Page 23 of In Safe Hands
“Max! Save me from the evil drill sergeant,” she groaned, her legs wobbly with fatigue.
Chris glanced at his watch. “I need to get a few things done at home anyway, so we should probably wrap things up.”
“Thank you.” Even to her own ears, she sounded pathetically grateful. After aggression drills, they’d done a cross-fit workout that included burpees—something Daisy was positive had been invented by the devil in the deepest depths of hell.
He smirked, eyeing her desperate grip on Max. “You two look…cozy.”
Too exhausted to care that she was hanging off a fake, naked man, Daisy just shrugged—or she would have shrugged if her deltoids hadn’t stopped working twenty minutes ago.
“Don’t forget to stretch,” he warned as he walked to the door.
Daisy scowled at his back, annoyed at the way his legs continued to function, even though he’d worked out right alongside of her.
“Thanks, Chris!” she yelled as he headed into the hall. He disappeared, only to stick his head back in a moment later.
“Don’t you need to lock the door after me?”
“Right.” With a groan, she heaved herself upright. Once she was certain that her legs would support her on their own, she left Max with a grateful pat on the rear.
“You’re abnormally attached to that thing,” Chris said as she shuffled to the doorway.
“Max is awesome. As much as I punch him, he never holds a grudge.”
“I let you punch me,” Chris huffed. If she had any energy to spare, she would’ve laughed at his offended expression. “A lot more than Max has.”
Her chuckle came out as more of a wheeze. “Yes, you’re almost as awesome.”
“Almost?”
“Max gets extra points for letting me cuddle him afterward.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could unsay them. Although she didn’t want to look at Chris, she couldn’t help herself—her gaze darted to his face. Immediately, she regretted it. The teasing humor had disappeared, leaving an impassive mask that the sheriff would’ve envied.
The rest of their trip to the front door was silent.
“Thanks again, Chris,” she finally blurted as he opened the interior door.
His nod of acknowledgment was short. “Later, Dais.” Then he was gone.
Securing the locks on autopilot, she heard the clunk of the outer door closing. Her forehead made a similar sound as it hit the wood panel in front of her.
“You’re a bigger dummy than Max,” she muttered to herself. With a groan that was as much about disappointment as it was sore muscles, she pushed herself away from the door and shuffled toward the shower.
That night, she lay in bed, her eyes wide open. Despite the training session from hell, she couldn’t sleep. The light entering her bedroom window was strange. It wasn’t snowing outside, but a cloud had settled over the neighborhood like a blanket, turning everything a foggy white. The illuminated rectangle of her window called to her, but she resolutely ignored it. The memory of the sheriff’s judgmental gaze still stung, and she was determined to break the habit of spying on her neighbors.
It was hard. The book she’d been reading wouldn’t hold her interest, not with teenage domestic drama and furtive junk disposal happening within view. Daisy tried thinking about the upcoming training session, instead. Lou hadn’t wasted any time getting it arranged, and everyone would be coming over at two o’clock on Saturday, just two days away. She glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. When she saw that it was after one a.m., she mentally corrected herself. Saturday was only one day away.
The window beckoned. With a huff of irritation, she threw off the covers and got out of bed. “Just for a minute,” she muttered, then laughed. She sounded like an addict—a spying addict.
Pulling a fleece blanket from the foot of her bed, she brought it with her to the window seat. Curling up on the cushioned bench, she wrapped the blanket around her. All the Storvicks’ lights were out except for the glow of a computer screen coming from Corbin’s room. It was really boring watching the kid stare at whatever website he was perusing, and Daisy reluctantly allowed her gaze to move to the vacant house next door.
She was actually relieved that everything was dark and still, with no pseudokillers or late-night handymen roaming the property. A quick glance at Ian and Rory’s place showed that the shutters were firmly in place. Without anything to hold her interest within view, Daisy rested her forehead against the window and allowed her thoughts to wander.
Of course, the first person to pop into her head was Chris and his increasingly weird behavior toward her. It wasn’t like she was throwing herself at him. Daisy thought she hid her feelings pretty well—at least, as long as he kept his shirt in place. She was fully aware that she wasn’t girlfriend material, so, except for that one stupid attempted kiss, she tried to keep her hands and her wishes to herself. And yet, every once in a while, she’d catch him watching her with the hungriest expression. It made her wonder—
Something moved on the far side of the empty house. Jerked out of her thoughts, Daisy sucked in a breath and then groaned.
“Not again,” she muttered, staring at the spot, waiting to see if there was another sign of life. After a few long minutes, her eyes were starting to burn from not blinking.
Sitting back, she dismissed the movement as her imagination. She sighed. Her brain was taking lots of trips into fantasyland lately. Maybe it was time to find another therapist like the sheriff had implied.
