Love Hacked (Knitting in the City #3)(59)
Author: Penny Reid

“What did she do?”

I felt him shake his head. “It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter.” He pulled away just slightly, his large hands falling to my h*ps and his gaze searching mine. “You matter.”

This, of course, made me smile. “I know.” I said, my arms twining around his neck. “But feel free to say it with frequency. Also, other catch phrases of yours that I like—not in any particular order—are: you are exquisitely beautiful, you’re a fantasy, and you’ll be screaming my name.”

His mouth tugged to the side, revealing the dimple I loved. Much of the earlier tension eased beneath my fingertips. His gaze was loving and cherishing as it moved over my hair, nose, and lips. “You are exquisitely beautiful.”

I lifted on my tiptoes, my nails gently scratching the back of his neck, encouraging him to bring his mouth to mine. “So are you, Alex. And you matter to me.”

CHAPTER 26

Tuesday’s Horoscope: You may feel rushed to make an important decision. Follow your heart for the most advantageous outcome.

We parted Monday morning. I ogled him while he swam, then we shared a brief breakfast, and he was smiling—go me!—but I realized about twenty minutes later that I’d neglected to give him the man-knit set.

When I awoke Tuesday, I did so with a determined smile on my face.

I was going to talk to Quinn about the apartment. In fact, I was going to beg him for it. But first, I plucked my eyebrows so that they were shaped to precision. Afterward, I practiced my begging eyebrows in the mirror.

Tuesday was mostly spent trying not to get too excited about the fact that Wednesday—and therefore Alex date night—was the next day.

Knit night arrived, and it was my turn to host. I decided to do a continuation of my dirty-foods theme from Saturday. Fresh figs, sausages, raw oysters, whole stuffed zucchini, and chocolate covered bananas for dessert.

Ashley was the first to arrive, and hence, the first to pick up on the theme.

“You’re dirty. You’ve got a dirty mind.” She smiled approvingly and perused the plate of sausage, selected one, took a bite. “Yum.” She said between chewing, “Sex organ foods are phallic-licious.”

We giggled in the kitchen about it until my door buzzed and I was forced to abandon her.

I pressed my speaker button, disappointed that I didn’t have a Phallic Food Buffet occasion T-shirt. I would have to have one made.

“Who is it?”

“Janie,” came the crackly response.

“Okay! Come on up.” I buzzed her in and rushed out into the hall. I liked to heckle my guests as they climbed the stairs. “Guess what we’re having for dinner.”

Janie walked in the main door, but she was not alone. Trailing behind her were Fiona, Quinn, and Dan. I’m sure my face perfectly conveyed my astonishment because, upon seeing me, Quinn put a finger to his mouth and shook his head.

Quinn, Fiona, and Dan stayed at the bottom of the stairs. Janie, however, ascended.

“I can’t guess what you’re having for dinner, but I assume it’s something delicious and shocking.” She held me by the elbow and pulled me into my apartment.

“It is. It’s a phallic food buffet.”

I watched her as she grabbed my coat and draped it around my shoulders then handed me my hat and scarf—all while she spoke.

“Last time you made those impressive blueberry crepes. I’ve been trying to replicate them at home, but I’ve had very little luck. Perhaps you could come over some time and show me. In fact, it would be great if you could do a demonstration tonight. Please go to the store and buy the ingredients. I will wait here and let everyone in as they arrive.”

She nodded, her hazel eyes wide and bright as she pushed me out the door. “We could make them look like penises with really small blue testicles.”

I descended the stairs and her voice followed me. “Did you know that no one is one hundred percent certain what causes blue balls? Some people believe it has to do with….”

“Janie!” I stopped and spun toward her, my eyes wide. I did not need my neighbors hearing about different theories surrounding the epidemiology of blue balls.

“Uh, yes?”

“I’ll get the stuff, just…I’ll see you when I get back from the store.”

“Oh. Okay. Sounds good.”

I peered over the side of the staircase and made eye contact with Fiona. Her eyes were mostly serious. Although it was clear that she was trying to mask a grin. Upon arriving on the ground floor, Dan took me by the arm and ushered me out of the building into a waiting black limousine. I climbed in first, then Fiona, followed by Dan and Quinn.

The car pulled away from the building and my eyes bounced between my companions. They appeared to be on edge, with the exception of Dan. As usual, his brown stripper eyes regarded me with friendly interest.

I broke the silence. “So…what’s going on?”

Quinn shared a look with Fiona; she glanced at her lap for two beats before lifting her eyes to mine.

“Sandra, I used to work for the government, as a consultant in Africa for an engineering firm—you knew that, right?”

I nodded.

“Well, the truth is, it was a bit more complicated than that.”

“What do you mean complicated?”

She hesitated, though her eyes were steady. “I did a bit of intelligence work.”

“A bit of intelligence work.” I had to repeat the statement in order for my brain to process it.

Quinn grunted his impatience. “She means she was a spy.”

My eyes bulged and I choked on nothing but my own disbelief and astonishment.

An image of Fiona—from about a year ago—stabbing a goon in the shoulder with a Susan Bates knitting needle flashed before my eyes. This explained a lot. This explained everything.

Fiona gritted her teeth, but continued. “Never mind about that. We need to talk about Alex Greene.”

A flare of panic ignited in my chest, and I grabbed Fiona’s hand. “Is he okay? Is he hurt? What happened?”

“He’s fine. At least, the last time Quinn saw him he was fine—which was just a few hours ago at the restaurant where he works.”

I swallowed my sudden surge of emotion and exhaled loudly. “Okay. Sorry. You scared me.”

“Sandra, I’m sorry I have to ask this, but what are your feelings for Alex?”

Quinn huffed and shifted in his seat. The leather made small, creaking sounds as he moved.

Fiona issued him a quick, irritated glower. Then she focused her attention back to me, her expression gentle and concerned. “I’m not prying because I want to; I’m prying because I want to make sure you’re treated fairly, not pushed into anything you’ll regret.”

“I’m in love with him.”

If possible, this news appeared to relax and distress her at the same time. “Okay, listen, there are plans involving Alex and you that you really need to know about, but I don’t think he’s shared them with you.”

“Plans? Whose plans?”

Quinn sat forward and leveled me with a piercing glare. “Did you know that Alex was flown to Washington DC last week? Did you know he’s made a deal with the NSA to keep you safe?”

My mouth opened and closed, my eyelashes fluttered in confusion. “What? No! What deal? He never….” I brought my hands up, fingers stiff and palms out like I surrendered. “What are you guys talking about? Can someone start at the beginning please?”

Fiona sighed and put her hand on my knee. “All right. Here is the story. There are those who believe Alex….”

“Knows one of the creators of bitcoins, I know.” I completed her sentence.

“No. He is the creator. He created them,” Quinn said, his voice lower than usual.

Uh….

I gathered a deep breath and slumped against the seat of the limo as I tried to process this information and failed. This conversation, revelation, interaction—whatever you could call it—was sudden. This felt very sudden—very out-of-the-blue sudden—abrupt and jarring. I was having an internal system error.

No wonder, I realized inwardly.

No wonder he never wanted to talk about it. No wonder I was safer not knowing. No wonder he’d warned me over and over about himself, about getting involved. No wonder he felt such pride. No wonder…just everything.

“Okay, we need to make this fast. Here is the deal—no interruptions, got it?” Unexpectedly, Dan was the one who tugged me out of my system error, his thick Southie accent making him sound impatient when I knew he was just trying to be firm.

“Alex, your guy Alex, created these things. They’re worth lots of money, billions of dollars. He can access any of them whenever he likes—give them, take them, whatever. The NSA and others in the government want Alex on their side. They want to control him so they can control the money. You see?”

I nodded and pressed my lips together. My hands were starting to shake so I tucked them under me.

He continued. “They see you—his girl—as the fastest way to do that. They threaten you, he flies out there last week to make a deal. He agrees to work for them, sweep the coins from certain accounts into others, whatever they want him to do. Otherwise, they’re going to pull you in and make you testify against Alex on some fake charges—something about violating his parole. But it isn’t about that. It’s about ruining your reputation or getting your medical license revoked. Something like that.”