Page 84 of In Safe Hands
“Good.” He settled onto his back next to her.
After a few minutes of silence, she asked, “Why now?”
“Why now what?”
“You’ve had eight years to make your move.” She stared up at the ceiling. “Why didn’t you do anything before this? I mean, you didn’t even want me to touch you up until a few weeks ago.”
Rustling noises told her he was shifting, but her focus stayed on the ceiling until his face blocked her view, forcing her to meet his gaze. “First of all, if I’d made any kind of move during those first two years, it would’ve been creepy. And illegal. You were sixteen. The next three or four years after that, it would’ve still felt wrong. The last few years, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. That’s why I didn’t want you hugging me. I was so wound up that any contact would’ve destroyed my willpower. It was pretty shaky as it was.”
“So? Why not act on those thoughts once I was old enough?”
With a groan, he rolled over to his back again. “I figured you wouldn’t be interested.”
“Not interested?” She turned onto her side so she could see his face. “Are you kidding? I was practically screaming my interest. I tried to kiss you.”
The vein in his temple started throbbing. “I figured you were just lonely, and I was handy. I mean…” His jaw flexed, making his next words come out tightly. “Why would you be interested in the guy who got your mom killed?”
All of Daisy’s breath left her in a whoosh, leaving her unable to speak for a full minute. She finally managed to force out the words. “What? I never blamed you.”
“Yeah.” He glanced at her quickly and then returned his gaze to the ceiling. “When we talked about it that night, I finally got that. After all these years, it was just hard to change my thinking, you know?”
“I know.” Tucking her body close to his side, she laid her cheek on his shoulder and stretched her arm across his chest. It felt strange to be lying there like that with Chris, but it also felt right. Even though she didn’t expect it to last—how could it when she couldn’t leave her house?—she was going to enjoy every second of this closeness with Chris. “Just so we’re clear, my mom’s death wasn’t your fault.”
He burrowed his arm underneath her so he could wrap it around her. “I shouldn’t have hesitated.”
“Not your fault.”
The silence continued for so long that Daisy began to doze.
“Okay, Dais,” he said quietly, the air from his words warm against her head. “Okay.”
A sleepy smile touched her face as she closed her eyes again. He’d sounded as if he was starting to believe it.
* * *
“Sorry I texted my list to you so late,” Daisy said, opening the interior door to let Tyler inside. Each time she got a glimpse of the outside, it got easier. Her next plan was to have someone hold the door open while she took a step toward it, but that would wait. She wanted to savor the day, to enjoy the knowledge that she and Chris were actually dating, without dealing with a potential anxiety attack.
“That’s okay.” Holding two grocery bags in each hand, he flicked his head to the side, tossing his bangs out of his eyes. His gaze was focused on her shoulder. “You probably were up pretty late. I heard about the fire.”
Daisy reached for the bags, but he turned, holding them out of reach.
“I’m supposed to put everything away,” he said, still not meeting her eyes. “It’s part of my job.”
She studied him for a few seconds. “Okay.” Although she really didn’t want someone else putting away her groceries, since it was a good way to lose the peanut butter in a cupboard she never opened, Tyler appeared determined. Something was off about him. He seemed unhappy, and she didn’t want to make his day worse. Maybe she could turn her search for her missing groceries into a treasure hunt. It could be fun.
Leading Tyler into the kitchen, she asked over her shoulder, “Did you want a coffee?” From the distaste he’d tried to hide the last time he’d had it, she expected him to decline, but he nodded, instead.
As she started his mocha-flavored coffee, he began putting her groceries away in sullen silence.
“You okay?” she asked.
One of his shoulders lifted in a shrug.
“Trouble at school?” She didn’t know if she should pry, but the quiet was uncomfortable, especially since he’d been chatty last time. Besides, she felt bad for the kid, apparently friendless and with the sheriff for a father.
“No. It’s almost done for the year, anyway.” His mournful tone didn’t match his words. Weren’t kids supposed to be excited about summer?
“Everything okay with your dad?”
