Heart-Shaped Hack

“Never a dull moment, right Katie?” He trailed his fingertips along her shoulder, took the newspaper out of her hands, and covered her body with his.

“There is nothing dull about you, Ian. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”



Later that day, she received a text from Lisa.

Lisa: Everyone was talking about the Jumbotron messages after you left last night. Did you see that article in the paper? Those names were an awfully strange coincidence. Your new boyfriend’s not a hacker is he? Come on, you can tell me. ;)

Kate: Hahaha. No. My boyfriend is definitely not a hacker.

Lisa: Is it weird that I think it would be kind of cool if he was? Those messages were awesome.

Kate: Yeah, I thought so too. : )





CHAPTER TWENTY

When Ian walked through the door of Kate’s apartment on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, she gasped. “What have you done?”

He laughed. “I knew you were going to say that.”

He’d cut his hair, and not just a trim either. It was short, above the ears, and not one single strand was out of place. He still looked breathtaking. In fact, Kate might have been able to argue that the haircut made him look breathtaking in a completely different way than before, but she’d loved the length of his hair, especially the way it felt under her fingers when she ran her hands through it.

“If I were meeting my daughter’s boyfriend for the first time, he would make a much better impression on me if he were a neatly trimmed business owner and not a scruffy hacker whose hair always looked like a woman had been running her hands through it in bed.” He set a gift-wrapped box on the table. “Nothing’s open tomorrow, so I had to do it today.”

“What am I supposed to grab on to now?”

“My ears?” He bent down to kiss her.

She put her arms around him. “I think it’s wonderful that you want to make a good impression. And you look superhot.”

“I do, don’t I?”

She grinned. “Humble as always.” She turned her attention to the box he’d set on the kitchen table. “Who’s the present for?”

“You, of course.”

“But we weren’t going to buy presents for each other. That was our deal.”

“Santa dropped it off. I had nothing to do with it.”

“When do I get to open it?” She picked it up and shook it.

“Not until we get home,” he said, taking it from her and crossing the room to place it under the tree.

Kate had been delighted to learn that Ian wanted to help serve meals with her. “Did you actually think I was going to spend Christmas Eve somewhere else?” he’d asked. “Besides, it will be nice to see the kids with their toys.”

Kate glanced at her watch.

“What time do we need to leave?”

“Not for another hour or so. I told Helena we’d be there by four to help set up.”

He smiled at her. “Maybe we can think of something to do until then.”

“Maybe we can.”



A steady stream of Kate’s clients came through the line while Kate and Ian were serving meals. There was Mike, a young man in his twenties whose girlfriend had broken up with him and kicked him out of her apartment. He’d been laid off three months before the breakup and had already gone through what little savings he had. He’d admitted to Kate how frantic he’d been when he’d scraped together enough to pay his bills and a deposit and first and last month’s rent on a new apartment only to realize there was nothing left to feed him.

There was a family of three who’d moved to Minneapolis from California for jobs that later fell through. When the mother had come into the food pantry—desperate, cold, hungry—the only thing she’d begged for had been formula for her nine-month-old daughter. Kate had soothed her, given her the formula, and filled a box with food. She’d been coming back ever since, often with her husband and baby in tow.

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