Love 2.0

by Lee Kilraine

  The fact that she didn’t want a relationship and that was exactly what he was looking for made it clear it was wrong to ask for another night. But oh how she’d love one more night of pleasure with Kaz. That thought caused one more of the thousand reasons why it had been a bad idea to slap up against her: Now that she’d experienced making love with Kaz, how was she going to live without it? How do you stuff that genie back into its bottle?

  To be brutally honest with herself—and she needed to be—if she still didn’t trust herself or her judgment, was it even fair to get involved in someone else’s life? If she couldn’t deal with Ivan, it was asking a lot to ask someone to take on her troubles.

  No, it wasn’t fair to Kaz and it wasn’t fair to Vivian either. That was asking too much of them. She could make all the plans she wanted and learn all the self-defense and learn to make it hard to find her, but the stalking statistics she’d been researching spoke for themselves. There was no guarantee she’d be able to get her normal life back.

  Well heck, no sense in dwelling on the negative. What she needed was a plan that would give her something to look forward to. She should probably get up out of her bed too. Her bed. Aha! She had done one thing right last night. After she and Kaz had made love a second time, she had dragged herself out of his strong arms and left.

  He hadn’t looked very happy about it, but on this one point she’d been right. Because that postcoital connection, their limbs tangled together until they were almost one, skin-to-skin, warm from passion, and sprinkling soft kisses around like glitter was all about bonding and cementing a relationship, and she couldn’t afford that. But oh, just thinking about it was a sweet, sweet dream.

  And that thought was enough to get her into the shower. A cold shower. Last night, in the soft moonlight, she’d chosen happy. It was back to reality in the bright light of day.

  She took the borrowed laptop out to the kitchen. While her coffee was brewing, she scouted out the fridge. Such healthy options, darn it. Yogurt that tasted like sour milk to her no matter how much you tried to disguise it with fruit. Eggs she’d have to cook. Blah. Hers ended up too dry and rubbery. Barely edible. It was looking like a black coffee breakfast when Kaz strolled in from the garage with a cake box in his hands. The ribbon tied around the box declared it was from Aunt Marie’s Bakery. She didn’t know who Aunt Marie was, but she was pretty sure she’d wrestle an alligator for her. Although they probably didn’t have alligators around these parts.

  “You are my hero. You and Aunt Marie. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  Kaz smiled at her and handed over the box. “You’re welcome. I was passing by as Georgie was setting up and for some crazy reason, I thought of you.”

  The four cupcakes inside the box made her smile. “Hey, all four food groups. Chocolate, vanilla, carrot, and lemon.”

  Kaz’s eyes met hers before he pulled down two mugs and poured them both coffee. After sliding one mug over to her, he leaned up against the opposite counter with a pensive expression on his face.

  Uh-oh. Here was reason 1,001 why making love last night was a bad idea. The morning-after talk. Mira actually had never had one of them before because all her sexual encounters had been inside relationships. Albeit bad relationships, but no, she’d never had a one-night stand.

  The poor guy ran a hand along the back of his neck while he figured out what to say. He opened his mouth, shook his head, and ran a hand through his hair. It was loose this morning, as if he’d left the house in a hurry because he usually had it tied back.

  With his hair down he looked dangerous, wild, and sexy as hell. And none of those thoughts are helpful. Focus, Mira.

  “So this is only slightly awkward, right?” She’d instigated the whole thing. It was up to her to say something first and put him out of his misery. “I mean, I’ve never quite done this before, but um, is this the walk of shame I’ve read about?”

  That made him grin. “No. Not even close.”

  Mira nodded and peeled back the paper on the lemon cupcake. “Good, because there wasn’t a single thing that happened last night that I’m ashamed of. But I’ll admit you were right. There are a thousand reasons we shouldn’t have—you know . . .”

  “Made love?”

  “Exactly. But as long as we don’t repeat it, I think we’ll be fine. Still friends. You helping me a bit longer and then I’ll leave town and I’ll be a fond memory, like it is for everyone else on the planet who slept with Elvis.

  “One day when it’s slow you can brag about the time you slept with Elvis.” She closed one eye and thought a minute. “Although never mind. That would only be impressive if you attended a gay Elvis convention and I’m sure they don’t have those every year. Maybe biannually. I have no idea. Am I still talking? Because in my head I’m telling myself to shut up, but my lips keep right on going.”

  Her gaze darted away from Kaz and she focused on the cupcake in her hands, which she’d turned into a pile of crumbs. Right. That made it official. She was discombobulated when she stooped to cupcake abuse.

  “Mira.”

  She jerked her head up to look at him. His brown eyes—his dark, delicious brown eyes—warmed her up and calmed her down. “Yes?”

  “Thank you for last night. It may end up being a big mistake, but I’ll remember every damn minute of it.”

  Her breath hitched in her lungs and butterflies took off and fluttered in her chest, pretty much in the vicinity of her heart. “Me too.”

  “Good. Now hand over that carrot cake cupcake before you destroy that one too.”

  “What? Kaz Cates is going to eat a cupcake?” She played up the mock shock enough to make him laugh as she placed the cupcake on a plate and handed it to him.

  “Hey, I eat junk occasionally. Besides, this one has carrots. That means I get some Vitamin A with my sugar.”

  Ooh, she’d give him some sugar. Down, girl. Stop that right now, Mira.

  “See? We can do this. We can go back to just being friends. I mean, we can’t have a repeat of last night, but we’re going to be okay, right?” She took a sip of coffee and pretended to believe everything she said.

  “Right.”

  “This is great. We can get back to the self-defense training, and I’d really like to know more about the laying-down-a-false-trail thing you mentioned. When you’re busy with work, I’ll keep looking for a new job. And we’ll get you on another date and before you know it, you’ll have a steady girlfriend and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  Huh. They stared across at each other, frozen for a moment in time. They each took a big bite of their cupcake, and for the first time in a long time, the moist deliciousness that is cake brought Mira no pleasure.

  Chapter Twenty

  Something’s got to give. That one thought reverberated through Kaz’s brain over the next week. Because the more time Kaz spent with Mira as she desperately attempted to soak up every kernel of information he taught her, the harder it was to stay objective. Being around her 24/7 was making it harder to ignore his attraction to her. He had an aching need to wrap her up in his arms and tell her he’d protect her and then make hot, passionate love to her. Stupid plan, Kaz. That was the polar opposite of what she needed.

  She was hurt, scared, and confused by the flood of long-repressed childhood memories. The last thing she needed was another man in her life. He needed to set his own impulses to the side and do what was best for Mira. And the best thing he could do for her was continue to teach her how to protect herself. Then she could move on—even if the thought of it became more unpalatable to him every day.

  What Mira wanted and needed wasn’t necessarily what he wanted, but this wasn’t about him. It couldn’t be about him, especially not when he watched with awe as she stepped into her own power and self-reliance. She was fiercely determined to never be weak again.

  So with his own impulses under control, he put in extra hours to wrap up his biggest project to double up his efforts helping Mira. The International Ba
nk of Taiwan was happy he’d been able to trace the recent multimillion-dollar hacking theft. Not that they’d be able to recover the money. The cybercriminals dispersed it quickly. But searching out and closing up their access points had shut them off—until another smarter black hat hacker came along.

  When Cooter called to say Mira’s car was ready, he glanced across his desk at her and their eyes locked. Her car, her way out of town, was a reminder that their time together was nearing the end. There was a vibration between them as each sensed Mira was getting ready to fly.

  “That’s great.” Mira sat up straighter in the leather chair. “Would you mind running me over to pick it up after we finish going over setting up private browsing on the internet? Plus, I need you to explain what a cookie is and if they’re good or bad.”

  “Sure.” He ignored the pressure squeezing his chest when he thought of Mira driving out of his life. “Although if your laptop is in your car, it might be a good idea if we grab it and then I can set you up for private browsing as we go over it.”

  Her shoulders slumped back down again. “I sold it a few months back when I was low on cash. It was a luxury I couldn’t afford and I can access the internet at the library.”

  “Then keep the one you’re using.”

  “You can’t give me a computer.”

  “Mira, look around my office. I must have six or seven laptops lying around. Take the computer.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t take your computer.”

  Kaz sat back in his chair. He didn’t think this was about refusing charity or stubbornness. No, she’d been smart enough to accept the charity of his house and meals and expertise, thank God. Or scared enough. She was too smart to put pride in front of her safety. Her chin raised another notch under his watchful eyes. Maybe this was about empowerment. About needing to stand on her own.

  “Fine. I’ll sell it to you for a dollar.”

  He could see she wanted to argue and be insulted, but she let her common sense win out.

  “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. But thank you. I appreciate it.” She looked satisfied, her independence intact.

  “You’re welcome.” Kaz understood her need for independence. After her life had spun wildly out of control, she’d needed to be the one steering her own ship. She’d probably hate it when she found out he planned on purchasing her a tablet and a SIM card for internet access. Then again, with her tech knowledge—or lack of it—it might take her a while to realize what he’d done.

  During the week Kaz had discovered Mira had a two-hour limit on technical talk and then she was done. So the late afternoons were used for workouts and one-on-one defense lessons.

  He knew the message from her ex had shaken Mira up, but it also seemed like her sister’s arrival had lit some fire under her, and after Vivian had left Mira worked twice as hard toward learning all she could. Maybe it was so her sister wouldn’t worry, but either way he was a bit worried at her rising stress level.

  Together they set up the laptop for her by loading the browsers she preferred and adding the privacy extensions. He rerouted her through Tor, one of the proxy servers that would help obscure her IP address. Each day he addressed another topic: avoiding sites that collected IP addresses, encrypting messages beyond Gmail, extra precaution when using Wi-Fi, VPN networks to avoid wireless snoopers from seeing what you were doing online. And much more, especially if she tried the deception route because disappearing online was next to impossible.

  When her two-hour technology window closed, Kaz got them out of the house to do something fun—anything to take Mira’s mind off the reason she was going through all this. They went bowling, hit up the Greensboro Science Center and the Historical Museum, browsed a coffee and comics store, played a few more times at the arcade, and even helped chaperone Quinn’s young lacrosse players on a trip to play laser tag.

  It was a productive week and they managed to break it up with some fun, but there was also an undercurrent of tension. And not just the tension from Mira’s situation. No. The sexual tension between them hadn’t disappeared simply because they’d agreed to ignore it. It was like they’d attempted to cover hot coals with paper, pretending it wasn’t there. Except the paper was smoldering and smoking and damn near ready to go up in flames. Yet they pressed on.

  “So you’re saying I need to be careful on Facebook and Twitter.” Mira ran a hand through her hair, tugging it hard enough to make Kaz wince.

  “I’m saying you should quit them altogether—but I see that look—if you can’t do that, then you should set up an anonymous account from a remote location and friend a bot or two—”

  “Argh! Bots, cookies, VPNs, and IP addresses. I’ll never get it. I give up.” She threw herself backward onto the couch to lay staring up at the ceiling. “There’s too much to think about and too many things to consider.”

  Kaz flipped over his right wrist. Sure enough, he’d kept her going at this too long. She was past her two-hour window. He walked over next to her and grabbed her hands, pulling her up off the couch. “Let’s go. Let’s head to Dave and Lu’s for a piece of pie. We can ride bikes into town and swing by for a round of chess in the park first. What do you say?”

  “You had me at pie.”

  * * *

  Two hours, one bike ride, and three games of chess later Mira reached across the table in the diner and touched Kaz’s hand. He stopped himself from turning his palm up to hold her hand in his. The urge was too strong. All the more reason not to because they’d be saying good-bye to each other before too long. Between the self-defense sessions and the instructions on how to stay safe and hidden online, Mira was about ready to head out of his life.

  “Thanks. I needed the break. I’m sorry for being so bratty during your tech lessons, but I get frustrated by how much I still don’t know and understand.”

  “My fault for not watching the time better. And you were only a little bratty.” He needed to pull himself together. Whatever it was between them—lust, longing, need—it was up to him to put a stop to it. “Your computer knowledge is tenfold what it was when we started.”

  “Hello, Kaz.”

  He looked up to find Lisa standing next to their table. “Hi, Lisa.”

  She smiled and reached her hand out to Mira. “You may not remember, but we’ve met. I work at the free clinic around the corner. I was there when they brought you in after your run-in with Pisser.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Mira returned the smile.

  “Would you like to join us?” Kaz decided part of the problem was that he and Mira had simply been cooped up alone together for too long. If one were to believe the science of attraction theory, once he focused his mind on another woman, his dick should follow. “We were about to order some pie.”

  Mira raised one eyebrow at him before scooting around the U-shaped seat of the corner booth, making room for Lisa to sit.

  “Oh, I’d love to.” Lisa sat with a smile. “I do love Lu’s pecan pie.”

  “Pecan sounds good to me.” Mira frowned, glancing between Lisa and Kaz.

  Renee stopped by for their orders. Two pieces of pecan and a bourbon peach for him.

  “Lisa, did you know Kaz was a health-food nut? He’s a near fanatic about it.” Mira turned to him. “Let me guess . . . you ordered the peach pie because of the vitamin C?”

  “Peaches also have fiber and vitamin A.” Lisa shrugged when they both looked at her. “I’m sort of a health nut too.”

  “You don’t say?” Ty’s advice ran through his head. Go out on a date with another woman as fast as you can. Lisa was nice, smart, and single. Plus, they’d been friends since middle school. Why not Lisa? Maybe they had as much in common as he and Mira did. Maybe more.

  “I am. I’m really into experimenting with fermented foods right now.” Lisa shrugged and smiled. “I make a mean kimchi. You should try it.”

  Just because they’d never had instant chemistry like he’d experienced with Mira didn’t mean
it couldn’t develop. Slow-burn attractions could spark into bigger flames at any time.

  “Is that an invitation?” Kaz avoided Mira’s gaze, looking instead into Lisa’s blue eyes. “I enjoy a spicy kimchi.”

  Mira released a soft snort and muttered, “I could go for a fermented drink right now.”

  Her tone snagged his attention. What was up with her? She’d been darn enthusiastic about him dating before, pushing him toward almost every single woman with a pulse. Lisa had a pulse. Yet Mira’s green eyes narrowed in her pinched face.

  What happened next sent their plans veering off into another direction. One minute Mira was talking and the next she was hiding under the table. Maybe she wasn’t as ready as he thought? She grabbed his thigh from under the table, getting his attention quickly and a bit more. Focus, Kaz. She hissed up to him that one of Ivan’s guys just walked in. Guys?

  Kaz turned casually, getting a look at the man in question, and his something-is-definitely-not-right meter pinged. The man asked Renee if she’d seen a woman who met Mira’s description, and Kaz gave an abrupt shake of his head when Renee’s gaze cut to him.

  Renee told him she hadn’t seen anyone fitting that description around here. The man gave one squinty-eyed glance around the diner before leaving as quickly as he’d entered.

  Closing his eyes, running the man’s face through his mind again, Kaz knew there was something familiar about him. Not that he’d seen the man before, but he had a look to him. The cut of his suit was European, his facial bone structure, the tinge of an accent as he talked with Renee; he was Czech? Armenian? Nothing clicked, but he’d put some time in on his computer digging around until it did.

  He leaned down to look under the table at Mira.

  She was sitting on the floor, her forehead resting on her knees pulled up tight to her chest with her arms wrapped around herself like a straitjacket. Lifting her head, her green eyes stared up at him, stark and troubled in her pale face.