Page 52 of In Safe Hands
They were both quiet for several sips until Chris spoke again.
“So…you made brownies?”
* * *
After she and Chris ate two-thirds of the pan of brownies for breakfast, she grabbed her laptop and settled on the kitchen floor to keep him company while he checked out the recalcitrant burner.
“Looking at porn?” he asked, lifting the grates off the top of the stove.
“Not unless there’s such a thing as antique doll porn.” Before he could respond, she hurried to add, “And if there is, I don’t want to know. There are some things you can’t unlearn.”
He raised the top of the stove and propped it on the bracing rod. “If you can think of it, there’s porn related to it. People have dirty, dirty minds.”
“Chris. What did I just say about wanting to remain blissfully ignorant?”
With a snort, he asked, “So you’re actually going to try to sell those things?”
“Figured it was the quickest way to get them out of the house, unless I can convince you to take them to give away to kids.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Firefighters do it.”
Turning away from whatever he was messing with, he gave her a look. “Fire gives kids cute little stuffed animals, not one of those…things.” He gestured toward the box. “People already love firefighters more than cops. I don’t need to make it worse.”
“Some people,” Daisy corrected, and he gave her a grin before turning back to the stove. Even using a lighter, he didn’t seem to be having any luck getting the burner to work. Since watching him wave an open flame around a gas appliance—even if that appliance involved fire on a regular basis—made her nerves twitch, Daisy turned her attention back to her laptop.
She frowned at a photo, trying to recall if the doll in the picture matched either of the ones her dad had given her. The few times she’d opened the box, she hadn’t wanted to look too closely, so she couldn’t recall any distinguishing features. With a groan, she put her laptop aside and climbed to her feet. Her sound of dread shifted to a grunt of effort as her muscles protested.
“What’s wrong?”
She grabbed the box and returned to her spot on the floor. “I have to actually look at the freaky things.”
He laughed and lowered the top of the stove. “I have more bad news, too.”
She made a face. “Hit me.”
“The problem doesn’t seem to be the igniter, so it’s most likely the gas line. Since that’s beyond my handyman skills, we’ll need to call in a professional.”
While she was still processing that information, Chris’s cell phone rang. After glancing at the screen, he answered. “Hey, Rob. What’s up?”
Whatever the sheriff’s answer was, it made Chris glance at his watch, flinch, and then hurry to replace the grills on top of the stove. “Sorry about that, sir. I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“Leave those,” Daisy whispered. “I’ll get them if you need to go.”
With a shake of his head, he replaced the rest of the grills before moving to the door. “I’ll be home in four minutes. I’m leaving Daisy’s now.”
Climbing to her feet again with more determination than grace, she followed him to the entrance so she could secure the door after he left.
“No new trouble,” Chris said. “Well, except with her stove.”
From the half of the conversation Daisy could hear, it sounded as if Chris was late meeting the sheriff, so she was surprised that he didn’t leave, but stood by the door instead.
“Don’t worry about that,” he told the sheriff with a laugh. “I know my limitations, especially when it comes to things that could explode. I’ll give the repair guy from Connor Springs a call and have him come out and take a look.”
After another short pause, Chris started opening the interior door locks. “See you in a few. Sorry again.” He ended the call. “I forgot to bring in my old portable radio—the one that doesn’t hold a charge—last night. Rob said he’d swing by my house on his way in to work this morning to grab it. I lost track of time, so he’s standing on my porch, wondering where I am.”
“Sorry for delaying you,” Daisy said. “And thanks for looking at the stove.”
