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I’d never used a damn coaster in my life. It showed. “The table’s already messed up.”
She frowned. “Yeah, but this just keeps it from getting any worse.” She wrestled with the packaging, unable to get it out of the box, so I gestured for her to hand it over. She tossed the bag over and then went back to digging in the bag.
“I also thought that maybe a few pictures would make the place more…cozy.” She pulled out several frames of different sizes and began to place them on the few surfaces we had in the living room.
“Jesus, Piper. Is this a damn hedgehog?” I held the coasters up to her grinning face.
“Yep! Isn’t it cute? I couldn’t resist. And really, when we aren’t using the coasters, it’s art.”
The coasters served as the hedgehog’s spines and its body held them all together. “If you think this ugly thing is art, you are definitely not allowed to buy any paintings for the walls,” I grumbled, setting the coaster holder on the coffee table and exchanging it for my beer. I took a long pull and then placed the bottle back down.
When she made a noise in the back of her throat and angled her head toward the hedgehog, I pulled one of its spines out and plunked my bottle on it.
“There. Happy?”
With a broad smile and a quick nod she put the last picture frame on the coffee table. Satisfied with her arrangement, she came and sat back on the couch, wrapping up in the blanket. “I didn’t have a chance to go through any pictures yet for the frames, so if you have any you want to put in them, go for it.”
I tilted my chin. “Yeah, I’ve got stacks of pictures in my office I’ve just been meaning to find the right frames for. Thank God, you’ve done that for me.”
She nudged me with her foot. “Don’t be a smart-ass. I was just trying to be nice.”
“Uh-huh. By allowing me to decorate my own house?”
She pursed her lips and I couldn’t stop myself from staring. It was something she’d always done, even as a little kid. She would get annoyed and her mouth would be somewhere between a pout and a smirk. “You’re cute when you do that.”
Her eyes widened a fraction of a second before they narrowed. “Quit antagonizing me, Lawson. Are you going to tell me what you do in your office sixteen hours a day or no?”
Not exactly. “Sixteen hours is a bit of a stretch. But yes, if you really want to know, I’ll tell you what I can.”
She nodded and pulled the blanket up to cover her arms.
I grabbed my beer and began peeling the label. “I’m the head of IT security. I do all the basic stuff, setting up desktops, laptops, configuring software and applications. But I’m also in charge of the security. And since we’re big on security, it’s fucking important that I keep everything as fireproof as possible. So, I spend a lot of time researching hacks, exploits, pen testing, reviewing advisories and scanning the systems for attack vectors.” I smiled as I took in the blank look on her face and continued. “I have guys who work under me too, so I don’t have to do most of the basic stuff. And I don’t usually spend a lot of time watching surveillance, although in the beginning I did.” I pulled the label completely from my bottle and balled it up, tossing it at her. “You still with me?”
She swatted the paper away, her reflexes impressive. “I don’t have a single clue what you just said to me.”
I chuckled. “Basically, I spend half my time making sure our info is secure and the other half of the time making sure everyone else?
?s isn’t.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re a hacker?”
I lifted a shoulder. “You could say that. I’d prefer not to, though.” I winked, and she smiled.
And it felt good to make her smile.
“Wanna watch a movie?” she asked, snagging the remote and aiming it at the TV. She pushed the bag she’d just pulled all of her house décor out of and a shoebox fell to the floor. A pair of nude heels fell out and she groaned as she bent to pick them up.
“New shoes too?” I asked.
She grinned. “Yeah, I needed a new pair of ‘sex-kitten heels’. I wore my last pair out.”
I choked on the swallow of beer I’d just taken.
She laughed, the musical sound full of teasing humor and waved one of the shoes in my direction. “What’s wrong, Lawson?”
Still sputtering, I shook my head and pulled the remote from her hand. Our fingers brushed and I struggled to push the image of her in nothing but those heels from my mind. “How about that new ER show?”
She shook her head. “No way.” Stuffing the shoes back in the bag, she tossed it over the arm of the couch. “I get enough emergency room in real life. Besides, those dramas are always so fake.” She snatched the remote back from my hand and aimed it at the television, pulling up the guide. She scrolled too fast for me to even be able to read half the shows that were playing but squealed when she stopped on a movie. “Look, it’s a movie about you!” she teased.
