by Katie Ruggle
“It’s me.”
“Oh, thank God! I mean, come on in, Chris.” She unlocked the outer door.
Once he was in the kitchen, she realized he hadn’t been wearing a coat. “Is spring finally here?”
“For now.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, watching as she dropped spoonfuls of dough on a cookie sheet. “Are you making those cheese-and-sausage biscuits?”
“Yes. I forgot to ask if anyone’s a vegetarian, so I tried to cover all my bases. There’s artichoke dip with chips, hummus with pita squares, these biscuits—even if they are greasy heart attacks waiting to happen—and I wanted to have a vegetable tray, but I only have frozen veggies, and those would be limp and soggy and gross, so I’m thinking about mini-pizzas, but there’s only water and coffee to drink, and I—”
“Daisy.” He crossed the kitchen and put his hands on her shoulders, the unexpected contact cutting off her flow of words. “Breathe.”
“I know.” She knew it would make him squirrelly again, but she couldn’t help it. Her head dropped forward to rest against his chest. “I’m being an idiot, but this is my first…thing. I haven’t even been to a party, or a get-together, or any kind of social gathering in years. I don’t know what I’m doing!” The last came out as a wail.
“Dais.” He sounded amused. Scowling, she raised her head to check.
“Are you laughing at me?” she demanded.
“No. At least, I’m trying really hard not to.”
She smacked him on the upper arm. “I’m having a nervous breakdown, and you think it’s hilarious.”
“It’ll be fine, Dais.” He gave her shoulders a pat and then dropped his hands. Daisy tried not to miss the contact. “They’re coming to train. They won’t be expecting any of this”—he gestured at the array of ingredients she had strewn across the counters—“so they’ll appreciate whatever you offer them. Okay?”
Daisy took a deep breath and then let it out. “Okay.” She turned back to her biscuit-making. “Why are you here so early anyway? You just about gave me a heart attack, thinking everyone was arriving already when the kitchen looked like this.” She gestured at the chaos with her spoon.
He grinned. “Figured you might be freaking out, so I thought I’d get here early and see if you needed help with anything.”
“Thanks.” She put the cookie sheet in the fridge, along with the remaining dough. “I think I’m good, though. I just need to clean up and calm down.”
Chris moved to help. “I saw Lou yesterday when I stopped at the Coffee Spot. She’s beyond excited about this.”
Daisy laughed as she loaded the dishwasher. Just chatting with Chris was relaxing her. She could almost feel her blood pressure dropping as they worked side by side in easy harmony, as if the argument and subsequent awkwardness of the day before hadn’t happened. “I know. She left me a message yesterday.”
“Makes me a little nervous,” he said, and she looked at him skeptically. Daisy doubted he’d ever been nervous in his life. “They’re expecting a lot from this training. Hope I can live up to that.”
“Please,” she scoffed, smacking him on the rear with the rubber spatula she’d just rinsed. “Don’t even pretend to be humble. You just want some ego stroking.”
Mouth open, he stared at her. “Did you just spank me with that thing?”
She shrugged. “It was handy.”
“You know what else is handy?” He grabbed a wooden spoon off the counter and swung it toward her posterior. Twisting around, she parried with the spatula. They dodged and danced around the kitchen in a kitchen-utensil swordfight. Taking advantage of his superior weapon and Daisy’s ill-timed attack of the giggles, Chris drove her back toward the sink. As she tried to hold him off with the spatula in her right hand, she turned the water on with her left and grabbed the spray nozzle.
“Ahh!” Chris yelled, holding up his free hand to ward off the jets of water. “Twenty penalty points for using unauthorized weapons!”
“All kitchen contents and appliances are weapon-use approved. That’s the official Swordfight Code Section 136.8.” Daisy released the sprayer anyway, since she was laughing too hard to stand up straight.
“Who brings a water sprayer to a spoon fight, anyway?” he teased, pulling at his wet T-shirt. It clung to his sculpted chest in a way that made Daisy glad she’d decided to turn their battle into a water fight.
She pretended to ponder the question. “Um…the winner?”
With a snort, Chris swung the spoon he still held toward her rear, but she dodged easily and pretended to reach for the sprayer again.
“Truce?” Chris wiped a droplet of water from his cheek.
“Truce.” Even as she pretended nonchalance, Daisy decided that soaking wet was a good look for Chris…a very good look. As they finished tidying the kitchen, she kept a wary eye out for possible retaliation, but he behaved himself.
As Daisy started the dishwasher, Chris said in a too-casual voice, “Lou also mentioned wanting to talk more about the Willard Gray case with you.”
“Okay?” She didn’t understand why that merited his odd delivery.
“If you don’t want to discuss it with her, she’ll understand.”
Now Daisy was really confused. “Why wouldn’t I want to talk to her about that? It’s fun—okay, that sounded weird, since we’re talking about some poor murdered guy, but it’s interesting. A real-life mystery.”
“She could use someone new to bounce ideas off of. I can’t talk to her about it, and I think she and Callum are both at the point where they’re running around in circles.”
She frowned at Chris. “Why are you trying to talk me into this when I already said I’d do it? The cows are in the corral already, cowboy. You can stop the round-up.”
He gave an amused snort. “Did you just refer to yourself as a cow?”
Waving that off, she said, “I want to talk to Lou about the Gray case. Why are you being weird?”
“I just didn’t want it to, I don’t know, stress you out or anything.”
“Chris Jennings.” Her hands planted on her hips. “Quit treating me like I’m fragile. Don’t make me get the spatula.”
“Just try it.” He smirked. “I’m prepared for your assault now.”
A knock at the door made her fly toward the stairs. “Can you let them in?” she asked over her shoulder. “I have to change.”
“Why change?” His gaze ran over her current outfit of yoga pants and a baggy T-shirt. “What you’re wearing is fine.”
It would take too long to explain the rules of fitness fashion to him, especially since she was fairly fuzzy on them, herself. All she knew was that her clothes were shapeless, smeared with various food items, and smelled like sausage. “Door?”
Although he rolled his eyes, he turned toward the entrance.
“Thank you!” she yelled as she dashed up the stairs.
After a quick change, Daisy hurried out of her bedroom. An attack of nerves hit at the top of the stairs, and she came to a screeching halt. Despite no longer smelling like pork products, Daisy regretted not being the one to answer the door. She hovered for a moment before forcing herself to descend to the first level. From the sound of the voices, Chris had already escorted them to the training room, so at least she didn’t have to worry about everyone watching her come down the stairs, debutante-style.
The mental image made her giggle, but she cut off her laughter as soon as she heard how nervous she sounded. Not allowing herself to hesitate at the bottom of the stairs, she marched through the open gym door.
The room went quiet as soon as she entered, and Daisy hid her cringe, forcing a smile instead. There were a lot of people, and they were all staring at her.
“Daisy!” Of course Lou was the one to speak. Just in the short time she’d known Lou, Daisy had already realized that silence
was the other woman’s nemesis. “I know I’ve already seen this place, but I’d forgotten exactly how awesome it really is. Thanks for letting us do this.”
“No problem.” Her voice cracked in the middle and squeaked at the end, so she cleared her throat, hoping her next attempt wouldn’t make her sound like a pubescent boy. “It’ll be fun to have new sparring partners.” Even as she said it, though, doubt filled her as her eyes settled on a bearded giant. Despite her years of training with Chris, there was no way she could take on that one. She’d have to go with flight, rather than fight, if he got hostile.
“The big guy you’re really hoping not to go up against is George Holloway.” Lou’s mind-reading made Daisy blush as she nodded to the oversized man. “Next to him is his girlfriend, Ellie. You probably know Ian and Rory, since they’re your neighbors.” Daisy did kind of know them, although they looked different close up. “And you’ve already met me and Callum, so I think the introductions are done, and we’re ready to be turned into human weapons.”
Ellie laughed at that, and a few of the others smiled. When Chris stepped forward, drawing everyone’s attention, Daisy gave a silent sigh of relief.
“Sorry, Lou. No human-weapon creation today. I need to get a sense of what each person’s conditioning and skill levels are, so we’re going to do some circuit training. Ellie, I know you’re still recovering, so just do what you can. If something hurts, stop.” She nodded, her hand raising to hover above her breastbone.
As he explained each station, Daisy listened with half an ear, sneaking glances at the visitors. Ellie and George were a mismatched pair—her so slight and elegant and him such a typical mountain man. Although the two weren’t touching, they stood close. One of George’s hands held the pull-up bar above their heads, tilting his body forward slightly and giving the impression that he was hovering over his girlfriend.
Turning her attention to Ian and Rory, she marveled at how striking they were. Ian could’ve been a fitness-apparel model dropped into her home gym, and although Rory wasn’t traditionally beautiful, there was something about her bearing that demanded attention. Her face serious, Rory was listening intently to Chris’s instructions, but Ian caught Daisy’s look and raised his eyebrows in question.
Embarrassed to be caught gawking, she shook her head and focused on Chris, knowing she was red from her forehead to her upper chest. Daisy was aware she was an antisocial recluse, but she didn’t have to prove it to everyone in the first ten minutes of them meeting her.
With a clap of his hands, Chris sent them to their stations. Seeing that the treadmill was free, Daisy hopped on and arrowed up the speed. Once she was running at her usual warm-up pace, she was free to look around again, although she tried to be more discreet about it this time.
Standing next to the heavy bag, Lou and Callum were chatting with Chris as they wrapped their hands. Rory and Ian had chosen the jump ropes. As Daisy watched enviously, they competed with each other to see who could do the most doubles in a row.
At the pull-up bar, Ellie was struggling to raise her chin over the top when she winced and lowered herself until she was hanging from the bar with her arms fully extended. Grabbing either side of her waist, George lifted her until her face and most of her chest was above the bar. At first, Ellie’s eyes rounded in surprise, but then she started laughing.
“That’s one way to do assisted pull-ups,” Chris said wryly before turning back to Lou. He watched her throw a straight punch and then corrected her form.
An uncomfortable feeling built inside Daisy as she watched them—watched everyone, in fact. It wasn’t envy of their comfortable twosomes, but more a longing, a wistfulness, as if she were looking at a picture of something she would never have. Her foot caught on the edge of the belt, making her trip. She caught herself before falling, but it reminded her to pay attention before she ate the floor and experienced true humiliation.
“You okay?” Chris called from across the room, where he’d moved next to Ellie, George, and the pull-up bar. She gave him a wave, wishing he hadn’t called attention to her little bobble. Unable to keep her attention away from Chris for very long, she kept darting glances in his direction. Daisy frowned. There seemed to be some tension between Chris, Ellie, and George. She made a mental note to ask Chris for the story later.
Pulling her attention away from the threesome, Daisy increased the speed to her normal running pace. When she looked up from the digital display, she almost tripped again. Callum was standing right next to the treadmill.
“Hi?” Her voice was uncertain.
He nodded toward the display. “Good pace. Do you swim?”
That was random. “Um…not really. I took lessons when I was a kid, but I don’t have much opportunity now.”
“Huh,” he grunted.
“Why?”
“Your fitness is impressive. You’d make a good candidate for the rescue dive team.”
Daisy was glad her legs were running on autopilot, since she would’ve stopped and been dumped off the back of the treadmill otherwise. “I don’t really…well, leave the house. Ever.”
His next grunt was dismissive, as if she’d just told him she couldn’t dive because she had a head cold. “Too bad.” With a final lift of his chin, he returned to where Lou was practicing uppercuts.
“Don’t listen to him, Daisy.” Ian’s raised voice brought her gaze to him, where he was still jumping rope with the ease of an expert. “Fire is better than the dive team. Who wants to jump into icy water?”
“Please. Fire, schmire. Who wants to run into a burning building?” Lou countered, sounding breathless. Her fist connected with the heavy bag. “Daisy would only join Fire if she were a gossipy old woman, which she’s not.”
“Everyone knows that firefighters are at the top of the first-responder food chain.” Ian threw in a couple of crisscrosses, just, Daisy was sure, to show off. “I don’t see a calendar featuring rescue divers. Help me out here, Ror.”
“I don’t know.” Rory’s expression was completely deadpan. “I was thinking about quitting the fire department and joining the dive team.”
There was a moment of shocked silence. In the middle of throwing a straight punch, Lou turned toward Rory, so her fist missed the bag altogether. Thrown off balance, Lou fell, grabbing the bag on her way down. Callum lunged to catch her, but she was already sitting on the floor, laughing, by the time he reached her.
Ian stared at Rory, eyes wide, until a tiny smile tugged up one corner of her mouth. Eyes narrowing, he gave her a light push on the shoulder, just hard enough to knock her off balance so she missed her jump.
“Hey!” she complained, untangling her jump rope from her legs. “I was going for a record there.”
“Just wait,” he said in a mock growl. “I’ll get you back for that, sometime when you’re not expecting it.”
Resuming her jumping, Rory rolled her eyes without missing a beat. Daisy was impressed. “I think you’re overestimating your stealth.”
In response, Ian waited until the rope was swinging over her head and then poked her in the side. It must have been a ticklish spot, since Rory yanked her arms down, dropping the jump rope onto her head. She glared at him while he grinned.
“I’m plenty stealthy.”
A “whoa” from Lou caught Daisy’s attention, and she followed the other woman’s gaze to where George was doing pull-ups. Despite his loose-fitting sweatpants and T-shirt, his muscles stood out in obvious relief. Even though Daisy thought Chris was about as perfect as a guy could get, she had to admit that George’s body was incredible. The sheer power of his arms as he flexed and extended them was truly awe-inspiring.
Mesmerized by the show of male strength and beauty, Daisy lost count of how many times George’s chin rose above the bar before he dropped to the floor.
“That was…nice, honey.” Ellie’s gaze was fixed on George like he wa
s a piece of chocolate cake, and he smiled at her.
“I’m next.” Callum sounded cranky as he jumped to grab the bar.
Lou snickered. “Sorry I was ogling another guy, Cal. You know you’re my favorite man candy.” She paused as Callum pulled his body upward. “Oh my. Yes, you’re definitely my favorite.”
Chris and Ian jostled to be next at the bar when Callum finished after an unreal number of pull-ups. A well-placed elbow knocked Ian back just long enough for Chris to jump for the bar. Not to be deterred, Ian grabbed the section of bar next to Chris, and they pulled themselves up in tandem.
“I feel like we’re remiss in not recording this,” Ellie breathed, her eyes fixed on the show until George stepped in front of her, blocking her view. “Hey!”
Although Daisy knew Chris was in good shape, she always tried not to stare at him too long, in case it got weird. She couldn’t take her eyes off him now, though. As she watched his biceps stretch his sleeves and his shirt cling to his contracting chest, her legs moved slower and slower until the treadmill belt kicked her off the back. She stumbled, regaining her balance without dropping her gaze from Chris.
Because there were two of them, the competition was intense, and neither wanted to be the first to drop off the bar. With their teeth showing in tight grimaces and the veins bulging in their arms, they grunted with each raise. Chris got stuck two-thirds of the way up, his arms shaking with effort, but he held the position for a fraction of a second longer than Ian.
Their feet hit the floor at almost the same time, and Chris looked over at Daisy. She knew she should look away, but someone else was apparently controlling her body, since it was impossible. It took Rory’s voice to break their connected gaze.
“I’m not sure what the protocol is on this,” she said, idly running the rope through her hands as she watched a panting Ian shake out his arms. “Should I run to you and throw myself into your arms, overwhelmed by your display of masculine power?” Her flat delivery struck Daisy as funny, and she started to laugh. Instead of taking offense, Ian grinned.
