Page 29 of In Safe Hands
“It’ll be fine, Dais.” He gave her shoulders a pat and then dropped his hands. Daisy tried not to miss the contact. “They’re coming to train. They won’t be expecting any of this”—he gestured at the array of ingredients she had strewn across the counters—“so they’ll appreciate whatever you offer them. Okay?”
Daisy took a deep breath and then let it out. “Okay.” She turned back to her biscuit-making. “Why are you here so early anyway? You just about gave me a heart attack, thinking everyone was arriving already when the kitchen looked like this.” She gestured at the chaos with her spoon.
He grinned. “Figured you might be freaking out, so I thought I’d get here early and see if you needed help with anything.”
“Thanks.” She put the cookie sheet in the fridge, along with the remaining dough. “I think I’m good, though. I just need to clean up and calm down.”
Chris moved to help. “I saw Lou yesterday when I stopped at the Coffee Spot. She’s beyond excited about this.”
Daisy laughed as she loaded the dishwasher. Just chatting with Chris was relaxing her. She could almost feel her blood pressure dropping as they worked side by side in easy harmony, as if the argument and subsequent awkwardness of the day before hadn’t happened. “I know. She left me a message yesterday.”
“Makes me a little nervous,” he said, and she looked at him skeptically. Daisy doubted he’d ever been nervous in his life. “They’re expecting a lot from this training. Hope I can live up to that.”
“Please,” she scoffed, smacking him on the rear with the rubber spatula she’d just rinsed. “Don’t even pretend to be humble. You just want some ego stroking.”
Mouth open, he stared at her. “Did you just spank me with that thing?”
She shrugged. “It was handy.”
“You know what else is handy?” He grabbed a wooden spoon off the counter and swung it toward her posterior. Twisting around, she parried with the spatula. They dodged and danced around the kitchen in a kitchen-utensil swordfight. Taking advantage of his superior weapon and Daisy’s ill-timed attack of the giggles, Chris drove her back toward the sink. As she tried to hold him off with the spatula in her right hand, she turned the water on with her left and grabbed the spray nozzle.
“Ahh!” Chris yelled, holding up his free hand to ward off the jets of water. “Twenty penalty points for using unauthorized weapons!”
“All kitchen contents and appliances are weapon-use approved. That’s the official Swordfight Code Section 136.8.” Daisy released the sprayer anyway, since she was laughing too hard to stand up straight.
“Who brings a water sprayer to a spoon fight, anyway?” he teased, pulling at his wet T-shirt. It clung to his sculpted chest in a way that made Daisy glad she’d decided to turn their battle into a water fight.
She pretended to ponder the question. “Um…the winner?”
With a snort, Chris swung the spoon he still held toward her rear, but she dodged easily and pretended to reach for the sprayer again.
“Truce?” Chris wiped a droplet of water from his cheek.
“Truce.” Even as she pretended nonchalance, Daisy decided that soaking wet was a good look for Chris…a very good look. As they finished tidying the kitchen, she kept a wary eye out for possible retaliation, but he behaved himself.
As Daisy started the dishwasher, Chris said in a too-casual voice, “Lou also mentioned wanting to talk more about the Willard Gray case with you.”
“Okay?” She didn’t understand why that merited his odd delivery.
“If you don’t want to discuss it with her, she’ll understand.”
Now Daisy was really confused. “Why wouldn’t I want to talk to her about that? It’s fun—okay, that sounded weird, since we’re talking about some poor murdered guy, but it’s interesting. A real-life mystery.”
“She could use someone new to bounce ideas off of. I can’t talk to her about it, and I think she and Callum are both at the point where they’re running around in circles.”
She frowned at Chris. “Why are you trying to talk me into this when I already said I’d do it? The cows are in the corral already, cowboy. You can stop the round-up.”
He gave an amused snort. “Did you just refer to yourself as a cow?”
Waving that off, she said, “I want to talk to Lou about the Gray case. Why are you being weird?”
“I just didn’t want it to, I don’t know, stress you out or anything.”
“Chris Jennings.” Her hands planted on her hips. “Quit treating me like I’m fragile. Don’t make me get the spatula.”
“Just try it.” He smirked. “I’m prepared for your assault now.”
A knock at the door made her fly toward the stairs. “Can you let them in?” she asked over her shoulder. “I have to change.”
