by Katie Ruggle
“This is awesome.” Apparently, the whistle had been in admiration of the room, not condemnation of its untidiness. “Man, I’m jealous. If I had this nice of a gym in my house, I probably wouldn’t leave either.”
Chris, who’d dropped his hands from her shoulders when they’d moved into the training room, stiffened and put a hand on her lower back. Daisy gave him a reassuring smile. Junior’s comment was probably the least upsetting thing that had happened in the past few hours.
Oblivious to Chris’s irritation, Junior grinned as he waved her toward a weight bench. “Your throne, gym princess.”
She smiled and took a seat, but Ian cuffed the back of the other fireman’s helmet.
“Watch it,” Ian growled. “Jennings is ready to rip off your”—he paused with a quick glance at Daisy—“face.”
She ducked her head to hide her amusement. Hovering behind her, Chris made a wordless sound confirming Ian’s warning.
Junior didn’t seem too concerned, judging by the wink he gave her as he wrapped the blood-pressure cuff around her upper arm. He did keep his comments to himself while he took her vitals, although that might have been his professionalism kicking in.
“Everything’s within normal range,” he told her as he unclipped the oximeter from her finger. “I’m assuming you don’t want to visit the hospital?” When she shook her head, he continued, “Medical’s outside, so I can have the paramedics come in and check you out, if you want.”
“Won’t they just check the same things?” she asked.
He grinned at her. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“They don’t need to come in, then. I’m fine.”
“Daisy…” Chris said in his I-know-better-than-you tone, and she turned her head to give him her best no-you-don’t glare.
“I’m fine,” she said firmly. “Thank you, Junior.”
“Anytime.” As he put his equipment away, his eyes roamed the room. “Although if you really want to show your gratitude, you could let me use your gym once in a while.”
“Of course.” She frowned. “Although we might have to start a new training group, since it’s already a pretty tight fit with eight people.”
“Eight?”
“Yes.” She ticked each person off on her fingers as she named them. “Me, Chris, Ian, Rory, Lou, Callum, George, and Ellie.”
Junior whipped around to scowl at Ian. “You’ve been working out here with a bunch of hot chicks and haven’t invited any of the rest of us? Way to hold out on your fire brothers, Beauty.”
“Thanks, Daisy,” Ian groaned. “Now we’ll never keep him out of here. There’s a gym at Station One, Junior.”
“Yeah, with crappy equipment and zero hot chicks. I want to come here.”
“We could have firefighter training days,” Daisy suggested, twisting to look at Chris. “They could just come and use the equipment, so you wouldn’t have to give up more of your time to coach.”
“Nuh-uh.” Junior shook his head. “I want the coed training time.”
“Don’t make me have to smack you again.” Ian raised a hand, but he grabbed the back of Junior’s coat instead of hitting him that time. “Get your bag. Let’s go.”
“You okay, Daisy?” Rory’s voice brought everyone’s attention to the doorway where she stood.
When she saw the other woman, Daisy felt her earlier guilt resurface. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Rory took a few steps into the room. Her bunker gear was obviously new, almost painfully clean compared to the guys’ soot-darkened coats and pants.
“For beating up Ian and almost getting him blown up,” she admitted in a rush, swallowing back the tears that wanted to break free.
“You beat up Beauty?” Junior asked, his glee obvious.
At the same time, Ian protested, “You didn’t beat me up.”
Ignoring both men, Daisy focused on Rory. “I’m sorry. When he tried to make me go outside, I panicked. I didn’t think he’d stay in here with me.”
“Tell us about the beat down,” Junior urged, “in very specific detail. Did you make Ian cry like a tiny baby?”
Daisy didn’t even glance at him, too worried about Rory hating her for endangering her soon-to-be fiancé. Well, soon-to-be fiancé if Ian didn’t screw it up by burying the engagement ring in shredded meat slathered with barbeque sauce. Corralling her straying brain, she watched Rory’s face for any hint of loathing.
“His hero complex isn’t your fault,” Rory said, sending a quick smile in Ian’s direction. “He’d never leave someone in danger. That’s just who he is.”
“If I would’ve just let him carry me outside instead of doing that knee strike…” Even just saying the words made sweat dampen her palms.
“It worked out, Dais.” Chris had been standing quietly behind her, but now he wrapped an arm around her upper chest in a backward hug. “Everyone’s okay, and you can work on getting out of the house in your own time.”
“You need to make some changes, though,” Ian said, crossing the room to stand next to Rory. “If you can’t leave, you need to make this house as safe as possible. A sprinkler system would be a good start.”
“Oh!” Rory’s normally grave face lit with enthusiasm. “A panic room. Fireproof, explosion-proof, with a separate ventilation system, so you’d be safe from smoke inhalation or gas leaks. It’d also protect you during a home invasion.”
“Or a zombie attack,” Ian teased, giving her an affectionate bump with his shoulder. Even though she rolled her eyes, Rory couldn’t hide the smile that was trying to break free.
“Thanks.” Daisy suddenly felt exhausted. “But I really just want to leave the house. Then, I won’t need a panic room, since I can panic outside.”
“Everyone can use a panic room,” Rory said with a sideways glance at Ian. “If you have one, I could run across the street and use yours, since we don’t have one.”
It was Ian’s turn to roll his eyes. “Maybe, if you’re a very good girl, Santa will bring you a panic room for Christmas.”
“Really?” Her eyes grew wide as she turned to Ian. “We’re getting a safe room?”
Daisy was starting to think that Ian should propose with a panic room instead of a ring.
“Possibly.” He grimaced. “I might have to win the lottery first.”
“Everyone okay in here?” Once again, a voice from the doorway drew everyone’s attention. That time, it was Chief Early entering the training room. “Whoa. This is a nice set-up.”
“Daisy invited everyone from Fire to use it,” Junior piped up. “She’s going to have coed training sessions, too.”
The sound that came from Chris was a strange combination of a laugh and a growl. “You just make up whatever reality you want, don’t you?”
“Yep.” Junior grinned, as if he’d been complimented.
The chief cleared his throat.
“Daisy’s fine,” Ian belatedly answered.
“Good.” After giving Daisy a nod, the chief turned a stern face toward Ian. “A word?” Even though it was phrased as a question, there was no hiding the command in his voice.
Looking resigned, Ian gave Rory’s arm a squeeze before following Chief Early out of the room.
“What was that about?” Daisy asked.
Junior looked serious for the first time since she’d met him. “Ian disobeyed a direct order. Not sure what the repercussions will be. Could be he just gets chewed out.” His doubtful tone indicated that he didn’t think Ian would get off so lightly.
“What order did he disobey?” Her gaze darted from person to person. From their grim expressions, everyone knew what was going on except for Daisy. None of them answered, so she tried to work it out in her mind. When he’d talked on the radio, his words had been muffled, so she hadn’t been able to understand what he’d said until he raised his voice lou
d enough for her to hear through the door.
From the other three’s reluctance to answer her, she had to assume his refusal had something to do with her. Had the chief ordered him to take her out of the house? Ian shouldn’t be blamed for her actions, and she’d made it impossible for him to force her to leave. What else would the chief have ordered Ian to do?
Her breath caught as the answer popped into her head—so obvious that she was angry with herself for taking so long to figure it out.
“He was ordered to evacuate.” Her voice was flat as another layer of guilt settled over her. “Chief Early told Ian to get out of the house, but he wouldn’t because I wouldn’t leave.”
“It’s not the first time.” Junior reached a hand toward her, as if to give her a consoling pat on the shoulder, but he withdrew it without touching her after a wary glance at Chris. “Not even the tenth. Walsh has some issues with the command structure. Chief says, ‘Get your ass out of there now,’ and Ian’s brain adds, ‘Unless you have a better idea.’”
“He won’t leave anyone behind.” Although Rory was frowning as she watched the door, she didn’t seem angry at Daisy. “Much less a friend.”
“Should I talk to the chief?” Daisy asked, leaning back against Chris. His arms tightened around her, and she felt even guiltier for receiving comfort that she didn’t deserve. All of this had been her stupid fault. “If anyone is reprimanded, it should be me. Ian probably won’t even tell him about the knee strike.”
“I’m still waiting to hear about that.” Although Junior’s tone was light, there was still tension underneath his teasing. Like Rory, his gaze was fixed on the door.
Daisy smiled halfheartedly. “I think I’ve done enough damage to Ian today. You don’t need more ammunition.”
“But it’s important to give Beauty a hard time,” Junior protested, his amusement becoming more genuine. “If we don’t shrink that head of his, it’ll explode. The dude is seriously too hot for his own good.”
Opening her mouth, Daisy closed it again without speaking, not sure how to respond to that. When she glanced at Rory, she saw the other woman roll her eyes and look briefly amused. Daisy decided to change the subject for the good of them all.
“Who’s watching the gun store?” she asked Rory.
“No one.” Rory turned her attention away from the door as she answered. “When the call came through, I stuck my ‘Back Later’ sign on the door and headed this way. Ian beat me here, though, since he was already at the Simpson grocery store when he heard the call. He left his basket of food and ran outside. When he heard the sirens of Rescue One approaching, he realized they’d go right by the store, so he grabbed his bunker gear from his Bronco, flagged them down, and hitched a ride.”
“Should we see if they’re done boarding up the windows?” If they weren’t, she’d rather not wander into the kitchen or living room and face the gaping holes, but her phobia had caused enough issues for the day. She was going to pretend to be a normal person, just for a while.
“I’ll go check,” Rory volunteered, darting out the door even before she finished saying the words.
“And I’ll make sure Rory doesn’t decide to defend her man by shooting the chief or something.” Grabbing his medical bag, Junior followed her into the hall.
When they were alone, Daisy craned her neck to look up at Chris. At that oblique angle, all she could really see was the underside of his jaw—his very tense jaw.
“You okay?” she asked, trying to pull away so she could look more directly at his face.
“No.” His other arm joined the first, so she was doubly locked to his chest.
Giving up on her escape attempt, she relaxed in his hold, feeling the usual rush of security and desire. She’d happily spend the rest of her life in Chris’s arms.
“You could’ve died, Dais,” he said, his voice rough. “I couldn’t do anything out there, except watch your house and pray it didn’t explode.”
“I’m sorry.” Patting his arm, she winced. Her apology seemed so…paltry in response to the residual terror she could hear in his words.
“I know.” His lips pressed against the top of her head. “And I know there’s nothing you can do, except continue what you’ve been doing. It’s just that I’ve always thought you were safe in your house. Now, with the fire across the street and this gas leak… It feels like you’re stuck in a trap.”
“Yeah.” The same thought had occurred to her, and she shivered. “My thinking brain knows that, but the rest of me is determined that outside is the scariest place.” That time, when she pulled away, Chris let her go. She stood and turned to face him full-on, so he could see how serious she was about her next words. “I’m going to do it, Chris. I’m going to get out of here.”
“Yeah, you will.” She could tell he truly believed it, and her chest warmed. Having Chris on her side made everything seem possible, and it made her even more determined to become the partner he deserved. It was terrifying, the thought of leaving the house, but the idea of continuing her lonely, trapped life was even more frightening. She stood on her toes, stretching up to meet him as he bent to kiss her.
Their lips had barely made contact when Junior’s voice made them jerk apart. “Yo. Windows are done, and you’re needed in the kitchen.”
“Which ‘you’?” Chris asked, not hiding his irritation at the interruption very well.
Junior shrugged with a grin and then disappeared from the doorway.
His chest lifting and then falling again in a silent sigh, Chris pressed his lips to her temple and then took a step back. “Ready?”
He didn’t specify what exactly he was asking. Was she ready to face the broken windows, the other firefighters, the chief, Ian, or her stove? Except for the last one, the honest answer was “no.” But when Chris held out a hand, his smile closer now to his usual happy one, she interlaced her fingers with his.
“Let’s do this.”
Chapter 20
“Sorry I wasn’t able to get here before this.” Guilt made the lines in the stove repairman’s leprechaun-like face droop. Apparently, there was a lot of that emotion being passed around. “Seemed like everyone and his brother needed repairs done this past week.” Wally gave her newly fixed stove a glare. “I didn’t think this was going to turn into a real emergency, though.”
“I didn’t either,” Chris told him, giving Wally’s shoulder a friendly slap. “If I’d thought it was going to be a problem, I would’ve been harassing you to get over here.”
The repairman frowned. “Like I told the sheriff, it was a freak thing the way it started leaking. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Chris’s cop-face settled into place. “What do you think caused it?”
Lifting his hands in an I-don’t-know gesture, Wally shook his mostly bald head. “No idea how the line could’ve been damaged like that.”
“Do you think it was intentional?”
Until Chris asked that question, Daisy’s attention had been only half-focused on the guys’ discussion. She hadn’t been able to keep her gaze from drifting to the sheets of plywood hiding the empty window frames. Once she heard the word “intentional,” however, she jerked her head around so she could stare at them.
Wally gave a hoot of laughter. “You cops, always looking for foul play. Who’d want to hurt this nice lady?” He bobbed his head in Daisy’s direction.
“There’s no way the damage could’ve been deliberate, then?” Chris pushed, not sharing the repairman’s amusement.
“Well, I wouldn’t say there was ‘no way’ someone did this on purpose.” Wally smoothed the white fringe that circled his bald spot. “Just doubtful, that’s all. You done with this witness, Deputy?” Without waiting for an answer, he started collecting his tools. Chris ignored the sarcastic remark and stared at the stove.
“Thanks for coming over so quickly,” Da
isy said when it became evident that Chris was too wrapped up in his thoughts to continue the conversation.
Wally waved off her thanks. “I’m just sorry I didn’t get here before all of this”—he gestured toward the wood-covered kitchen window—“happened.”
With a nod, she escorted the repairman to the door. He lifted his cowboy hat from the coat rack and tipped it toward her before exiting. Once the inner door closed behind him, Daisy’s hand reached for the first dead bolt out of habit, but she caught herself before she could lock it. Letting her hand drop to her side, she stared at the unsecured door, reminding herself that she had made progress, despite what had happened earlier.
Shaking off the residual guilt and shame, she headed back into the kitchen, where Chris was still staring at the stove. Everyone else had left almost an hour ago, and the house seemed oddly quiet without the firemen and deputies stomping around the place.
“Chris? Did you enter a fugue state or something?” She boosted herself onto the counter next to the stove.
Although he turned his head toward her and focused on her face, he ignored her question. “Did anything unusual happen between when I left this morning and the gas leak?”
“Unusual?” She frowned at the cabinets directly across from her, trying to recall. It felt like a week had passed, rather than just hours. “Let’s see. You left—and it was more like afternoon than morning—so I finished packing up the dolls. No, wait. Before that, I took a shower, texted my grocery list to Tyler, and then I got the dolls ready to be shipped. Oh!” It wasn’t really relevant to what Chris had asked, but she’d forgotten in all the hubbub. “I met Bill for the first time—in person, I mean, instead of just over the intercom.”
“Bill?” There was an icy edge to his voice.
“Yes. You know, Bill the delivery driver? Beard and belly?”
“Right.” For whatever reason, his tone had warmed to its normal temperature. “The dolls are gone, then? You survived. Congratulations.”
