Kiss Me If You Can (Bachelor Blogs 1) - Page 53/69

How could she deny him anything? “Promise.”

He smiled, satisfied. “While you’re thinking, remember this. You are also a successful Web designer and a fantastic person regardless of how different you are from the rest of your family.”

Warmth spread over her like sunshine on her skin. “Sounds as if you like me,” she said, teasing him.

He met her gaze, his gorgeous eyes drinking her in. “I more than like you, Lexie,” he said, his voice gruff with raw emotion.

Panic washed over her at the depth of feeling she both saw and heard. “So we’re going to confront my grandmother. That’s the plan?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.

A flicker of disappointment flashed across his face before he quickly masked it. “Yes, that’s the plan.”

She nodded. “Good. So let’s shower and do this.” She slid out of bed.

Away from Coop, his touch and the feelings she didn’t want to face.

“I DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOU, but I’m getting tired of hanging out on the street corner like a common hooker,” Charlotte said to Sylvia.

Charlotte peered across the street at the Vintage Jewelers. It was early morning and if they didn’t see Ricky soon, Charlotte and her aching feet might have to call it quits. She wasn’t as young as she used to be.

“I agree. It’s hard to believe we haven’t been propositioned yet. Kinda hard on the old ego.” Sylvia adjusted her big-rimmed sunglasses.

“I think it’s because nobody can see our faces behind the glasses and the scarves. On a good hair day, I’d have men lining up for a smooch.” Charlotte glanced at her friend. “So would you,” she added, trying to be nice.

Sylvia had never had Charlotte’s looks. What she did have was a personality and a big heart. It was too bad she and Frank had never had kids. At least then she’d have a Lexie in her life, Charlotte thought.

“Look! That’s him!” Sylvia pulled on Charlotte’s blouse. “The fat, balding man sneaking around the corner!”

He didn’t go into the store entrance. Instead, he appeared to be sneaking around the side.

“That bastard. Is there a back entrance we missed?” Charlotte asked.

“I don’t know. But at least we know he’s back.”

Charlotte nodded. “Now all we have to do is wait for his daughter to leave and we can ambush him!”

When the woman stepped out of the store at noon, Charlotte and Sylvia glanced at each other, locked gazes, nodded once and strode across the street, two women on a mission.

IF LEXIE DIDN’T WANT to discuss anything serious, then fine. Coop wouldn’t discuss anything serious. But that didn’t mean the revelation he’d had earlier wasn’t bouncing around inside him. And damn if he knew what to do about it.

After all, he’d gone and done the one thing he’d promised himself he’d never do again. He’d fallen in love with a woman who couldn’t love him back or stay in town long enough to let life and love develop. What were the freaking chances he’d f**k up twice?

Pretty darn good, apparently.

At least he hadn’t outright told her how he felt. He still had some dignity intact.

They showered—separately—and headed over to her grandmother’s apartment. Coop drove. His mood permeated the car and neither one of them spoke on the way there.

Once at her grandmother’s, Charlotte wasn’t home.

“I swear the woman has radar,” Lexie muttered, to herself. “Come. Let’s check Sylvia’s place.”

He followed Lexie down the hall and waited as she banged on the other woman’s door. Nobody answered.

“Of course not,” Lexie said, her voice thick with frustration.

“Let’s go back to your grandmother’s.” He took the lead and she followed behind him.

They sat at the kitchen table, staring at each other in silence. As a reporter, Coop had been in this position before, unable to find a person from whom he needed information, and asked himself what he’d do if Charlotte were any other source.

“We need to draw her out,” he said, answering his own question.

Intrigued, Lexie leaned across the table, chin against her hand. “How?”

He tried to ignore the inquisitive furrow between her brows, but found the tiny wrinkles cute. So were the freckles on her nose.

Damn.

He closed his eyes and attempted to focus. “We need her to want to talk to us.”

“What if…” Lexie’s voice trailed off.

Coop opened his eyes. “What? Say it.” The only way they’d figure this out was to bounce ideas off each other.

She pursed her glossed lips. “Okay, I don’t like this. But what if we take the necklace and leave a note in its place?”

“Then she’d have no choice but to come looking for us. It’s brilliant! You’re brilliant!” Coop said, excited with the idea.

At the compliment, pleasure flashed across her face and Coop rose from his chair to kiss her, but as reality dawned, self-preservation kicked in and he quickly lowered himself back to his seat.

She visibly flinched from his withdrawal. “Let me go see if I can find the necklace. Hopefully, she’s not hiding it,” Lexie said, dashing from the room. She returned seconds later with the necklace dangling from her hand. “Ta da!”

“Perfect. Now the note,” Coop instructed.

She handed him the necklace, pulled paper and pen from a drawer and wrote her grandmother a ransom letter, propping it up against the fake fruit centerpiece on the table.

“Now what?” she asked.

“We head to my place and wait her out.” Which Coop figured would be easier said than done.

If he and Lexie weren’t having easy conversation, they certainly wouldn’t be killing time by having sex. Which meant that until Charlotte showed up, they were in for an awkward, uncomfortable stretch of time.

RICKY COULDN’T BELIEVE the two old biddies had tied him to his chair with scarves they’d brought with them. They’d trussed him up with knots tighter than a Boy Scout’s.

“What do you want?” he asked.

They exchanged incredulous glances.

Charlotte had propped her sunglasses on top of her scarf-covered head and he was able to look into her determined gaze. “I want my wedding ring. The one I gave you that night at the Lancasters so nobody would realize one of us had on a ring or any kind of outstanding clue,” Charlotte said.