White-Hot Hack
“Not really.”
“You want to just chill for the rest of the day? I can find something for us to watch.”
“Yeah.”
She got under the covers with him, pulled his head onto her chest, and stroked it while they watched a movie.
“That feels good. I like it almost as much as when you stroke the other one.” He sounded drowsy, and Kate didn’t think it would be long before he fell asleep.
“Why don’t you close those gorgeous green eyes of yours and take a nap?” She eased herself out from under him, kissed his forehead, and pulled the sheet up around his shoulders. “Nurse Kate will be back to check on you in a little while.”
The next morning when Kate opened her eyes, the tickle in the back of her sore throat and her aching head told her that whatever illness Ian had come down with had made its way to her. Of course it did, she thought.
Unfortunately, Ian was in no shape to attend to her. He’d been up half the night coughing and hadn’t gotten back to sleep until almost four a.m.
“Will you hand me some more of that cold medicine?” he asked. He was spooning her, and it felt like his body was made of hot, molten lava.
“It’s all gone.” Kate had discovered that when she’d taken the last two capsules around seven. “I might have some Motrin in my purse.”
“Are you sick too?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Truthfully, Kate didn’t really mind that she’d come down with whatever he had. It’s not like it was the first time she’d ever been sick, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. He sounded miserable, and Kate knew the way he felt was a pretty good preview of how she’d likely feel tomorrow when her illness progressed. The second day was always the worst. “I’ll be right back.” She went into the kitchen to get her purse, relieved to find that she did in fact have a half-full bottle of Motrin in it. She filled two tall glasses with ice water and grabbed another box of Kleenex on her way back to their bedroom.
“I love you, sweetness,” Ian said after he took the Motrin and drained his glass.
“I love you too.”
They were lying in bed, wallowing in their individual misery, when Kate heard a series of light taps on the door. “Diane? Is everything okay? Mr. Smith isn’t in his office.”
“Oh thank God, Renee is here,” Ian said.
They’d thrown back the covers and neither of them were wearing clothes, not because they were feeling the slightest bit amorous, but because they were generating a significant amount of body heat.
“Hi, Renee. Will’s in here with me. We seem to have come down with a little something and we could use a few things if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Is it okay if I come in?” she asked.
“We have to get back under the covers,” Kate whispered. “Her job duties do not include seeing us naked.”
“Technically, she’s already seen me naked.”
“Go ahead, Renee. It’s unlocked,” Kate said once they were fully covered. “Don’t come too close. I’d feel horrible if you came down with this.”
“We have tuberculosis,” Ian added. “It’s wildly contagious.”
“We do not have tuberculosis. We have mild upper respiratory infections, and we’re both going to live.”
Ian experienced a rather sudden and violent coughing attack. “Mild?”
“Hush,” she said placing a hand over his mouth.
“Let me grab a pen and some paper so I can write down what you need.”
They finished giving Renee their list, and she left for the store. Ian leaned over and pulled back the sheet, exposing Kate’s naked body from the waist up.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I don’t care how horrible I feel. I’m rubbing Vicks on your chest.”
Renee checked on them before she went home for the day and asked if there was anything they needed.
“I think we’re good for now,” Kate said. “Thank you so much.”
“Call me if there’s anything you need, and I’ll be happy to bring it by. I hope you feel better soon.”
Kate had told Ian that rest was the thing they needed most as they waited for the illness to run its course, so they spent most of the day in bed, sleeping or watching TV.
After waking up from one of their many naps, Ian reached for his phone to check his e-mail. “Oh, you’re going to love this, sweetness. It’s from the CIO regarding my report on the findings of our joint social engineering assignment.”
“I imagine he had plenty to say.”
“Judging by the length of this e-mail, it appears he did.” A coughing attack prevented him from reading the words, and when it finally subsided, he rubbed his chest. “Damn, that hurts. Okay, listen to this. ‘Dear Mr. Smith. I’m extremely disappointed that our agreed-upon terms for the security audit were so blatantly disregarded by your firm.’”
Kate laughed. “He’s clearly unaware of your shortcomings when it comes to following the rules.”
“I can really only get away with it once. They start to wise up after that.” He scrolled through the message and continued reading. “‘I find your unauthorized attendance at the IT staff meeting especially brazen.’”
“It’s like he doesn’t know you at all.”
“Four paragraphs in and he’s still complaining. Maybe I’ll just skip to the part where he acknowledges our hard work.”
“Assuming he does.”
“‘However, your firm has shed light on the many security deficiencies of this organization, and the suggestions you’ve outlined will be implemented immediately.’” Ian shot her a smug look. “Did I call this, or what?”
“You did.”
Ian scanned the rest of the e-mail. “‘I will remind you, however, that per your offer there will be no monetary compensation.’”
He started typing, saying the words aloud as he composed his reply. “As promised, there will be no invoice issued for our services. In lieu of payment, please send along a written referral as I’m sure you have plenty of colleagues who would also benefit from our expertise. And if it’s not too much trouble, I’d really appreciate it if you could write a short recommendation for my testimonials page. A paragraph or two is plenty.”
Later that evening, Kate filled the tub and convinced Ian a hot bath would do wonders for his aching body.
“Come on,” she said. “You can even be in front.”
He lowered himself into the tub and leaned back against Kate’s chest. She scooped handfuls of warm water onto his head, and when his hair was wet, she massaged the shampoo into his scalp with her fingers.
He groaned softly. “Tuberculosis isn’t completely horrible.”
“That’s the spirit,” she said, rinsing the shampoo with handfuls of water.
“There’s no one else I’d rather be sick with. There’s no one else I’d rather be healthy with either.” His voice sounded congested and hoarse, and yet there was no mistaking the conviction in it.
She kissed his wet head. “Me too.” It didn’t matter that their noses were red and both of them looked pretty rough. All that mattered to Kate was that they were together.
She became engulfed in a coughing attack followed by a giant sneeze.
“Did you just sneeze on my head?” he asked.
“No way. That would be gross.”
He laughed when she reached for the shampoo and washed his hair again.
A day and a half later, they were both feeling much better. Kate seemed to have bounced back a bit faster than Ian, but her immune system was probably stronger considering she came into contact with germs more frequently than he did. She was going stir-crazy after lying in bed for so long and felt desperate to leave the house. After taking a hot shower, she pulled on some clothes while Ian lounged in bed, scrolling through the TV channels.
“I’m going to the store. I’m tired of soup and feel like cooking something that requires a knife and fork to ea
t.”
“Can’t Renee go for you?”
“She’s not coming today. She went to visit her daughter and son-in-law. I can pick up the groceries. I’m not feeling too bad.”
“How can you not be?”
Kate laughed to herself. Her hacker husband might be invincible in most scenarios, but he was a typical man when it came to being sick. And this is why women have the babies. “Take a hot shower. I guarantee you’ll feel better.” She kissed him good-bye. “Back soon.”
Kate usually drove the Tahoe when she went on a grocery run, but that day she chose the Porsche. It was almost Thanksgiving and the weather would be turning soon, which meant she’d have to park the sports car until spring. She decided to take a nice long drive and then pop into Safeway on her way back through town.
She hadn’t driven the Spyder since she’d started working for Ian, and it felt good to be behind the wheel again. Her familiar route beckoned, and on a long and fairly deserted stretch of the highway, she cranked up the stereo and tapped the shift paddle in time to the music as the car zoomed along. Her mind wandered as she thought about the upcoming holidays and Chad and Kristin’s wedding. There were more social engineering strategies to plan, and Ian had promised to start teaching her phishing techniques she could implement from her home computer. She looked forward to seeing if she could convince people to click on the links she sent them, which would give her access to their networks.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts and the music that at first she didn’t realize the car had begun to lose speed. She turned down the stereo so she could listen for any troubling engine sounds and was alarmed to discover she couldn’t hear the engine at all. The speedometer reading fell rapidly, and she pulled over to the shoulder as the car coasted to a gentle stop. It seemed odd that such a new and expensive vehicle would be having mechanical problems already.
She was about to call Ian when her phone rang and his name flashed onto the touch screen. She hit the hands-free button on the steering wheel. “Hey. I was just going to call you.”
“One hundred and two miles an hour? Seriously, Kate?”
It wasn’t a mechanical problem at all.
It was her husband.
“Oh my God, you did not hack my car.”
“Yes I did.”
“Does that special app of yours track my every move?”
“Technically, yes. But I wasn’t spying on you. I wrote a program to monitor your speed, and it sends an alert anytime you exceed one hundred miles per hour. Imagine my surprise when the most annoying beeping interrupted my nice hot shower.”
“One hundred? That’s it?”
“One hundred miles per hour is quite generous.”
“So then you just… killed the engine? You don’t think that was a bit heavy-handed?”
“How so?”
“You could have called me and told me to slow down.”
“I had to act quickly. Cutting the engine and bringing your car to a nice, gradual stop is highly preferable to the jarring and abrupt stop that would have occurred had you hit a tree or other inanimate object.”
“You hacked my car.” It shouldn’t have surprised her because clearly the man could hack anything.
“I thought we’d already determined that.”
“You’re the one who bought it for me. You said you wanted me to have fun with it. I was having fun.”
“Yes, but if I’d known you had a death wish, I would have bought you something slower. Like a Ford Focus.”
“Turn my car back on,” she said as sternly as she could.
The engine purred to life. “Carry on, sweetness, but please drive safely. I’ll be waiting for you at home.”
She went into Safeway and filled her cart with enough groceries to make dinner for the next several days and pushed it out to the car. She reached into her purse for her key fob, but it wasn’t there. She specifically remembered locking the car and throwing the fob into the inside pocket of her bag, where she always kept it. Maybe she’d missed the pocket and the fob had settled among the contents at the bottom of her purse. After sifting through everything twice, she shook her head in confusion.
Oh, goddamn. Had she dropped it on the ground by mistake? She retraced her steps but didn’t find it. Inside the store she spoke to an employee who promised to keep an eye out for it and call her if anyone found it.
Back outside, she leaned against the car and pulled her phone out of her purse.
Kate: I have apparently lost my key.
Fifteen seconds later, the locks of the car popped up with a loud click. Five seconds after settling herself behind the wheel, the engine turned on.
Ian: Is there anything else I can help you with, sweetness?
Kate: No thank you. I’m sure I can handle it from here.
Ian was lounging in their bed when she got home, shower fresh, with wet hair and his naked chest on full display. A sheet covered him below the waist, but Kate could almost guarantee his upper body wasn’t the only part of him that lacked clothing. The detritus of their illness—the crumpled Kleenexes, the water glasses, the Vicks and the cold medicine—had all been cleared away. She stood in the doorway, leaning against it with her arms crossed in front of her.
He stretched, shooting her a calculated smile in the process. “You were right about the shower. I’m feeling so much better.”
“Is there anything you won’t hack?”
“I put fresh sheets on the bed and everything.”
“I’m driving along and the engine just… cuts out,” Kate said.
“I lit that candle you like. Can you smell it?”
She inhaled the mix of sandalwood and vanilla. “How is it even possible to hack a car?”
He scoffed. “That car is nothing but a smart phone on wheels. If it’s connected to a network, I can hack it. First I— Well, I can tell by your expression you don’t want to hear exactly how I did it.”
“No, I don’t.” Well, maybe a little. The fact that he could hack a moving vehicle fascinated her, but his continued disregard for boundaries frustrated her enough that she would postpone asking him to explain it.
“You risked your safety after promising me you wouldn’t drive so fast. So really I’m the one who should be mad.”
“Why was it okay when I drove a hundred and ten miles an hour in the Shelby?” Ha! She had him there.
“Because I was in the car with you, and I hadn’t yet made you my wife. I wouldn’t have wanted any harm to come to you back then, but I really can’t handle the thought of something happening to you now. It would end me.”
It was really hard to stay mad at him when he said things like that.
Something unspoken passed between them, and her expression softened. Her need for boundaries and his need for freedom would always be at war, and that would never change. His methods might have been heavy-handed, but his heart was in the right place. He’d come a long way, but she doubted he would ever completely lose his impulsive, free-spirited ways and there would probably always be a wild-card component to his behavior. He’d tried to temper it for her, but it was like trying to keep air from escaping a balloon that had a tiny hole in it. Eventually it was going to leak out.
She pictured herself nuzzling her face in his neck and catching a whiff of soap on his clean skin.
He looked at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “Why don’t you come over here?”
“We both know what will happen if I do.” Ian’s sex appeal would always be his mightiest superpower.
“Exactly. Please hurry.”
“I have groceries to put away.”
“I’ll put them away for you. Afterward. It’s been three days. We’ll barely need any time at all.”
She walked toward him but stopped halfway.
“Aw, sweetness. You’re going to make me work for it, aren’t you? Come closer. I just want to kiss you.”
She was trying hard not to smile because she wanted him as much as he wanted her
, and it was only her lingering obstinacy that stood between them.
“Right here,” he said, patting the bed beside him.
She sat down and he slid his hand up the back of her shirt, pulling her closer so that their mouths were only inches apart. Kate’s body buzzed with desire as their lips danced, almost touching, each of them withholding their full commitment to the kiss as they waited for the other to give in. He might have coaxed her back into their bed, but she would not give him the satisfaction of surrendering first. His hand slid under her jaw and he closed his eyes. So did she. Then he brushed her lips with his and pulled away. She opened her mouth slightly, searching. It would feel so good to let him in, to kiss him deeply. He brushed her lips again and she felt just the tip of his tongue. Expecting him to do it again, she was surprised when he used his teeth to gently bite her bottom lip. She wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer, especially if he did that again, and seconds before her resolve crumbled for good, he broke.
He opened his mouth and wound his fingers tightly in her hair to hold her in place as he kissed her roughly, with abandon. There was something primal and barely contained in the way neither of them could stop kissing the other, and it seemed to go on for hours. He reached for her hands when they finally came up for air and interlocked their fingers.
“I won,” she said, her chest rising and falling.
“Did you? Because I’m about to take off all your clothes. If that’s losing, you can win every time.”
“You kissed me first.”
“And that kiss definitely needs a number.”
“Nine.”
“Or we can just call it the ‘I’m sorry’ kiss.”
“I’m not sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry, but you do have to slow down, Katherine Bradshaw,” he said in a whisper that tickled her ear. He kissed her again, and then he took off her clothes and she forgot all about the groceries.
Like he said, it had been three days.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Do you want to go out for coffee with us?” one of the women in her Pilates class asked as Kate hung up her jacket and stowed her purse in a locker, shaking raindrops from her hair. The temperature had dropped and it had been raining off and on for the past two days.