Kiss Me If You Can (Bachelor Blogs 1)

“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 now 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.”