In Safe Hands (Search and Rescue #4)(59)

Her silence apparently made Tyler nervous, though, since he rushed to speak. “What do you… I mean, do you need anything right away? Groceries, that is.”

“No, thanks. I’m actually fully stocked right now.” Despite her irritation with Chris for his high-handedness, Daisy felt a trill of excitement at the thought of having weekly groceries. Although she told herself to be grateful she wasn’t going hungry, she always hated when she only had the canned and frozen options but was craving fresh food. Plus, with weekly deliveries, her chocolate stash would never be depleted. The thought killed any lingering annoyance with Chris. “How about next week? What’s a good day?”

“Friday? I almost always work on Fridays. I don’t have school, so I could get them to you earlier.”

“I’ll text you Friday, then.”

“Okay.” Shifting his weight, he looked at his mug and then toward the sink, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with his coffee.

“Here,” she said and held out a hand. “I’ll take that. You probably need to get back to work.”

With an affirmative shrug, he handed her the coffee. “See you next week.”

“Bye, Tyler.”

He was still hesitating, so she moved toward the door and unfastened the dead bolts and chains. “Wait to go through the outer door until I have this one relocked, okay?”

“Okay. Bye, Ms. Little.”

“You can call me Daisy,” she said, and he flushed and dropped his gaze.

“Thanks…Daisy.” His voice was just a mumble as he slipped through the doorway.

She quickly refastened the locks. Even though she’d asked him to wait, she wasn’t sure if she trusted him to remember. Once the last chain was in place, she thumped the door, and she heard the exterior door open.

“Good kid,” she said under her breath and then snorted a laugh. She needed to hang out with teenagers more often. Tyler’s awkwardness made her feel pretty proud of her social skills, despite having been locked away from almost everyone for eight years.

She turned away from the door. A pounding stopped her before she could go two steps. It was Chris’s knock, and she frowned as she pushed the speaker button and the unlock button at the same time.

“You’re early,” she said.

“You’re mad,” was his response.

Rolling her eyes, she waited until the exterior door locked behind him and then undid the locks for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

Pulling open the door, she stepped back so Chris could step inside. “I’m not mad.”

She might not be, but from the way a scowl rumpled his forehead, it looked like he was.

“It was the logical thing to do,” he said.

“I know.” She headed toward the study. Since she was pretty sure work was over for the day, she wanted to put a layer of cardboard between her and the one doll’s teeth.

“If you know,” Chris said, following her, “then why are you mad?”

“I’m not,” she said over her shoulder. “Honestly. I’m irritated that you didn’t talk to me about it first, but it’s a good idea.”

“Oh.” That seemed to have knocked all the indignation out of him. “Why’d you hang up on me then?”

“Because Tyler was listening to everything I said, and I didn’t want our business being discussed by a bunch of high schoolers.” She carefully returned the first doll to its box.

“Tyler? Rob’s kid?”

“Yes.” Picking up the second doll, she held it closer to Chris. “Look. This one has teeth. Doesn’t that make it just exponentially creepier?”

“Yes. Get that thing away from me.” Despite his words, he looked more relaxed than when he’d arrived. “So you’re not mad.”

“I’m not mad,” she agreed, “although I might start getting annoyed if you keep asking me that.”

“I’ll quit then.” His mouth relaxed into a little smile. “What was Tyler doing here?”

“He’s going to be my grocery-delivery boy.” Folding down the box flaps, she frowned. “If he doesn’t have his license, how’s he going to deliver my groceries?”

Chris shrugged. “Bike maybe, or on a sled after it snows. You don’t get much, so he could even carry them. It’s less than a mile to the grocery store. I didn’t know he was working at Melcher’s.”

“Tyler said it’s only been for a month.” She shut down her laptop. “I feel bad for the kid. He seems lonely. Even I have more contacts in my cell than he does.”

While he waited for her to finish, Chris leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “Why were you looking at his phone?”

“Putting my number in there,” she said, just to watch his eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. She wasn’t disappointed. “So I can text him my grocery list.”

He grunted. “Why does he need your number for that?”

“So he knows who’s texting him? Why are you being so weird about it?”

“I’m not being weird.”

“Right.” With a shrug, she dropped the subject and headed toward the living room. “You hungry? We could do the early-bird-special dinner, or we could watch a movie first and then break out the pizza.”