Page 55 of In Safe Hands
“I’m staying.” The stubborn set of his jaw made Daisy roll her eyes.
“You can if you want to,” she said, “but you look ready to fall asleep standing up. Why don’t you go home and rest? I promise to take really good notes.”
“My time off starts tonight. It’s better if I stay up as long as possible to transition over to days.” Despite his words, he remained standing, showing that he was at least thinking about his bed.
“Just sleep for a couple of hours, then, to keep you from being a complete zombie. You can’t violate confidentiality, anyway, so you’d only be listening. And snoring.” Encouraged by the upward quirk of his mouth, she continued. “If you have a digital recorder handy, we could use that. It’d be even more accurate than my notes, and you could listen to it after you get some sleep.”
It only took him a few seconds to consider it before he nodded. “Good idea. I’ll run out and see if I have a recorder in my squad.”
“Actually, now that I think about it, there’s no need.” Daisy nodded at her phone sitting in front of her on the table. “I can record our conversation using this.”
“Good idea. Thanks. I’ll take off then.” He leaned toward her, and she automatically turned her face toward his. His lips were just inches from hers when she realized what was happening and froze, staring at him. For a moment, it had felt like they were an old married couple, and he was about to kiss her good-bye. Her throat tightened with almost painful longing. How much she would love to have that easy, comfortable, content life with him. She wanted that good-bye kiss and all it represented so badly that her chest ached with it. It was just a daydream, though. She would never have that, not if Chris’s startled expression was anything to go by.
His eyes widened as he took a step back, bumping into a wall with an un-Chris-like lack of coordination. “Right. See you later.” Turning, he hurried out of the room.
His exit caught the others’ attention. “Is Chris leaving?” Lou asked—or Daisy thought she asked. It was hard to understand her exact words, since Lou’s mouth was full of doughnut.
“Yeah.” Daisy stood and followed the fleeing deputy to the door. “He’s following Ian’s example and getting some sleep.”
“Night shifts are tough,” Lou said, and Rory made a sound of agreement. “It’s hard enough dragging myself out of a warm bed to go on a dive team call.”
When Daisy caught up with Chris at the door, he was focused on unfastening the locks, not even glancing at her when she stopped next to him. Apparently, squirrelly-acting Chris had returned. Daisy hadn’t missed him.
“After you get a nap in, want to come over for a matinee?” she asked, deciding that at least one of them should try to act normal. “Dad picked up the mail, and Brutal Fists finally arrived.” His hand paused on the first chain lock. “C’mon. You know you want to make fun of their technique in the cage-fighting scenes.”
His exhale was audible, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. “Sounds good. I have a couple of errands to run first, so I’ll be here around five or so.”
“Perfect.” She knew her grin was too wide, but she couldn’t do anything about it. “I’ll make some cornmeal-crust pizza and a salad, and we can finish off the brownies.”
Smiling slightly, he finally made eye contact. “You’d better hide them from the sugar vultures in there, or there won’t be any left for tonight.”
With a snort, she waved off his warning. “Did you see how many doughnuts Ellie and George brought? Everyone’s going to inhale about ten each before slipping into diabetic comas. No one will even want to hear the word ‘brownies.’”
“Brownies?” Lou’s excited voice chirped from the dining room, and Chris gave Daisy an I-told-you-so smirk.
Closing her eyes, Daisy shook her head. “I’ll hide the brownies.”
He chuckled and slipped out the door. After securing it behind him, Daisy hurried into the kitchen to start another cup of coffee and to slip the covered pan of brownies into a cupboard behind a salad spinner and her Crock-Pot.
“Daisy!” Lou shouted. “Get your toned little butt in here. And don’t forget those brownies.”
“Give me a minute, and I’ll bring some more coffee,” she yelled back. “But there aren’t any brownies.”
There were a few seconds of silence before a scowling Lou strode into the kitchen. “Daisy Little. Are you hiding brownies?”
“What brownies?” She widened her eyes in her best innocent expression.
“Fine. Be that way, B. H.” Lou’s sigh was heavy. “We’ll just have to make do with the gazillion doughnuts in there. Now hurry up. Ian gave Rory the arson scoop.”
“B. H.?”
“Brownie hoarder.”
As silly and most likely temporary as it was, it still made Daisy smile that she’d been given a nickname. “Just a few more seconds…”
The brewer gave its final gurgle, and Daisy grabbed the mug. With all the company she’d been having lately, she was going to have to get a coffeemaker that produced more than a single cup at a time.
“Ready! Let’s talk about fires.”
