Code Conspiracy. Carol Ericson

because he knew how important safety was for her, and he didn’t want Jerrica freaking out right now.

      “We’re on the third floor.” She pushed her black hair out of her eyes. “Oh, that’s right, you’re a hotshot Delta Force soldier able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.”

      “There was a fire escape, a ledge…and…forget it. I’m here now.”

      “What are you doing here? You said you wanted to talk—about what?” She crossed her arms over her chest not looking like she wanted to talk at all.

      “Can we sit down and get comfortable? I wasn’t kidding about the bottle of wine, and it took a lot of effort to get it up here. I left it in the kitchen.” He pointed to the sofa with colorful pillows strewn across it. “You first.”

      “Where are my manners? I guess they went out the window, when you came in the window. It’s not every day someone breaks into my apartment.”

      “It’s not like I’m a stranger. I’ve even been to this inner sanctum before.”

      “Have a seat, and I’ll get us a glass of wine.” She finally uprooted her feet from the floor, and her heavy boots clomped across the hardwood to the kitchen. She grabbed the bottle of wine by its neck and raised it in the air. “How did you manage to break in here while carrying this bottle of wine?”

      He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “You have your secrets and I have mine.”

      “You don’t have any secrets Gray. Nobody does.” She jabbed a corkscrew into the cork, twisted and eased it from the bottle. The glasses clinked together as she pulled them out of the cupboard. “You use a computer? The internet? Social media? Buy online? Nothing is sacred. They know all about you.”

      “I know. You’ve told me before.” He kicked his feet up onto her coffee table. “And after that cheery reminder, I’m gonna need a glass of wine more than ever.”

      She marched back into the living room, cupping a glass of wine in each hand. The ruby-red liquid sloshed with her jerky steps. She held a wine glass out to him. “You always did prefer red, didn’t you?”

      His gaze locked onto her lips, the color of the wine in her glass. “Yeah, I always did like red better.”

      Her cheeks flushed, matching her lips. She backed away from him and plopped down in the chair across from the sofa, pulling a pillow into her lap with one hand. “Now, what’s so important that you need to scale a three-story building and break into my place, all while carrying a killer bottle of pinot noir?”

      “I need your help, Jerrica.” Damn, this was going to be harder than he’d expected. He’d better ease into it. “The kind of help only you can give me.”

      She swirled her wine in the glass before taking a sip. Raising her eyes to the ceiling, she swished the liquid around in her mouth as if at a wine tasting. “That’s…interesting. What kind of help would that be?”

      Gray gulped back a mouthful of wine. She was just trying to make this harder on him. Could he blame her? With a little more liquid courage warming his belly, he said, “You know. That hacking thing you do.”

      Her eyebrows disappeared into her bangs. “What was that? Hacking? You told me that was illegal, immoral and un-American.”

      He snorted and the wine he’d just downed came up his nose. “I never said immoral.”

      “Whatever.” She flicked her short, unpolished nails in the air, and the tattoo of the bird between her thumb and forefinger took flight—she also had one on her wrist. “The words and the accusations were coming so hot and heavy I couldn’t keep track of them.”

      That hadn’t been the only thing hot and heavy between them. He did his best to keep his gaze pinned to her eyes. If they wandered below her chin, he could expect one of those boots planted against his leg.

      He spread his hands. “Give me a break, Jerrica. When we first started dating, I thought you were a generic computer programmer. Then you dropped the bombshell that you worked for one of the most notorious hackers out there, Dreadworm.”

      “I didn’t drop any bombshell. You went snooping through my stuff.” She rolled her eyes. “You really believed I was using you to get military secrets to post on Dreadworm?”

      “Can you blame me?” He jumped up from the sofa and his wine came dangerously close to spilling over the rim. “If you had discovered I’d been lying to you, you would have gone underground and cut off all communications. Your reaction to my suspicion was laughable coming from one of the most paranoid people I know.”

      She bent forward at the waist and undid the laces on her right boot, hiding her face and buying time. He knew her well.

      She pulled off the boot and got to work on the second one. She looked up, her bangs tangled in her long dark lashes. “You know now I never would’ve done that to you. You should’ve known it then.”

      He stopped his pacing to walk toward her, resting a hand on her shoulder, his fingers tangling in her silky hair. He rubbed a lock between his thumb and forefinger. “I knew it then, too, Jerrica. You just took me by surprise.”

      She shifted her head away from his touch and the diamond in the side of her nose glinted in the light. “Even if you weren’t Delta Force, even if you didn’t believe that I was using you, you’re not a big fan of hacking, are you?”

      “It seems…wrong.” He stepped away from her and went back to his seat. “These are private government systems you’re hacking. In some cases, these are classified systems. Communications not meant for the general public.”

      “All government systems should be for the general public.” She tossed back her hair and raised her chin.

      Gray took up the challenge. “Not if that exposure is going to result in outing people, putting their lives in danger, compromising their safety.”

      “Dreadworm never did that, and if you’d stuck around long enough to let me explain you would’ve known that.”

      “Maybe you’re right. I admit I jumped the gun.” He stretched his legs out in front of him. Now he had to get to the rest of his request. He tossed off the last of his wine.

      “Looks like you need another.” Jerrica pointed at his empty glass. “Maybe that’ll help you get to the point.”

      “That obvious huh?” He pushed to his feet and held his hand out for her glass. “You, too?”

      “I think I may need a few more to hear your request.” She scrambled out of the chair and shoved her glass into his hand. “I brought some pho home for my dinner. Do you wanna share it with me? When I dropped the bag, the container even landed upright.”

      “Yeah, breaking and entering always makes me hungry.” He took the wine glasses into the kitchen and filled them halfway. As he turned he almost plowed right into Jerrica. He lifted the glasses over her head. “Whoa.”

      The bag of food swung from her fingertips. “You’re too big for this kitchen.”

      He surveyed the small space. “A jockey would be too big for this kitchen. I thought you were going to move to a bigger place, a safer neighborhood. It’s not like you can’t afford it.”

      “I like this place. I feel secure here.”

      “I was able to break in.” He set her wine glass on the counter at her elbow.

      Nudging him with her hip she said, “You just told me my place was safer than most and it was your mad Delta Force skills that allowed you to break in here.”

      “I said safer than most, but you have the money to get into a much better neighborhood than this one with a doorman, twenty-four-hour security, the works. I don’t know why you don’t make the move.” She picked up her glass and he clinked his against hers.

      “You