In Safe Hands (Search and Rescue #4)(21)



Chris picked that moment to pull up the bottom hem of his shirt to wipe his face, revealing his abs. His T-shirt still lifted, he eyed her over the fabric. “He’s…what? Tenacious? Humor-free? A workaholic? A hottie?”

“Well, I was going to say intense, but now I’m more interested in discussing the fact that you’re attracted to your boss.”

He snorted, finally letting his shirt drop back into place, which allowed Daisy’s brain to start functioning again. “I was just quoting one of the girls on a class tour a couple of weeks ago. Not the workaholic and humorless part, though. That was all me.”

“Huh.” During the sheriff’s visit, she’d been too stressed, embarrassed, and a host of other negative emotions to rank him on the hot-or-not scale. She tried to bring up his features in her mind, but it was no use. She just couldn’t get past how small and raw he’d made her feel. “I’ll have to take your word for it. Do you like working for him?”

Chris’s teasing expression faded as he considered the question. “Most of the time, yeah. I do. He can be rigid and rule-bound, but that’s pretty common in cops. I like that he’s consistent, easy to predict. Even if I know I’ve screwed up and am going to get my ass chewed, it’s better than not knowing how he’ll react. Make sense?”

After considering it for a moment, she said, “I can see that. I’m probably overreacting. He just kept looking at me like I was a bug he really wanted to squash.”

Laughing, Chris said, “We call it ‘going to confession.’ After a few minutes of Rob giving someone the eyeball, the suspect spills his guts about every bad thing he’s ever done, even admitting to shoplifting a pack of gum when he was nine.”

“I’d confess,” Daisy admitted with a shiver. Talking about the sheriff was souring her stomach, so she changed the subject as she hung her jump rope on its peg. “I think we’re warmed up, Yoda. What’s today’s lesson?”

His grin had a predatory cast that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was. “Aggression drills.”

“Sounds…um, interesting?”

“It’s important. You’re smaller than most would-be attackers.”

“I’m not that small.” She scowled, although she couldn’t force much heat into it. She was too grateful to him for the way he treated her. During training, Chris always acted like she could walk out the door anytime she wished. He never mentioned the improbability of her having to face off with anyone besides him and maybe Lou. “Oh! I almost forgot. Lou was wondering if she could join us for training sometime. And someone named Ellie, too, although she needs to recover from a bullet to the chest first?”

Her expression must have been horrified, since Chris gave an amused snort. At least, Daisy hoped he was laughing at her reaction and not at the poor woman who had been shot. “Sure. You’ll get a chance to spar with someone besides me that way. And the bullet was deflected, so Ellie Price has a fractured sternum and a monster of a bruise, but she doesn’t have the bloody hole in her chest that you’re picturing.”

“Good.” She had indeed been imagining a gory wound. “And Callum doesn’t want you sparring with Lou, so he’ll be here, too.”

Looking perilously close to rolling his eyes, Chris said dryly, “Of course he will. There’s no way George is going to let Ellie out of his sight, either, so prepare for a full house. I wouldn’t be surprised if Rory joined the fun, too.”

“Yeah, Lou mentioned a Rory.” The name was familiar, but it took a minute for her to remember the story Chris had told her. “Isn’t she the one who moved in with Ian Walsh across the street?”

“Yep. Ian’ll probably tag along, too.”

Daisy was quiet as she mentally inventoried food and beverages. With a group of six people coming, plus Chris, she’d definitely need to restock. As much as she didn’t want to ask Chris for help, there was no other alternative unless her dad returned soon.

“Dais?” Chris’s tentative tone brought her out of her contemplation. “You okay with everyone coming here?”

“Sure.” She smiled at him, deciding to wait until the event was actually scheduled before worrying about training-day refreshments. “How about those anger drills?”

“Aggression drills,” he corrected, letting it go. “We’re taught to avoid acting aggressively, especially women, so we need to work on changing your initial reactions. Like this.” He grabbed her forearm. “What’s your instinctive response?”

Surprised at the contact, Daisy looked at his hand and then his face, not moving.

A grin started to curl up the corner of his mouth, but he quashed it, returning his expression to stern-instructor mode. “If I were a stranger, what would be your first reaction?”

“Maybe scream, depending on the situation.”

“Screaming’s good. What else?”

His fingers tightened, and she automatically tried to yank her arm out of his grip.

“Right!” he said, resisting her attempt at freeing herself. “Your initial instinct is to pull back. How’s that working for you?”

Daisy increased her efforts, leaning back to use her body weight as well as her arm muscles to try to escape. “Not well,” she gritted, her voice already a little breathless.

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