Kiss Me If You Can (Bachelor Blogs 1)

“So?” She locked her jaw, certain she wouldn’t like the direction in which he was headed.

“Well, didn’t you notice how quickly Charlotte came up with the fence story as an explanation? Before we even asked her how your grandfather would have come into possession of stolen goods, she offered an answer.”

“She’s a quick thinker.”

Coop leaned in closer.

The masculine and oh-so-familiar scent of his aftershave sent her senses and her body into overdrive. Tamping down arousal in favor of rational thought wasn’t easy, but she tried.

“And when we tied the robbery to the Lancaster family, she played dumb and claimed she didn’t remember any such name.”

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.

RICKY 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.