Read Online Hold Your Breath (Search and Rescue) by Katie Ruggle - Free Book Online
Authors: Katie Ruggle
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could dampen her happiness. “Oh please, you drama queen. We all have our own breathing masks. It’s not like in junior high babysitter certification where all that was between you and the last girl’s spit was a funky-tasting alcohol wipe.”
“Whoa.” Derek blinked. “That image is…disturbing.”
She smirked at him and hauled her chair tower into the storage room, dumping the stack by the one Derek had just deposited. A small, pained sound next to her brought her head around. Callum was eyeing the slightly lopsided, uneven stacks with a scowl.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking from the chairs to his face and back.
“It’s fine.” One look at his twitching jaw muscle told her that it was not at all fine. When he reached out to straighten one of the chairs that hung a little drunkenly on top of its brothers, realization dawned.
“It’s okay,” she assured him, taking a step back. “It won’t hurt my feelings if you rearrange them.”
“It’ll hurt mine,” Derek objected as he entered the small room with the last few chairs. “I worked really hard to get these arranged exactly the way I wanted them. It’s like art. Chair art.” He tipped the newly straightened chair so it drooped askew again.
Callum glared at Derek, who was shifting another chair so the legs were misaligned.
“Stop,” Lou scolded, although she couldn’t completely erase the laughter from her voice. She gave Derek a push toward the door. “Don’t torture his OCD soul.”
The hard gaze shifted to Lou, and she held up her hands defensively. “Not that I’m saying you have OCD or anything. You just like things to be organized. Really, really organized.” When Callum didn’t look any happier, she gave up trying to appease him and just focused on getting Derek out of the storage room with another hard shove.
“Ow!” he whined as she herded him like a sheepdog, but he gave in to her less-than-gentle nudges and stepped through the doorway. As he entered the main training room, he gave a yelp at the sight of the huge digital clock on the wall. “It’s late! I’m going to run. See you kids later.”
“See you,” Lou responded, waving as he grabbed his gear and headed to the parking lot. She turned back to the open storage-room door and stopped abruptly. In the short time it had taken for her and Derek to exchange good-byes, Callum had moved the chairs into perfectly even, exactly aligned stacks, arranged in two rows with almost frightening precision.
“Wow.” Lou couldn’t look away from the Stepford chairs. “That’s…um, tidy.”
With a satisfied grunt, Callum turned to face her. “Want to do some research?”
She beamed at him. “Yes, please. Here? Or do you want to go to my place?” With an inner wince, she thought of the lived-in look of her cabin. It was never actually dirty, but it was rather messy. Maybe taking Callum to her place wasn’t a great idea. “Or here is fine, too.”
He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again silently. His gaze had moved to something behind her, so she turned around to look through the doorway into the training room to see what had distracted him.
“Hey, Cal.” It was firemen-calendar-centerfold himself, Ian Walsh. “And it’s Louise, right?”
“Lou,” she corrected, although she couldn’t help smiling. She also might have batted her eyelashes, just a little. Ian was just too perfect, as if he’d been modeled after someone’s sexy fireman dream.
Callum moved around her, bumping her shoulder on the way. She shot him a surprised look. Callum was many aggravating things, but rude was normally not one of them. He didn’t seem to notice her miffed gaze, too busy giving Ian the glare of icy death.
“Walsh,” he said. “Need something?”
“Forgot my phone,” Ian explained, apparently unoffended by Callum’s chilly tone. Instead, one side of his mouth quirked up in a half smile. “I’m addicted to the thing.”
“Oh, me too.” Lou
“Whoa.” Derek blinked. “That image is…disturbing.”
She smirked at him and hauled her chair tower into the storage room, dumping the stack by the one Derek had just deposited. A small, pained sound next to her brought her head around. Callum was eyeing the slightly lopsided, uneven stacks with a scowl.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking from the chairs to his face and back.
“It’s fine.” One look at his twitching jaw muscle told her that it was not at all fine. When he reached out to straighten one of the chairs that hung a little drunkenly on top of its brothers, realization dawned.
“It’s okay,” she assured him, taking a step back. “It won’t hurt my feelings if you rearrange them.”
“It’ll hurt mine,” Derek objected as he entered the small room with the last few chairs. “I worked really hard to get these arranged exactly the way I wanted them. It’s like art. Chair art.” He tipped the newly straightened chair so it drooped askew again.
Callum glared at Derek, who was shifting another chair so the legs were misaligned.
“Stop,” Lou scolded, although she couldn’t completely erase the laughter from her voice. She gave Derek a push toward the door. “Don’t torture his OCD soul.”
The hard gaze shifted to Lou, and she held up her hands defensively. “Not that I’m saying you have OCD or anything. You just like things to be organized. Really, really organized.” When Callum didn’t look any happier, she gave up trying to appease him and just focused on getting Derek out of the storage room with another hard shove.
“Ow!” he whined as she herded him like a sheepdog, but he gave in to her less-than-gentle nudges and stepped through the doorway. As he entered the main training room, he gave a yelp at the sight of the huge digital clock on the wall. “It’s late! I’m going to run. See you kids later.”
“See you,” Lou responded, waving as he grabbed his gear and headed to the parking lot. She turned back to the open storage-room door and stopped abruptly. In the short time it had taken for her and Derek to exchange good-byes, Callum had moved the chairs into perfectly even, exactly aligned stacks, arranged in two rows with almost frightening precision.
“Wow.” Lou couldn’t look away from the Stepford chairs. “That’s…um, tidy.”
With a satisfied grunt, Callum turned to face her. “Want to do some research?”
She beamed at him. “Yes, please. Here? Or do you want to go to my place?” With an inner wince, she thought of the lived-in look of her cabin. It was never actually dirty, but it was rather messy. Maybe taking Callum to her place wasn’t a great idea. “Or here is fine, too.”
He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again silently. His gaze had moved to something behind her, so she turned around to look through the doorway into the training room to see what had distracted him.
“Hey, Cal.” It was firemen-calendar-centerfold himself, Ian Walsh. “And it’s Louise, right?”
“Lou,” she corrected, although she couldn’t help smiling. She also might have batted her eyelashes, just a little. Ian was just too perfect, as if he’d been modeled after someone’s sexy fireman dream.
Callum moved around her, bumping her shoulder on the way. She shot him a surprised look. Callum was many aggravating things, but rude was normally not one of them. He didn’t seem to notice her miffed gaze, too busy giving Ian the glare of icy death.
“Walsh,” he said. “Need something?”
“Forgot my phone,” Ian explained, apparently unoffended by Callum’s chilly tone. Instead, one side of his mouth quirked up in a half smile. “I’m addicted to the thing.”
“Oh, me too.” Lou
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