for setting me up with that little sexual innuendo first.”

  “Just so you know, I’m very good at follow-through,” she said, gathering her purse. She pulled out a business card and handed it to him. “This has my e-mail and cell phone, so you can reach me any time. I’m guessing your work hours depend on what’s going on in the city, so…you call me, okay?”

  He accepted the card, his fingers deliberately brushing hers. “Okay.”

  “But just in case you’re thinking of avoiding me and doing the research alone, give me a way to contact you, too.”

  “Smart girl.” His lips curved upward in appreciation. “Don’t call me at work. I want to keep this separate.” He grabbed a paper napkin and wrote his address and cell phone number on it, handing it to her.

  She tried to pay, but he waved away the gesture. “It’s on me. If not, my father will think he did a poor job raising me to be a gentleman.”

  “How can I argue with that? Thank you. I enjoyed myself, Sam.” She rose to her feet.

  He did the same. “One more thing. My friends call me Coop.”

  She nodded. “Friends. Is that what we are?”

  He placed his hand on the small of her back. Weaving their way through tables and then the bar crowd, he walked her to the exit. As she reached the door, he leaned over and whispered in her ear. “I hope to be much more.”

  She turned back. Face-to-face, their breath almost commingling, she replied, “Count on it,” before disappearing into the hot, summer night.

  Chapter Four

  Coop headed back to his apartment, whistling as he walked.

  Whistling?

  All from a first date with Lexie, if he could even call it a date, considering how much business they’d conducted. But he’d enjoyed her company, and n
ow he had himself a Web designer, a partner in his ring investigation and a romantic interest. There was no doubt about that.

  He took the stairs to his walk-up two at a time. The dimly lit hall was quiet, letting him know his neighbors, a married couple on one side and a good friend of his who lived on the other, were probably still out.

  He went to insert the key in the lock when he realized his door was ajar. The lock had been jimmied, deep gouge marks on either side of the handle.

  Coop muttered a curse. He lived in a relatively safe neighborhood but, hell, this wasn’t a doorman building, and there was no security to be found. Silence and gut instinct told him that whoever had broken in was already gone. He kicked the door open and walked in slowly. Just in case. A quick look around confirmed his fear. Someone had broken in and tossed the place, leaving no couch cushion or piece of paper unturned.

  For the second time in less than a week, Coop found himself on the other end of his own crime beat. He called 9-1-1 from his cell, hoping maybe something in this apartment held a clue to who’d broken in and why.

  For the next few hours, New York’s finest did their thing, dusting for prints, looking for evidence and taking his statement.

  Coop had pulled out two bottles of Coke from the fridge and offered one to Sara Rios, the female officer on duty who just happened to be his neighbor and good friend.

  Sara was pretty with long blonde hair, big eyes and a good heart. In uniform, she was a kick-ass cop. As a friend, she shared his taste in books and movies.

  “At a glance, is anything missing?” she asked.

  Coop bit the inside of his cheek. “Other than my laptop?” It had been the first thing he’d checked for and the only thing that seemed to be gone. “Everything else is here. Television, iPod, even my camera is still sitting where I left it.”

  “I’m sorry, Coop. But I did tell you to install better locks.”

  “Thanks for not saying I told you so,” he muttered.

  “You think it’s work-related?”

  He shook his head. Although work was the obvious reason someone would snag his computer, it didn’t add up. “There’s no current case I’m working on that’s anything out of the ordinary. It’s not like Son of Sam is sending me letters or anything.”

  She perched a hip on the arm of his sofa. “I hate to ask, but could it be a female stalker? One of your Bachelor Blog groupies?” She unsuccessfully tried to hide her smirk behind a notepad.

  “Wiseass. The women in this city are desperate, that’s for sure.” He told her about the scented notes and panties he’d dumped in the trash earlier. “But if it was one of them, wouldn’t I have found her waiting in my bed, not stealing my laptop?”

  “You’ve got a point. We won’t know anything more until we run some tests. The guys seem to be finishing up,” she said, pointing to the forensic team, packing up. “If you realize something else is missing, call me. You know the drill. Sometimes it’s the little information you don’t think is important that can break a case.”

  He nodded. “I think I can handle it.” He covered this crap on a daily basis.

  “Now who’s the wiseass?” she asked, treating him to a grin.

  “I don’t suppose we can keep this quiet? The last thing I need is more publicity.”

  She shook her head. “You know better. If your paper doesn’t cover it, another one will. At this point, you’re the closest thing to a celebrity this city’s got. Until another big thing comes along, the Bachelor Blog is the news.” She slapped him on the shoulder, commiserating but not helping him in the least.

  “What about the robbery you foiled?” Sara asked.

  “You know as well as I do, that’s an open-and-shut case. The guy couldn’t make bail, so he’s still sitting in lockup.”

  Sara glanced at her partner who was gesturing toward the door. “I’ll check in when I get off duty in the morning. Call if you remember anything else.”

  He nodded. “Thanks, neighbor.”

  After the cops took off, Coop righted the sofa and table, ignoring the rest of the mess for now. He sat down, kicked his feet up and pulled on a long sip of soda. As he leaned back, something sharp jabbed him in the thigh.

  The ring.

  Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner?

  Coop took the object from his pocket and studied the piece of jewelry, letting the puzzle pieces add up. He’d just discovered that the ring had value. The same ring had been flashed all over the local news, the information regurgitated in the blog. And now both Lexie and Ricky were interested in the ring.

  As for motive for breaking in here, Lexie had been with him, he’d shown her the ring, and she’d had no reason to think he wouldn’t work a deal with her to give the ring to her grandmother. Not only did she not strike him as the thief type, but she’d been with him all night. And he couldn’t envision her hiring someone to toss his place when he’d promised to bring the ring to their rendezvous.

  Ricky Burnett, on the other hand, was a big question mark. Coop had already turned down his request to return the ring. But would a hoarder go to all this trouble just to reclaim any old piece? Or was his interest related to the ring’s value? Or to its history?

  Or had this been just a random robbery unrelated to anything going on in Coop’s life at the moment?

  Coop hadn’t a clue about that, but he did know it was time to find out whether this ring was the real deal. First thing in the morning, he’d call in some favors. There had to be someone who could authenticate the ring without calling attention to the fact that it had once been stolen. Then he’d put the ring in a safe deposit box in the bank.

  Just in case.

  Lexie woke up to sun streaming through the window and the crooning sound of Perry Como coming from the CD player in the kitchen. Grandma loved Perry Como.

  Somehow Lexie needed to broach the history of the necklace with her grandmother without arousing the older woman’s suspicions that Lexie had an ulterior motive beyond curiosity about the past before she even thought about how she needed caffeine.

  Lexie padded to the kitchen in her T-shirt and bare feet, craving coffee before she could start her day. On her way, she passed her grandmother hunched over the computer in the den, Sylvia standing beside her.

  “Morning,” Lexie mumbled.

  Both women jumped. “Mercy, you startled me!” Charlotte said.

  “Good morning, darling,” Sylvia said. “Go get your coffee, so you’ll be human; then we can talk to you.”

  The two women knew Lexie’s morning routine as well as Lexie herself. In the kitchen, she poured her coffee from the pot her grandmother had waiting and added milk. All the while, she heard arguing in the other room. She couldn’t make out the words, but given the way Charlotte and Sylvia bickered over everything from the brand of hair dye to use on each other, to which colored deck of cards they would break out for gin rummy, Lexie didn’t strain herself to hear.

  A few delicious sips of hot coffee later, the caffeine began flowing through her veins. She waited a few more minutes to savor her morning brew and let the jolt of awareness kick in before heading to rejoin her grandmother and her friend.

  “Hi!” Lexie said, kissing first her grandmother then Sylvia.

  “There she is, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.” Grandma Charlotte pinched her cheek. “I tried to wait up for you last night, but I was too pooped.”

  Lexie smiled. “Sleep is good for you.”

  “Tell me about your date!” her grandmother said.

  “I already told you last night it wasn’t a date. It was just a business meeting. Web-design stuff,” Lexie said, more truthfully this morning than when she’d fudged about meeting a client last night.

  She would be working on designs for Coop’s Web site. She also happened to have designs on him.

  Vivid memories of his knee brushing hers came rushing back to her. His strong fingers wrapped around her hand, his thumb drawing lazy circles on her skin, making her tingle and burn. The man
’s effect on her had been so potent it was difficult to remember she also had to keep an eye on whatever information they discovered about the ring and the necklace, protect her grandmother and hopefully end up with the ring in her possession. That was her endgame. Even if the path there held the potential to be an extremely exciting trip.

  “Look, Sylvia, she’s blushing!” Grandma Charlotte said, pointing to Lexie’s cheeks. “Just a client, my patootie.”

  “Keep eating that farmer cheese, and your patootie will keep growing,” Sylvia said to her friend before turning to Lexie. “Your grandmother is right about something else, too.” Sylvia pressed a finger to Lexie’s cheek. “Yep. You’re beet red.”

  Lexie rolled her eyes. “You both really need to get a life instead of worrying so much about mine.” Lexie focused on the computer behind them. “So what were you two up to before I woke up? Practicing some of the things I taught you?” she asked her grandmother.

  “Well…I…”

  “We were just…”

  Lexie looked over the stammering women’s shoulders, but a screen saver prevented her from seeing the actual screen. The words Born Free wound their way around the monitor in 3D.

  Lexie narrowed her gaze. “I didn’t set that up.” And it would take someone pretty proficient with a Mac to know how to do it.

  “Oh, I did,” Sylvia jumped in. “I wanted to prove to your grandmother that I was smarter than she is, so while you’re giving her private lessons here, I’m taking my own at the Apple store. And voilà!” She swept her hand toward the screen. “Try doing that, Miss Giggle Me a Bachelor Blog.” Sylvia grinned, obviously proud of herself.

  Lexie laughed at the women’s one-upmanship. “Grandma, you’re going to have to step up your game if you want to be able to keep up.”

  “I’ll show you, Ms. Smarty-Pants,” Charlotte said to her friend. “Watch how computer savvy I’ve become, thanks to my brilliant granddaughter. And speaking of my granddaughter, when did you start lying to your grandmother?”