Kiss Me If You Can (Bachelor Blogs 1)

While Sam couldn’t begin to understand how important it was for Lexie to be like the grandmother she loved, he’d picked up on the fact that she was like her. He didn’t like travel, so theirs could never be a serious relationship. But a fling suited her just fine, and it had been too long since she’d had one of those.

She liked Coop, despite the serious side to his personality. But unlike her father and sister—both bankers—and her powerhouse attorney mother, whose life mission was perfect children, Sam didn’t strike Lexie as uptight or unforgiving.

He interested her and he was unattached and single, another prerequisite Lexie demanded, thanks to Drew. Not that he’d been involved with someone when they’d started dating, but he’d obviously been too open to other possibilities. She tried to gauge men better now.

“Hello, Earth to Lexie.” Sam snapped his fingers in front of her, calling for her attention.

“Sorry. I got lost in thought. I tend to do that.” And get called out by her family for being ditzy.

“As long as it’s not the company that’s boring you,” he said, a grin on his handsome face.

“Definitely not. It’s more a function of my creative side.” She wasn’t about to admit that she’d been thinking about him. “I start to dwell on things and go off into my own world. Next thing I know, a new Web site idea’s come to me. Sometimes I’m not even daydreaming about work.”

“Looks like we have something in common.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Insanity?”

He laughed. “No, creative daydreaming. You see, I’m a writer.”

“I know. Crime beat.”

He leaned closer. “I mean I also write fiction.” He spoke softly, his words almost a whisper.

He was revealing a personal secret, making her, as the recipient, feel special. A warm feeling snuck up inside her and settled in her chest. “That’s awesome! What kind of fiction?”

His shoulders relaxed. “Mystery. Sam Spade kind of stuff.”

“I’m a huge reader and I love mysteries! In fact—want to know a secret? I’m an old-time Ludlum fan.”

He nodded appreciatively. “A woman of complexity,” he mused.

“Are you published?” she asked.

“Small press but—”

“You have big aspirations,” she finished for him.

A mix of surprise and relief showed on his face. “How did you know?”

“Let’s just say I recognize a kindred spirit.” She reached out and placed her hand over his, wanting to impart understanding.

Fireworks ensued instead. Touching him set off a spark of heat inside her body. The attraction, which had been simmering beneath the surface, exploded in full force.

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.”