Kiss Me If You Can Read online

  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.”

  “I love surprises.” A pleased and seductive smile curved his mouth. “Lead the way.”

  No doubt about it, Lexie thought. Her special place would never be the same again.

  COOP WATCHED AS LEXIE stepped onto the small ledge and leaned her forehead against the window at the top of the Empire State Building. He’d been here as a kid and again when covering a story or two, but a tourist site wouldn’t be a place he’d normally choose to go to unwind. The line to get in, the wait, the crowds on the elevators… Definitely not for him.

  But a funny thing happened once they reached Lexie’s floor of choice. She led him to the windows and once they stood together, looking out over the beautiful skyline, all the noise, the chaos, the people around him seemed to disappear. He could appreciate why she came here when she needed solitude.

  “Step up with me.” She encouraged him to lean against the window with her.

  “I’m not sure I want to feel that weightless sensation,” he muttered.

  “Chicken?” she asked.

  With a resigned groan, he planted his feet on the ledge, his toes against the plate glass.

  As if sensing his reluctance, Lexie reached out and clasped his hand firmly in hers. “Now look out,” she said, softly, her fingers wrapping tighter around his.

  He allowed himself to trust and did as she asked, taking in the incredible sight from a new and enlightening perspective. He felt as if he were flying over the city, free-falling without a safety net. And he loved it.

  He tipped his head and glanced over, taking in Lexie’s serene profile—this was the most relaxed he’d ever seen her and he had the sense that he was being given a glimpse into her heart and her soul. And somehow he knew she rarely shared this part of herself with others. It showed an incredible amount of trust—and that both pleased and scared the crap out of him.

  “I hate that we have to leave,” she murmured.

  He squeezed her hand. “I know, but we still have some time.” But even as he spoke, he realized that time with her wasn’t something he could count on.

  LEXIE SAT IN THE BACK of Coop’s car, yielding the front seat to her grandmother. Charlotte talked to Coop nonstop, leaving Lexie alone with her thoughts.

  She approached her family home with trepidation. She normally saw her parents at a restaurant and left immediately after dinner so she didn’t have to prolong the agony or look for an excuse to leave. Tonight was different and not just because Coop was there to witness the dysfunction.

  AS THEY WALKED UP the front path, Charlotte led the way, ringing the doorbell and entering as if she owned the place. “Hello! We’re here!”

  Lexie shot Coop an amused glanced.

  He slid his hand into hers, his palm feeling warm and solid against her skin.

  Footsteps sounded from the kitchen and her father strode into the marbled entryway. Of course he wore a suit and tie, making Lexie feel out of place in her bohemian summer dress. Not that she needed clothing for that. Coop’s mere presence, in his khaki chinos and a pale-blue dress shirt, surprisingly put Lexie a little more at ease.

  “You’re on time!” her father noted, by way of hello.

  “Coop drove us and he’s prompt,” Charlotte said proudly, as if she had something to do with that fact. “Sam Cooper, this is my son, Cary.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Cary.” Coop extended his hand, while Lexie waited for the fallout.

  “My name is Grant.” Her father pinned his mother with an annoyed glare, which contrasted well with the embarrassed flush in his cheeks.

  “Don’t you listen to him,” Charlotte said. “His given name is Cary Grant Davis.”

  “My legal name has been Grant since I turned eighteen,” he reminded her.

  This argument was as standard and expected as it was funny, and Lexie choked back a laugh.

  “A pleasure, Mr. Davis,” Coop said diplomatically, somehow keeping a straight face.

  Lexie’s father shook Coop’s hand. “Grant will be fine.”

  Charlotte let out a snort. “My fanny, it’s fine! Your father and I named you after Cary Grant in the movie, It Takes a Thief.” Charlotte’s voice took on a dreamy quality.

  Grant rolled his eyes.

  But Lexie was no longer amused at the byplay.

  With the reminder of her grandmother’s favorite movie, Lexie became even more certain of Charlotte’s role in the jewel heist years ago. She just couldn’t fathom why her grandmother would have done such a thing. Lexie still hadn’t decided how to handle that knowledge. She wondered if Coop caught the movie reference, but he was still focused on Lexie’s father.

  “Come into the living room,” Grant said and they followed him into a formally furnished area, complete with a grand piano—for show only—and a wet bar in the corner.

  Lexie’s mother, Caroline, waited for them, dressed as properly as her husband in a simple black dress and pearls. “I’m so glad everyone could make it!”

  Her father made the introductions for Coop, while Lexie kissed her mother’s cool cheek.

  “Can I make anyone a drink?” Grant asked.

  Lexie would have loved a stiff anything, but whatever she chose would meet with disapproval, so better to stay sober and on her toes. “Nothing for me, thanks.”

  Coop shook his head. “I’m fine, thank you.” He obviously took his cue from her.

  “Have something,” Lexie urged.

  “I’m having a martini. I’ll make you one,” Grant said before Coop could reply.

  “You know, I read an interesting article online the other day,” Charlotte said. “It said that rehab centers are seeing a rise in bankers who are admitted for alcoholism.” Her naughty gaze fell on her son.

  “Mother!” Caroline said, horrified.

  Lexie’s father turned a deeper red, but he
said nothing, while Coop met Lexie’s stare, wide-eyed.

  She merely shrugged. If he wasn’t used to her grandmother by now, he would be after tonight.

  “Let’s all sit,” Caroline suggested. “Lexie, Mother, come and we’ll catch up.”

  Lexie and Coop settled beside each other on the couch. Charlotte took Grant’s favorite chair, which gave her a view of everyone in the room. After mixing drinks, Lexie’s father joined them, sitting beside his wife on a love seat across from the sofa.

  An old wall clock, which used to wake Lexie as a child, ticked loudly in the silent room. Lexie swung her foot back and forth until Coop settled his hand on her knee, stilling the nervous movement.

  “Where are Margaret and Stan?” Lexie asked of her sister and her husband.

  “She had an urgent meeting with the governor,” Caroline said proudly.

  Lexie’s father nodded, beaming. “She has his ear.”

  “I hope that’s all she has. Many successful women have been known to sleep their way to the top.” Charlotte glanced down at her empty wine-glass. “I’ll have another, please.” She extended her arm toward her daughter-in-law.

  “You’ve had enough,” Caroline and Grant said at the same time.

  “Party poopers.”

  “So, Coop,” her father said, ignoring his mother’s outburst. “Tell me about yourself.”

  Coop leaned forward in his seat. “I’m the crime beat reporter for the Daily Post.”

  “Impressive,” Grant said, approval clear in his tone.

  Lexie admired how comfortable Coop was in his own skin, even on meeting her parents, who eyed him with a combination of curiosity and wonderment. She clearly read the expression on their faces. How could such a fine man be with their flighty daughter?

  “Lexie tells me you’re president of Metro Savings and Loan,” Coop said.

  Smooth, Lexie thought, impressed. He’d obviously done his research, since she’d never told him specifically where her father worked. Lexie sat on her hands in an attempt not to applaud the fact that Coop had come prepared.

  The two men had a brief discussion of business and economic issues, when Lexie’s mother finally made her presence known.

  She cleared her throat. “So tell me how you and my daughter met. Were you in Indonesia recently?” she asked, her tone as horrified as it had been when Lexie had announced her plans.

  Coop, who hadn’t removed his hand from Lexie’s leg, gave her a gentle squeeze. At least he hadn’t shuddered at the location of her last trip.

  “Actually, we met in the city.”

  Before he could launch into an explanation of how they met over a garbage Dumpster, Lexie decided to use this conversation as an opportunity to gauge what her parents knew about her grandmother’s necklace—and the older woman’s shady past.

  “I don’t know if you saw the news, but Coop’s a local hero,” Lexie said proudly. She described his actions at the jewelry store and the ensuing reward.

  “I didn’t want to accept anything, but the woman insisted,” Coop explained.

  “And they showed the whole thing on the news. Grandma and I were watching and we realized that Coop’s ring matched one of her old necklaces. I decided I wanted to buy it from him for her upcoming birthday.” Lexie revealed her true plan to her grandmother for the first time.

  “Why…I don’t know what to say!” Charlotte blew kisses at Lexie from her chair. “You always were such a sweet child,” she said, beaming with happiness.

  “Which of your many pieces is it?” Lexie’s father asked.

  “The one that means the most to her because it was a gift from Grandpa,” Lexie prodded, hoping her father remembered and could add some details to the story.

  Grant choked on his martini. “Excuse me? Lexie, are you sure? My father was never a gift-giver! In fact, he was more of a stingy bastard—”

  “Cary Grant Davis, you take that back!” Charlotte said, jumping up from her chair.

  Grant made a frustrated, growling sound. “Well, it’s the truth.”

  Lexie had always known that her father’s memories of his parent didn’t match her grandmother’s memories of her husband. Lexie had been too young to remember her grandfather as more than a big, booming man who’d loved her.

  Charlotte pulled a tissue from inside her shirt and began blotting her eyes.

  “Oh, brother.” Grant eyed his mother, obviously annoyed with her theatrics. “I’m sorry,” he finally said.

  Charlotte sniffed. “Fine.”

  “Good. Now that that’s settled, back to the necklace. Do either of you remember it? Because it has an interesting history,” Lexie said. “It turns out that it belonged to a family named—”

  “Oh, my heart!” Charlotte cried, rising and grabbing for her chest.

  Lexie narrowed her gaze, unable to tell if her grandmother was faking because of the subject or really wasn’t feeling well. Unwilling to take any chances, she rose from her seat and leaned close to her grandmother.

  Coop followed, putting an arm around Charlotte’s shoulders. “Have a seat,” he said, gently leading her to the couch.

  “Mother, are you okay?” Grant asked. Suddenly truly concerned, he too hovered over her.

  “Should I call an ambulance?” Caroline already had a hand on the phone.

  Lexie met her parents’ worried gaze. “She told me she was just diagnosed with high blood pressure. Maybe her medications aren’t working?”

  Charlotte moaned and fanned herself with a magazine she’d picked up from the table.

  Lexie’s mother nodded and called 9-1-1, while her father rushed to the kitchen, mumbling about a baby aspirin and a glass of water.

  HALF AN HOUR LATER, although her grandmother claimed she was now fine, the paramedics insisted on taking her to the hospital. Protocol demanded it, since other things like a panic attack or acid reflux, could look like a heart attack. They needed to check her heart and Lexie agreed.

  Many exhausting hours later, Charlotte was released, diagnosed with an anxiety attack. Grant wanted his mother to stay overnight so they could keep an eye on her. But when the older woman attempted to blame her son for upsetting her about her poor deceased husband, Lexie stepped in and, along with Coop, took her grandmother home.

  “At least I saved us from eating Caroline’s atrocious cooking,” Charlotte said as they led her to her apartment.

  Lexie rolled her eyes. “You took years off my life.”

  Charlotte shuffled down the hall in her slipper-looking shoes. “Well, can I help it if your father’s a callous ass?”

  Coop, who’d spent the entire night by Lexie’s side, chuckled.

  He’d been her steadying rock while the doctors took her frail-looking grandmother away in a wheel-chair. In between reassuring her that Charlotte would be fine, Coop distracted her by asking questions about places she’d visited on her travels. More than once, Lexie caught distinct interest in his inquisitive look and pointed questions. Of course, she’d convinced herself that a man’s mere curiosity was genuine interest once before.

  Regardless, she owed Coop for staying with her. He could have gone home while she and her parents dealt with the hospital, but he’d insisted on being there for Lexie and making sure Charlotte was okay. No doubt about it, the man was a keeper.

  Shaken by the thought, Lexie focused on her grandmother. She let them into the apartment and turned to find Charlotte standing behind her, looking tired and frail. “Grandma, please just get a good night’s sleep, okay? We’ll talk more in the morning,” Lexie said, drained beyond belief.

  Charlotte nodded and padded off to bed.

  As soon as she heard the bedroom door close, Lexie dropped onto the couch with a thud. Her entire body ached, but nothing hurt as much as her heart at the thought of losing her grandmother.

  Coop knelt beside her and brushed her hair off her face. “The doctor said she’s fine,” he said, reading her mind.

  “But her blood pressure is still too
high. She needs to have her medication regulated.”

  “And she will.” His reassuring tone relaxed her, as it had all evening.

  “Did you happen to notice that it wasn’t Dad’s comments that sent her over the edge—it was when I brought up the necklace?”

  Coop nodded, having realized the same thing. He hadn’t planned to bring up the subject, but now that Lexie had broached it first, he agreed. “She definitely didn’t want to discuss it.”

  “Because she has something to hide and she knows we are onto her.”

  He caught the pain in her voice, but again couldn’t deny the truth.

  “If we confront her, will her blood pressure skyrocket? I mean, do you think we could bring on a heart attack or a stroke?” She rubbed her temples with both hands.

  He wished he could think of something that would offer comfort or reassurance, but so far he hadn’t a clue.

  “Would you mind getting me some Tylenol from the medicine cabinet in the hall bathroom?” she asked. “My head’s killing me.”

  “Sure thing.” Grateful for something useful to do, he rose and headed for the bathroom to get the pills and then to the kitchen for a glass of water.

  He returned a few minutes later to find that Lexie had already fallen asleep.

  He placed the tablets and water on the table, then settled onto the couch beside her, unsure of whether to cover her with a blanket and leave her here, or move her into her room for a more comfortable night’s sleep. For now he did neither, gently removing her glasses, putting them aside and settling in, content to listen to the sound of her breathing.

  The low and steady in and out sound was at odds with the conflict raging on inside her. The grandmother she adored had a past she wanted to keep hidden, and the harder she and Coop pressured her to reveal the truth, the more they might jeopardize her health.

  Unfortunately, Coop didn’t know how to operate any way but honestly, by digging into the past. He had a hunch Lexie needed to know, too, for peace and closure, if nothing else. They’d agreed on that.