Kiss Me If You Can (Bachelor Blogs 1)

Coop’s eyes filled with understanding. “So he couldn’t have been involved.”

“Right!” Relief surged through her and she threw her arms around Coop’s neck and pulled him into a kiss.

Coop responded and kissed her back, his tongue doing delicious things to her mouth, but he didn’t let it last long. “We have more digging to do,” he reminded her.

She reluctantly agreed and eased away, her body still humming. “Right. So…the chauffeur was exonerated after questioning and that leaves the two women.”

Coop flipped through the aging papers, skimming hard to read handwriting, taking his time as he read the words on the pages. “Most of this is the following up of dead ends. Except…” He placed his finger on the paper. “Here. It says most of the party guests noted the two waitresses were flighty, disappearing for too long at a time, leaving guests without drinks or hors d’oeuvres. And they often congregated together, whispering instead of working. Like they knew each other well.”

“Which wouldn’t be surprising if they worked together often,” Lexie pointed out, her stomach churning even as she didn’t want to face why.

“Except…hang on. I remember reading something else in here…” Coop flipped backwards in the file. “Here it is. These two women were temps hired to fill in when the party list grew larger at the last minute.”

Lexie swallowed hard. “Which puts us back where we started, asking ourselves how the necklace came to be in my grandmother’s possession…”

“While your grandfather was stationed overseas.” Coop placed a firm hand on Lexie’s shoulder, as if bracing her for the blow.

A blow she’d already subconsciously taken as they’d worked through the question. “We can’t possibly be thinking that she was one of the two women who were temporary help.” She looked to Coop, praying he’d laugh at her assumption.

“For the sake of argument, let’s say she was. Who could have been her accomplice?”

Lexie closed her eyes, fighting the truth that had been simmering just below consciousness. The other day she’d thought of her grandmother and her best friend, Sylvia, as Laverne and Shirley or Lucy and Ethel. Who else but Sylvia would Charlotte have had her head together with all those years ago while working a dinner party?

Who could have been her accomplice? “That’s a rhetorical question,” Lexie said to Coop, opening her eyes and facing reality. “The real question is, what are we going to do about it?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

WITH THE HOT ZONE Web design nailed down and the implementation in Claudia’s capable hands, Lexie spent a productive Saturday working on Coop’s Web site. He, in turn, spent the day on assignment. Though she worked out of her grandmother’s place, Charlotte was not there. She’d been asleep by the time Lexie had returned home the night before and had left before Lexie woke up.

Lexie appreciated the reprieve because she hadn’t yet figured out how she would handle the discovery she’d made. No matter how many ways she tried to spin things, she always came back to the same conclusion. Her grandmother and Sylvia had stolen jewels from the Lancaster family collection.

Lexie massaged her temples in a continuing effort to keep a nagging headache at bay. The shock and pain weren’t so bad when she was absorbed in design work, but each time she took a break, the memory of finding out came flooding back. The woman she adored, idolized and looked up to was a thief.

How in the world had that happened?

And what did the revelation say about Lexie herself? She’d always found solace in the fact that even if she wasn’t like the rest of her family, she could count on the comforting notion that she was like her grandmother—a free-spirited, happy, taking-life-as-it-came kind of person. But not a thief.

The doorbell rang and Lexie jumped up to answer it. She was surprised to see Coop standing on the other side, looking sexy as ever in a worn pair of jeans and a plain T-shirt. His muscles bunched beneath the fabric and the midnight blue accented his gorgeous eyes.

She wished he didn’t always have that gut-twisting impact on her. The one that had her yearning to grab his hand and drag him to her bed. Or kitchen counter, whichever was nearest. If only she knew her grandmother was out for the whole day, she might actually do it, but she had no idea when Charlotte would be back.

So much for love in the afternoon, she thought wryly. “What are you doing here so early?” she asked him, her voice tame in comparison to her raging hormones and lust-filled thoughts. “I wasn’t expecting you until six.” When he was supposed to pick her up for the torture dinner at her parents’.

“I finished up my story early and I figured you could use a break from your thoughts.” He tapped her temple with his finger.

She grinned, oddly pleased that he knew her so well. “You figured right. Although I have been doing great work on your site.”

“Can I come in so you can show me?” He still stood in the hall.

“Sure. Sorry.” She shook her head, embarrassed. “I’m just distracted. Come on in.” She waved him inside. “But you can’t see the designs yet. I want to surprise you with my genius.”

He laughed, the sound doing nothing to ease the sexual awareness she was feeling.

“Did I ever mention how much I love your modesty?” he asked.

She tipped her head to one side, meeting his gaze. “Hey, when you’re good at something you shouldn’t hide it,” she said pointedly, hoping he’d take the hint that she was talking about more than herself.

He dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Touché.”

At least her point hadn’t gone over his head, even if he chose not to get deeper into the conversation.

“So where do you want to go this afternoon? I want to get you out of this apartment and it’s a beautiful day and this is just a crime.” He pointed to the shades, drawn tight by her grandmother.

“I agree.” She’d love to see some sunshine.

She had an idea about where they could go, but she bit the inside of her cheek, debating whether or not she wanted to share her special place with him. She worried that once she did, it would never be hers alone ever again. That she’d always associate it with him, even after he was gone from her life.

The thought caused a distinct lump to form in her throat, the panic practically choking her. She ought to be scared at how deeply she was coming to feel for this man, yet she couldn’t stop the words from flowing out of her mouth. “Let me grab my bag and I’ll surprise you.”