Chasing Headlines – Book Tour and Giveaway

Coop frowned and pushed the license back at me. “Fine. Go find your interview.” He fixed me with a razor-sharp look. “Try being human.”

I seethed. “Look who’s talking, ass.”

“Bite me.”

“No, thanks.” I snagged my license. “I hear you’re poisonous.” I called out over my shoulder as I walked away.

Ugh! How could one person be so aggravatingly obnoxious and-and! Irritating, smug, a total jerkwad? I got to the door, yanked on the handle with a huff, but it wouldn’t open. I tried again, but it didn’t budge. I took my temper out on the door for a half second, pulling and jiggling and mentally willing the blasted thing to magically open.

I turned and puffed hair out of my face. “Do you need to unlock the door or something?”

“I’m on my lunch break.” He gestured at an apple perched on the edge of the counter, then picked it up, studying it. “You’ll have to wait. Or you could leave.” He took a bite.

Another time I might have admired those thick, juicy lips practically kissing the flesh of that fruit. His tongue darting out of his mouth as he bit into juicy, crispy appleness. My stomach growled. When did I last eat?

He dropped his head toward his shoulder as he chewed. His eyes had the nerve to twinkle as he stared, and my traitorous skin flushed hot all over.

I wanted to wring his neck, take his apple and kiss him—into next week.

Or just wring his neck. Argh!

Instead, I smiled through pressed lips and batted my eyelashes. “I can wait. It’ll give us a chance to spend time together.” I shrugged and took a few steps toward him. “I’ll just pull up a chair and keep you company while you eat.” I grabbed my phone from my purse. “Or, since I can’t meet with Mrs. Schreiber, I could just, you know, interview you.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “No comment.”

“Stop being a child and let me in.”

He took another bite of apple and chewed.

God, I hated him. He left me no choice but to do exactly what I’d threatened. I grabbed a chair from against the wall. As soon as I picked it up, a buzzing sound rung out. The click of a lock. Ah-ha! I turned and shuffled toward the door. I grasped the handle, and—

Ca-clack. I pulled. Locked.

“It only stays unlocked for a few seconds.” He made a “tsk” sound.

I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath. “Would you please open the door?”

“You had your chance.”

Fine. If that was the way he was going to play it. I’d lettered in track in high school as a sprinter. The door was likely on at least a fifteen second delay. I could still win this.

I dropped my bag on the ground by the door—then unbuttoned the two top buttons on my blouse and adjusted…things. I pulled the scrunchy from my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders. I spun around, hiked up my skirt to mid-thigh and did my best Dublin Serra, runway model, impression—toward him. “You know, I never properly thanked you.” I lowered my lashes and swung my hips as I walked.

Cooper sat up in his chair. I glanced at the counter and found the button for the door, then met his eyes. “Your shirt, I love to wear it when I’m alone.” Did that sound sexy? I felt rather idiotic, but his gaze traveled lower as I continued my saunter. Maybe this was working? I needed to distract him, just for a fraction of a second.

He spun his chair to face me. Those powerful thighs in scrub pants curved over the edge of the seat. His legs shifted as I grew closer, moving further apart. His shoes perched on top of the casters. Perfect.

He met my gaze as I leaned over him, placing one hand on the back of his chair. His pupils dilated. I dipped closer—into his very personal space. “I sleep in it at night.” I breathed against his ear. “Your shirt, Breslin.”

His breath hitched. Something thudded onto the floor. His mouth opened and his tongue licked at his bottom lip.

“And only . . .” Something magnetic pulled at me, urging me closer.

My heart thudded wildly. The heat from his skin, his woodsy, masculine scent, the faint sweetness of the apple I could likely taste on his tongue. If I just . . . moved a bit . . .closer.

So tempting . . .