Chasing Strength: A Small Town Steamy Romance (Harper Family series Book 4)

by Nancy Stopper

  After that, it was easy enough to pivot to other topics. He’d sat back and allowed her melodic voice to wash over him as she answered. The smiles came easy and the conversation light as she talked about her life.

  Against his better judgement, he wanted to explore what made Alexis tick.

  “I was thinking that I could pick your brain. You know, talk about some of the stories you’ve written. See if they trigger any good plot bunnies.”

  That was soooo not a good idea. Every minute he spent with Alexis was a minute longer than he should. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a conversation with a woman as much as he did Alexis. As it was, he couldn’t stop thinking about whether her lips would be soft or firm when he kissed her. In another circumstance, at another time, he’d be the one to suggest another get together.

  Oh, yeah, he was attracted to her all right. The minute he’d spotted her sitting at the table and she’d smiled up at him, his heart slammed in his chest. The pull he felt toward her roared like a lion.

  She stared at him expectantly, like she was expecting an answer. He’d punt and see if that was good enough. “We don’t really have crime in Cedar Hill like the stories you write.”

  “Maybe not, but you go behind the scenes. Dig into the details of the story behind the story. That must be so fascinating. I’d love to talk about that with you. Maybe I could drop by the office.”

  That twinkle returned to her eye, and damn if he didn’t want to see more of it. What in the hell was he doing? Alexis coming by the paper was a terrible idea. He had no business getting involved with her. Getting involved meant getting closer, and he couldn’t do that.

  Except, apparently, he could. Or his mouth jumped right ahead of his brain. “I guess I can make that happen.”

  Chapter 5

  The sun was barely peeking over the trees in Alexis’s back yard when she opened her eyes. With her hands tucked behind her head, she stared out the window at the yellow rays that brightened the world as it came to life for another day.

  Damn, when had she gotten so poetic? Guess she remembered something from that college poetry class after all. She should get a good night’s sleep more often.

  She stretched her arms above her head and then sat up. Her mind was clear, her body didn’t ache, and she was up with the sun. Before her recent dive into late night drinking, she’d always been an early bird, the epitome of the slogan, “We get more done before nine a.m. than most people do all day.”

  Not for a long time, though. Too many late nights, too much alcohol, and too little sleep usually meant a rough morning, her head shoved under the pillow, her body desperate for a few more hours of rest. It was no wonder her muse had abandoned her for greener pastures.

  But not today. Today, ideas raced through her mind and she couldn’t wait to start her day. For the first time in a long time, she was excited about the book she was writing.

  But was it the book, or the meeting with Chris, that had her hopping out of bed this morning?

  She had to admit, she’d walked away from lunch the other day with as many questions as she’d had when she arrived... and a new stirring in her heart that wasn’t wholly unwelcome. Chris was everything she’d imagined he would be and more. The gentleness she’d remembered in his eyes was still there—a tenderness that she chose to believe he reserved solely for her.

  What kind of man rescued a woman from a dangerous situation and then didn’t take advantage? A good guy, that was who. She hadn’t encountered many of them in her life. But then again, she’d never really been interested in good guys. Whether it was to annoy her father or to get his attention, she wasn’t sure, but from the time she first noticed the boys in high school, the ones with the leather jackets and motorcycles had been her rebellion.

  She could still remember Dad’s face the first time she’d raced out the door and climbed on the back of a bike. He had turned ten shades of red. At least he’d paid attention to her when he was yelling about the good-for-nothings who came to the door.

  But her taste in men hadn’t changed after Dad died. Bad boys were still her go-to. Maybe it was too late for her to explore other types after all this time, or maybe the bad boys reminded her of her father and the love that she’d desperately needed but never gotten from him.

  So what had changed that she was spending so much time thinking about Chris? After she’d watched him pull away from the restaurant, he’d consumed her thoughts for most of the afternoon and well into the evening. She’d imagined him sitting beside her on the couch, her feet tucked beneath her as they shared a glass of wine and discussed news or politics. She could almost feel him gather her up, his arms tightening around her as he pulled her in for a kiss. Pictured his eyes closed as he ran his tongue along…

  Stop it, Alexis. She had no business fantasizing about Chris. He wasn’t her type and there was no way she was his. Besides, he deserved more than she could give him. Her trip to the newspaper office today was about her book and nothing else. She already had a contact at the Sheriff’s department, so she probably didn’t need to add a reporter to the mix. Regardless, she was going through with it. She’d spend the time talking about some of the seedier articles he’d had to write, garner tips about his investigative style, and then pour those ideas into her book. That would be the end of it. She wouldn’t have to see him again.

  More like he wouldn’t want to see her again. She’d sensed his hesitation when she’d asked about coming by his office. As if he were trying to find a polite way to let her down. See, he was a good guy. She’d all but guilted him into saying yes. Why else would he have agreed?

  She stopped herself before she could spin into that pity cycle again. What good did it do her to wish for things that couldn’t be? Her issues weren’t with Chris. She’d been screwed up long before she met him, and she probably always would be.

  But today was a good day because she could feel the ideas forming and her fingers itched to hit the keyboard, spinning the dark images in her mind into words on the page.

  But every bit of caution flew out of her mind the minute she stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the Gazette. Her heart kicked up a beat and she felt an unfamiliar flutter in her belly, two things that didn’t usually happen when she met one of her other experts.

  She stared at the brick and glass building right down the block from her brother-in-law Tanner’s teen center. Nothing had changed in the years since she’d been here, an eager teenager hoping to make a difference on her hometown paper. Why hadn’t she told Chris she’d interned at the paper in high school? It was another interest they had in common, but she held that tidbit back. Maybe she refused to allow herself to remember the good times from her childhood, and the Gazette offices had been home to some of her best memories.

  From the first day Alexis’s English teacher had encouraged her to pour her thoughts into a journal, she’d known that writing would be a big part of her life. The chance to intern for the local paper not only fed that need but gave her an outlet away from home when she needed an escape. That was, until going out with her friends had become more important, and she’d left her days at the Gazette in her rearview mirror.

  After she’d finished her degree, she thought that she’d come back and work on the paper. Shoot, if she had, she’d have met Chris long before now. But she quickly realized her talent lay in writing novels. And three years of writing and rewriting, working a variety of jobs to support herself, she had scored a two-book deal with a big-five publishing imprint.

  She had fond memories of her time at the Gazette. The irony wasn’t lost on her that her life had come full circle.

  She’d stalled long enough. Was she nervous about being reminded of those days, or was she nervous about seeing Chris again? Probably both. Either way, she was done taking a walk down memory lane.

  She drew in a deep breath and pushed open the glass door… and was transported back ten years. The same worn out, tan-speckled linoleum covered the floor in the lob
by. That pattern had been ancient when she was a kid and they still hadn’t bothered to update it. The reception counter that stretched across the middle of the room still bore the same muddy brown wood paneling that went out of fashion in the late 70s.

  But the face behind the desk was different. The little pixie-haired girl probably wasn’t any older than Alexis had been when she’d worked here as a teenager. “Can I help you?”

  Well, here goes nothing. She stepped up to the counter and plastered on a smile. “I’m here to see Chris, uh, Chris Kennedy.”

  “Alexis Harper, as I live and breathe.” The big, booming voice of Lawrence McConnell rang out from the doorway to the newsroom. She smiled as he rushed across the lobby, pulling her into a hug as soon as he rounded the counter. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “You, too, Mr. McConnell.”

  “None of that Mr. McConnell crap. Call me Larry. How have you been? I was sorry to hear about your father. I’ve been reading good things about you in the trades. I loved your first book and can’t wait for the follow up.”

  Larry’s ability to bounce from topic to topic without even taking a breath had always been exhausting. But it still felt like home when she sank into his hug, his thick arms surrounding her. There might be a few more gray hairs and an extra fifteen pounds since the last time she’d seen him, but he was the same Larry, with those same ridiculous, red suspenders he wore every freaking day.

  Larry had been more of a father-figure to her than her own father during the years she’d worked here. She’d made up excuses to spend time in the newsroom instead of going home. She’d forgotten that until just now. Why had she turned her back on one of the few good things in her life?

  “I’ve been good. Thanks about my dad.” It was hard to be pleasant when people expressed their sympathy about Dad’s death. The image Dad had showed the rest of the world was nothing like the one he inflicted on his family. But it was easiest to simply thank them and move on. “I’m so glad you enjoyed my first book. Second book is coming along… and that’s why I’m here.”

  “Great, great. I swear, you were one of the best interns we ever had. I secretly hoped you’d come back and work for us after you got your degree, but I guess you got a better offer, huh?” He nudged her with his shoulder, a huge grin on his face. “You were, er, are really talented.”

  Talented might be a stretch. She didn’t feel talented. Not right now. And she had the stack of manuscripts under her bed that would never see the light of day to show for it, including one she’d penned by hand while she was working here at the paper. The joy that she found in writing her first published book had been elusive with her second. But she was hoping to turn that around.

  “Wait a minute, are you here because of your book?”

  “Kinda. I’m here to see Chris Kennedy.”

  Larry yelled over his shoulder. “Kennedy, get your ass out here.” Larry turned back to her. “What does Kennedy have to do with your new book? Does this have something to do with his sister?”

  Whoa, what? What about Chris’s sister? He hadn’t mentioned he had a sister, much less a mystery surrounding her.

  She didn’t have a chance to ask further before Larry grabbed her arm. “I don’t know where he is, but come on, I’ll take you back. I’m sure he’s hiding here somewhere.”

  Larry half-dragged, half-escorted her around the counter and down the well-worn carpeted hall, past the familiar cluster of cubicles, including the one she’d occupied when she was here, to an office at the end of the hall. Before she could thank him, hoping he would leave before she had to face Chris, he tapped on the doorframe and tugged her into the opening. “Hey, Kennedy. This woman says she’s here to see you.”

  Chris was head down, scribbling a note on a pad as he returned his phone receiver to the base. When he raised his head, his gaze first fell on Larry, his brows furrowed in confusion, and then he spotted her.

  And he smiled. His thick blond hair curled over his ears and the stubble from yesterday was gone. Her fingers itched to stroke his smooth cheek, to feel him lean into her touch as she pressed a kiss to his lips.

  “You made it.” He glanced briefly to Larry but immediately snapped his gaze back to her. “What are you two doing together?”

  Larry motioned for her to enter the small office as he lingered in the doorway. So much for talking to Chris alone. Maybe if she didn’t sit, Larry would get a clue and skedaddle.

  But he sure seemed like he was settling in for a lengthy conversation. “Didn’t Alexis tell you? She used to intern here, what… a thousand years ago. If things had been different, she’d be doing your job right about now. As a matter of fact, you better stay on your toes or she may very well be.”

  Laughter filled the room as Larry appreciated his own joke. Another thing that hadn’t changed about Larry—a sense of humor that only he understood. But she and Chris smiled and humored the man. When the silence grew thick, Larry tapped the doorframe again. “I’ll let you two get to whatever you had planned. Alexis, stop in before you leave and don’t wait so long before you come by again, you hear?”

  “I won’t.” She smiled, her gaze locked on Chris, as Larry stepped out the door. And then it was just the two of them.

  As Chris rounded his desk, he couldn’t take his eyes off Alexis. Her bright pink blouse brought out the color in her cheeks, and her straight black skirt hugged every one of her curves and stopped just shy of her knees. She’d finished her outfit off with a kick-ass pair of heels… and he couldn’t stop staring.

  Damn. And he’d thought their meeting today would be the last. No way in hell.

  “Ahem.”

  Heat crept up his cheeks as his gaze snapped back to hers. She raised an eyebrow at him. Busted. He motioned to one of his guest chairs. “Sorry. Have a seat.”

  Once she was settled, he sank into the other chair, leaning forward just a little so his knee brushed against hers.

  He wasn’t going to fall for Alexis. He’d shut his heart down when Robin died. Even Molly, his girlfriend at the time, hadn’t been able to break through the walls he built around his heart. After months of being ignored, she declared that she’d had enough… and left.

  It was just as well. He didn’t have anything to give to a relationship. Not while Robin’s killer was still out there. And maybe not after. Since she’d died, it had been his sole mission, an obsession, his friends would say, to find the bastard who’d done it. That was how he found himself at the right place at the right time the other night at FitzGeralds.

  Thank God for his friends. If they hadn’t dragged him out the other night, he never would have met Alexis, and who knows what could have happened to her.

  Enough of that. Alexis had come here to talk about his job and that was what he’d do. Although to listen to Larry, it sounded like she didn’t need to learn from his experience, after all. He arched an eyebrow at her and quirked a smile. “You used to work here?”

  “It was a long time ago. When I was in high school, I thought I may want to be a reporter. And interning here got me out of the house.” She leaned slightly back in her chair, just enough that her leg pressed more firmly into his.

  What were they talking about? Oh yeah, Alexis working at the paper. Chris’s reporter brain told him there was a story behind that last statement. “But you didn’t end up becoming a reporter?”

  She shook her head, her hair falling over her shoulders like a blond waterfall. “Novels are more my speed. I don’t have the killer instinct in me to do whatever it took to get a story. Not in today’s instant gratification, need-to-know-it-all-and-I-need-to-know-it-now mentality of news reporting. I didn’t want to stick my nose into other people’s personal lives and I certainly didn’t want to prod them about information they were trying to hide.”

  Most of the time, he didn’t need that set of skills, but they came in handy at times, like when Chris came across someone who had seen Robin in the hours leading up to her death. He’d used what he’d lea
rned as a reporter to coax witnesses to open up. “Reporting’s not all about interrogating witnesses, though. Sometimes I get to tell the good stories, too.”

  She whipped a notebook out of the brown bag she’d dropped at her feet and flipped the cover. “It seems you get to do that a lot. I spent some time last night scouring the archives for your articles.”

  Chris was proud of the work he’d done for the Gazette, but a ridiculously happy feeling coursed through him at the fact that Alexis had gone looking for his stories. “You know how life is in a small town. One week, the biggest news is the pumpkin festival, and the next, it’s a rash of burglaries downtown.”

  She leaned close, a twinkle in her eye. “Are there a series of burglaries downtown?”

  He knew flirting when he saw it, and Alexis was flirting with him. No problem. Two could play at this game. He grinned at her. “I don’t know. You’ll have to read the paper to find out.”

  Chris liked talking to Alexis. The back-and-forth banter. The quick looks and easy smiles. Maybe too much. “Crime doesn’t really seem to be your beat. At least not recently. I had to dig back more than a year before I found anything other than special interest stories.”

  “We mix it up sometimes. To keep each other fresh.” That sounded like a good enough excuse. Zach had handled the seedier articles recently since Chris couldn’t approach a crime scene without envisioning the body in the woods. “There’s not a lot of crime in Cedar Hill, anyway.” Except the one that had taken his sister away. “I think that’s my favorite part of living here.”

  “I read an article by another one of your reporters about the girl found murdered behind FitzGeralds late last year. Based on your earlier stuff, that seemed like it would be right up your alley.”