Instead, he found himself facing a striking brunette with straight hair parted to one side and bluntly cut to her shoulders. Long, wispy strands framed a pretty face, partially hidden by funky black-framed glasses. Still, he detected high cheekbones and his gaze was drawn to her full, sexy lips. Besides her lush mouth, her eyes were her most outstanding feature, even behind the clear lenses. Her irises were wide and dark, color to be determined, thanks to the fading light.
The glasses lent an aura of intelligence to her otherwise seductive features. She presented a puzzle he wanted to take apart and put back together with a deeper understanding.
But just because he was attracted to her didn’t mean she wasn’t one of his stalkers. “Okay, I’ve lightened my load. So who are you and what are you doing back here?” he asked warily.
She flashed him a bright smile and he added nice teeth to her attributes. “I’m waiting for you,” she said.
An unreasonable sense of disappointment filled him at her reply. “Well, I’m not interested.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned for the alley exit.
“How do you know when you haven’t even heard what I have to say?” she called to him.
Despite himself, he paused midstride and turned. “Because you’re female, you waited for me out back and you admitted that you’re interested!”
“Not in you!” she corrected, sounding appalled at the notion, bruising Coop’s ego in the process.
What was wrong with him, he wondered.
“I’m interested in your ring!” She lifted her hand to illustrate her point, showing him a flash of multiple rings on her fingers.
“You and every other husband-seeking female in the city,” he muttered, even as he pondered where she’d put an engagement ring among the vast assortment of other jewelry she wore.
She pursed those seductive lips together and frowned. “Not in that way!” She dug into an oversize bag that hung from her shoulder and pulled out a photo. “Look. This is my grandmother and she’s wearing a necklace that looks like a match to the ring I saw you accept on TV.”
Surprised by her explanation, Coop took the photo, but the waning daylight didn’t provide enough light for him to get a good look. “It’s too dark to see,” he said, handing the picture back to her.
“Well, trust me. It looks like a match.”
He already knew the ring had once been part of a set. Was her grandmother really in possession of the matching necklace or was the story just a ruse to get closer to him?
Coop’s reporter’s instincts told him she was sincere in her quest. And he had to admit that she wasn’t acting like a woman who was interested in the city’s newest bachelor.
Her admitted lack of interest bugged him. Especially since he was curious about her—and not just because of her supposed connection to his ring, which he had tucked deep into his front pants’ pocket.
But he wasn’t about to show her the ring until he knew more of her story. “Where did your grandmother get the necklace?” he asked, wondering if she’d come into possession of the item second- or thirdhand after it had been stolen.
“Look, do you think we could have this conversation somewhere else? Anywhere else would work for me. The stench of garbage is killing me.” She waved her hand in front of her face, crinkling her nose.
Coop shook his head and grinned. “Smart as well as beautiful.”
Behind her lenses, her eyes opened wide.
“Tell you what. I need to go home and shower. I can’t tell you how many of the letters I just junked were covered in perfume. Would you want to meet up with me for a drink?” He invited her on a whim, but as he waited for an answer, his heart began pounding harder inside his chest.
She tipped her head to one side. “You’ll bring the ring?”
He nodded. “You’ll bring the photo?”
“Of course.”
“Got a pen?” he asked, attempting nonchalance when in reality he was pumped at the notion of seeing her again.
She dug into her oversize purse and handed him something to write with. “Here. Use this.” She turned over the back of the photo.
“How’s eight o’clock?” he asked.
“Works for me.”
He jotted down the name of his father’s bar and grill, a place his old man had opened after retirement. Cops hung out there on their time off. The beer was good and the food better. It was casual enough for a business meeting and located on a well-traveled street where she’d feel safe with a virtual stranger.
Which reminded him. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” he said.
“I’m Lexie Davis.” She extended her hand and he took it.
“Short for Alexandra?”
“Alexis. My parents are pretty uptight. I changed it as soon as I was old enough to speak.”
He laughed, enjoying the feel of her palm against his. Soft and feminine, her hand was small, yet he had no doubt this woman could stand up for herself. He liked her spunk and determination.
“And you’re the infamous Sam Cooper,” she said as she released her grasp.
He glanced at her curiously.
“The current Bachelor needs no introduction.” She wrinkled her nose, dismissing his current status.
“So you’re really not into the whole Bachelor Blog thing?” he asked, intrigued.
She shook her head. “No self-respecting woman would chase after a man just because he’s single and in possession of a ring…” Her voice trailed off and she grinned, obviously catching her description of herself.
He laughed. “Relax, Lexie. We’ve already established you’re not interested in me,” he said, his voice gruffer than he’d intended.
“Says who?” She took back the photo and stuffed it into her bag. “See you at eight.” With a brief wave, she turned and strode down the alley, giving him a chance to check out the rest of her lovely assets, encased in white jeans and a loose tank top as she walked away.
LEXIE RUSHED BACK to her grandmother’s apartment on the West Side and hurried to shower and change for her meeting with Sam Cooper.
“Sam Cooper.” She let the name roll off her tongue, smooth and easy, like Kahlua and cream, her favorite drink.
She put her key in the door and entered the apartment. As usual, the smell of violets, her grandmother’s fragrance of choice, assaulted her senses.
“Grandma? Are you home?” Lexie called out.