Heart-Shaped Hack(21)

“Repeat after me: I, Ian.”

“I, Ian.”

“Will never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever walk in on Kate in the bathroom again unless specifically invited to do so.”

“Will never ever, ever—how many evers was that?”

“Ever, infinity.”

“Ever, infinity, walk in on Katie in the bathroom again unless specifically invited to do so.” Ian took a drink of his coffee. “I feel like that last part means the possibility of a future invitation exists, which is encouraging.”

He handed Kate a mug of steaming dark roast, and she sat down beside him.

When he started to speak, she held up her hand. “I have not had enough coffee to deal with you yet.”

Ian turned his attention back to his laptop and waited until Kate took the last drink from her mug.

“You know that saying, ‘Act now, apologize later?’ I’m pretty much the poster boy.”

Kate looked at Ian. “You think?”

“I’m truly sorry. Is there anything I can do to make us even?”

“Well, I’d threaten to walk in on you in the shower, but we both know how that would turn out.” Kate handed her empty mug to Ian, who wisely returned to the kitchen to refill it.

When he came back with her coffee, she said, “I thought you left after you put me to bed.”

“First of all, I can’t lock your door from the outside without a key, and there’s no way I’d let you sleep in an unsecured apartment. Second, what kind of man would leave a woman alone when she was in such rough shape? I was worried. I even checked on you in the middle of the night. You were a hot, snoring, drooling mess, but other than that you seemed okay.”

“I did tell you yesterday that I wasn’t feeling especially pretty.”

“Even when you’re sick, you’re a solid eight point five.”

“How very sweet in a completely sexist way.”

“When you’re not sick you’re an eleven.”

She took a drink of her coffee to hide her smile. Ian walked over to the fireplace, crouched down, and began stacking logs. When the fire crackled to life, Kate wished her nose wasn’t so stuffy because the wood-burning fireplace was one of the things she loved most about her apartment. The fireplace in her and Stuart’s apartment had been gas, but in Kate’s opinion nothing compared to the real thing.

Ian stood up and brushed his hands together. “Who were you thinking about in the bathtub, Katie?” he asked, coming over to stand in front of her.

“How can you be so sure I was thinking of someone?”

“Your left nipple was noticeably erect, the image of which is now burned into my brain. Therefore I deduced there might have been a man on your mind.”

Her body temperature spiked suddenly, and it had nothing to do with a fever. “A girl needs to be able to keep some secrets from you.”

“Well, he’s a lucky man, whoever he is.” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

“I said no kissing!”

“Oh, relax. I’m going home to shower and pick up some food. Don’t get off this couch.” He jingled his car keys, threw on his coat, and said, “Back soon.”



He returned an hour later, hair damp, wearing sweatpants and a long-sleeve T-shirt, which made him look especially cuddly to Kate. He was holding two large carryout bags. The sky had darkened even though it was only half past noon, and large white flakes were swirling through the air.

“First snowfall,” Kate said. “We’re supposed to get six inches.”

“I heard,” he said. “It’s getting slick already. I have got to get the Shelby into storage.” He set the bags on the kitchen counter. “Hungry?”

It had been over twenty-four hours since she’d eaten anything, and her stomach had started to rumble, which she took as a positive sign. “Yes.”

Ian threw another log on the fire and gave it a poke before disappearing back into the kitchen. The clinking of silverware and dishes followed, and he returned with two plates on which sat a grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of chicken noodle soup.

“This is perfect,” Kate said, taking one of the plates from him. “It’s actually the only thing that sounds good to me.”

“I thought it might. There’s plenty more to heat up for dinner later. I brought a few other things too, in case you want something different. And just so you know, it’s not exactly what I’d envisioned, but I’m still going to consider this our third date.” He ducked back into the kitchen for a glass of orange juice for Kate and a Coke for himself.

“What did you have planned for us?” she asked.

“I’d made three reservations: seafood, steakhouse, Mexican. When I went to the food pantry yesterday morning, I was going to ask what you preferred. Then after dinner we were going to see a movie—one of those romantic comedies you like so much. On our way home we’d stop for drinks or dessert—your choice. Naturally you’d choose drinks, and I’d ply you with chardonnay in a halfhearted attempt to convince you to change your mind about what might happen at the end of our third date.”

“I wouldn’t have changed my mind, but that sounds like a great date. I’m sad it didn’t happen.”