Page 9 of In Safe Hands
Chapter 3
There was no fuzziness to soften her humiliation. As soon as Daisy opened her eyes and saw Chris’s concerned face framed by her entryway ceiling, she knew what had happened. His hand was at her throat, and his cell phone was pressed to his ear.
“She’s regaining consciousness. Pulse is seventy-two.” His voice was clipped as he relayed the information to whoever was on the other end of the call, but it softened when he spoke to her. “Hey, Dais. You back with me?”
“No,” she said. “I mean, yes. I’m fine. But you better not be calling for an ambulance, Chris Jennings, or I’m going to be super pissed.”
He frowned at her. “Yes, she’s conscious and alert now.”
“I am. Conscious, alert, and in no need of medical assistance.” She tried to sit, but he moved his hand from her throat to her upper chest to keep her lying flat. He was squatting next to her, still in his boots, coat, and hat. “Chris. I’m serious. Cancel the ambulance.”
“You hit your head.” Once he said it, a corresponding throb lit up the back of her skull. “I tried to catch you, but I wasn’t quick enough.”
She probed the lump on the back of her head, restraining a wince. “It’s just a minor bump.” Despite her best efforts at trying to stay calm, she could hear a hint of panic in her voice. “Please, Chris. I’ll have to explain why I fainted in the first place, and what if they want to take me to the hospital?” Tears threatened to compound her humiliation as she grabbed for him, catching a handful of the BDUs covering his calf.
His silence squashed her hope, and a tear escaped. Gritting her teeth, she turned her head, burying her face against his leg in an attempt to hide.
Chris swore. “Sorry, Libby. That wasn’t directed at you. Go ahead and have Med stand down.”
Stupidly, relief made Daisy cry harder. Chris’s hand moved from her chest to cup the back of her head. Freed, she rolled to her side, tucking her face even farther under his knee until her forehead bumped his boot.
“Appreciate it, Libby. Uh-huh.” His hand stroked Daisy’s hair as he spoke absently into his phone. “Okay. Thanks again.” He must have ended the call, because suddenly both of his hands were free. Rocking back to sit on the tiles, Chris hauled her into his lap.
The shift in position startled her, thankfully stopping the flow of tears. She held herself stiffly for a second and then relaxed into his chest, too worn out to fight him. The material of his coat was rough against her damp cheek, but his arms were locked tightly around her, which was nice.
“Dais,” he muttered, using his thumb to wipe the residual wetness from the exposed side of her face.
“Sorry.” Her sigh shuddered with leftover tears. “Thanks for canceling the ambulance.”
His fingers moved to feel the sore spot on the back of her head. The unexpected contact sent a throb of pain through her skull, and she couldn’t help flinching away from his touch.
“I probably shouldn’t have,” he grumbled, his fingers returning to the aching bump. “What if your skull’s fractured?”
“My skull’s not fractured. Ow!” She swatted at his probing hand. “If you don’t stop pushing on it, though, yours might be. Quit it! What are you trying to accomplish by poking at me, anyway?”
“I don’t know.” Thankfully, he stopped. “Just making sure you don’t have brains leaking out or anything.”
“Gross.” She made a face and then tried to stand. As nice as it was to be in Chris’s arms, she didn’t want to be held because he pitied her. “I don’t. My brains are all where they should be, and they’re still greatly superior to whatever’s in your thick skull.”
At first, he resisted letting her go, but then he snorted, and his body relaxed. “Please. We both know that I’m the genius of this operation.” As he climbed to his feet, he helped her stand, as well. She was grateful for his grip on her arms when the room wobbled around her. It quickly straightened, and she stepped back, slipping free of Chris’s hold. After locking the interior door, she moved into the kitchen.
“Hah.” She suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired and would have paid a great deal of money to be able to sit down again. She didn’t trust Chris not to have Libby send the ambulance after all, though, so she feigned nonchalance and leaned against the counter, letting it support a good portion of her weight. “My brain would totally kick your brain’s ass in a death match.”
The worried crease between his eyebrows eased slightly. “Would not.”
“Would too.”
“Not.”
She stuck out her tongue. “Whatever, Einstein. Tell me what you found.”
“Found?”
Gesturing in the general direction of the street, she prompted, “At 304? Oh, and what’d you say to Corbin? Did you see him sprint for the house when he saw you? That boy did something naughty.”
Instead of answering, he eyed her searchingly. “We can talk about this later.”
