by Katie Ruggle
“Do you eat meat?” Otto asked through the door.
“Yes.”
“Bread?”
“Yes.”
“Vegetables?”
With a small laugh, Sarah walked over and opened the door. He shifted back, obviously taken off guard. “Yes, and I want to help make lunch.”
“You don’t have to,” he started to protest, but she moved toward him, determined not to be a burden.
Just like when she’d gotten out of his squad car earlier that day, he didn’t give way as she shifted forward, so they ended up just inches apart. Tipping her head back, Sarah stared up at him. From that angle, he seemed like a giant—a beautiful, Nordic giant—but she didn’t feel any nervousness around him. She understood why Bean had felt safe enough to get close to Otto. The man radiated security and steadiness. She felt completely safe and utterly attracted to him at the same time.
He looked down at her, his light-blue eyes oddly warm. It was hard to read him. Sarah knew that wasn’t just because of his excellent poker face. Her lack of experience was working against her as well. She wanted to kiss him. In fact, there wasn’t anything she would rather do in that moment than kiss him, but she lacked the nerve to reach up, grab him by the ears, and pull his head down so she could plant one on him. Just the thought made nervous giggles bubble up in her throat.
Her impending laughter was smothered as he shifted closer. In fact, Sarah couldn’t breathe at all as she waited to see what he was about to do. Raising a hand, Otto brushed his knuckles lightly across her cheek. His skin was rough, but he was so careful that it didn’t hurt at all. Her cheek warmed under his touch, and she leaned into the caress, understanding why every animal seemed to gravitate toward Otto, why they groaned with pleasure when he petted them. It was the best feeling in the world to be touched by Otto Gunnersen.
He cupped her face with both hands, still with that infinite gentleness that made her want to smile and burst into tears at the same time. He leaned toward her, slowly, every move careful and easy, as if he didn’t want to startle her. The light blue of his eyes was as hot as blue flames, and an answering fire leapt to life inside her chest. The heat spread through her, warming her down to her toes. She didn’t need the hat he’d given her to stay warm. He just needed to touch her, and she ignited.
As he got nearer, her heart sped up in anticipation. She could barely breathe as he leaned closer…and then paused when their lips were just an inch apart. Sarah wanted to cry. They were so close, and she wanted him to kiss her so badly, and she hoped desperately for all interruptions to wait just a few more minutes.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
The air from his words brushed her mouth, distracting her. When she didn’t answer, Otto pulled back slightly.
“Yes!” Her answer came out so fervently that she would’ve been embarrassed if she hadn’t been so frantically, enormously eager. “It’s fine. It’s good, in fact. I mean, it will be good, or I’m pretty sure it will. You need to kiss me now so that I’ll stop talking.”
His chuckle came from deep in his chest, so low it was almost soundless, but Sarah heard it and felt an intense pleasure at making him laugh. Then his mouth was on hers, and any thoughts of laughter or babbling awkwardness—or even possessive, sociopathic brothers—washed away. She’d been right. It was good…very, very good.
The kiss started softly. It wasn’t tentative, just gentle. It lured Sarah, made her want to get as close as possible. Otto kissed like he lived: soft and sweet and wonderfully caring.
As she moved closer, the kiss deepened, intensified. Otto groaned, another chest-deep sound, and shifted forward, pressing her back against the doorframe. Sarah clutched two handfuls of his shirt, pulling him even more tightly against her. She lost track of time, distracted by the feel of his mouth on hers. When he eventually eased away, she blinked, trying to return to reality. Her brain was telling her that barely any time had passed, but her lips were swollen and a little sore, which meant that they’d been kissing for a while.
Otto smiled at her, slow and sweet, and she had to restrain herself from lunging at him and capturing his mouth again. Instead, she forced her hands to release the flannel balled in her grip. Sarah smoothed his shirt, flattening the wrinkles she’d caused. His chest was as solid as wood beneath the fabric, and she stroked again, this time for a different reason.
Chuckling, he put his hands over hers, stilling them. “Lunch?”
Even though she’d rather have kept kissing him, Sarah was too unsure about what was happening to say that out loud. Instead, she nodded and then followed him down the glossy hardwood stairs. Running her hand lightly along the carved banister, she marveled at how beautiful and well-kept the house was, even though it had obviously been built around the same time as Jules’s place.
“I love your house,” she said as they entered the spacious kitchen. “Did you grow up here?”
“No.” His tone was a little short as he started pulling food out of the refrigerator, and Sarah was worried that she’d overstepped until he spoke again. “I bought this place five years ago.”
“Who used to live here?” Sarah moved over to stand next to him, leaning against the counter as he began assembling sandwiches. From that position, she could watch his face. She would’ve loved to ask more questions about his childhood, about him, but she didn’t feel that she knew him well enough to go poking around in possible sore spots. They’d kissed, but they’d only had a handful of conversations. Officer Otto Gunnersen was still a huge, gorgeous, animal-loving mystery to her.
“An older couple.” A small smile tilted up the corners of his mouth, and Sarah desperately wanted to kiss him again. Apparently, the taste she’d gotten earlier had just whetted her appetite for more. “Monroe was getting too crowded for them. They moved west to a remote spot in the mountains.”
“Too crowded?” she repeated. “I’ve seen fewer than a dozen people in town.”
“The Branigans were…independent. They were the ones who connected the basement to the old mining tunnels so that they’d have an escape route if something happened.”
Sarah felt her eyes get round. “Does this house have other secret passageways?”
“One…well, two, if you count the tunnel that leads to the barn.”
“That counts.” Sarah resisted the urge to go back and check out the tunnels immediately. She felt like she was in the middle of an old Scooby-Doo episode. Even in the sprawling mansion she’d escaped, there weren’t any interesting quirks. It was just a lot of rooms in an expensive shell. “Can we explore them later?”
He darted a quick glance at her as his smile grew. “If you like.”
“I would most definitely like.” Sarah gave an exaggerated nod to emphasize how very much she would enjoy exploring the hidden secrets of his home. Their gazes met and held, and his smile faded, replaced by an intent stare that warmed her all over.
A whine broke the spell, and they both looked down to see Mort and the cat—named Bob, Sarah had learned—sitting side by side, looking at Otto with pleading eyes. Otto sent Sarah a sideways glance that held a little guilt before giving both animals a tiny bit of the sliced turkey he was using to make their sandwiches. “They’re a little spoiled,” Otto admitted, giving her another sheepish look.
Sarah couldn’t stop the smile that spread over her face, even though she knew she must look like the sappiest person who’d ever lived. It was just that Otto proved over and over again how kind a person he was, and Sarah’s previous life had not been full of kind people—just the opposite, in fact. She was used to ambition and casual cruelty. Kindness was new—new and enormously attractive.
She realized that she was staring at him again, but he’d busied himself with putting the sandwich fixings away and didn’t appear to have noticed her obsession. Dragging her gaze away, she gave herself a mental lecture. She needed to be careful, to guard her heart.
She’d be leaving soon, after all. Besides, one kiss did not mean that he was head over heels in love with her. With every gentle, caring gesture he made—whether it was directed at her or some other person, or animal—Sarah got a little bit more attached. That kiss… She blew out a hard breath. That had pushed her over the edge. She was falling for someone she barely knew, who barely knew her, but she couldn’t stop herself. She’d been doomed from the second he’d shown her how to feed an orphaned puppy.
Shaking off her distraction while promising she’d work harder to ignore Otto’s finer qualities, Sarah realized that he was watching her, a quizzical look on his face. “Sorry, did you ask me something?”
“Just if everything’s okay,” he said, placing two filled plates on the table. “You looked…anxious.”
Her brain blanked as she struggled to find an explanation that did not include her actual thoughts. If he knew what she was thinking, it would be horribly embarrassing—and would probably send him running hard and fast away from her clingy self. Sarah sat down at the table, using that as an excuse to delay her answer. With a groan, Mort settled onto the heat vent again, and she seized on the first non-sappy thought that occurred to her. “Oh. Um…just thinking about the puppies. It’s strange not having them around. It’s been less than a day, but I keep getting that feeling like I’m forgetting to do something, you know?”
With an amused sound, Otto sat down next to her. The chairs weren’t that close together, but he was so big that his knee brushed hers. Heat radiated from the spot where they touched, and she was inordinately happy when he didn’t shift away. It was just a small bit of contact, but she felt as if every nerve in her body was focused on that spot. “I’m doing that same thing,” he said, and it took a moment for Sarah to remember what they were talking about. That tiny touch of his knee against hers was just too distracting. “I keep thinking I’m late feeding them.”
“I’m pretty sure Dee would’ve wrestled you down and taken the puppies by force if you hadn’t agreed to let them stay there for the weekend. Theo didn’t look that excited about two days of puppy-sitting, though.” She took a bite of her sandwich and barely resisted letting her eyes roll back in ecstasy. Even though she’d grown up eating food made by a professional chef, this simple sandwich tasted better than anything she’d ever eaten. “Wow. This is so good. No, better than good… This is amazing!”
His small smile was even better than the sandwich. “Thanks. I like to cook. Not that making sandwiches counts as cooking.”
“Well, you’re incredible at it.” She took another bite, closing her eyes as she chewed. “I’ve never had a simple sandwich that tasted so good.”
Otto waved at her slightly awkwardly, carrot stick in hand, as if dismissing her praise. He looked pleased, though. They ate quietly for a few minutes, and Sarah savored each bite. Living with Otto in his beautiful, animal-filled home, eating his delicious food… It was easy to forget everything that had just happened with Aaron and Logan when everything else was so wonderful.
Careful, she warned herself. Sarah knew she couldn’t fall into believing this peaceful fairy-tale existence could last. The most she could hope for was that Aaron would be locked up for a very long time. If not, and he was able to get her back, he’d never give her another chance to escape.
* * *
Sarah huddled deeper in her new coat. The sky was gray, and the wind was picking up, sweeping down the north mountain face and cutting across Otto’s property. He’d crashed after lunch and headed for bed. She’d felt guilty for keeping him up. She’d forgotten that, while she’d managed to grab some sleep between feedings, Otto had worked all night. Sarah had considered taking a nap, but she’d felt too wired. With the terrifying encounter with Aaron, and revealing why she was in Monroe, and moving to Otto’s, and the kiss—and then the lack of discussion about the kiss, her brain was still spinning. She knew that sleep would be impossible.
Otto had told her to feel free to explore his house while he slept, but doing that felt intrusive and strange. Instead, Sarah had put on her new outerwear and wandered outside.
As she looked at the rocky slopes circling the house, Sarah shivered. There was something watchful about those towering cliffs. Even though she knew it was her imagination, goose bumps prickled her skin. Without Otto there, she felt very alone. Everything was too quiet, except for the rising and falling hum of the wind.
Ducking her face, Sarah hurried toward the barn. She tried to push away the uneasy feeling of strange and hostile eyes on her, but it still lurked in the back of her mind. Anyone could be out there, watching her. Maybe Logan hadn’t gone far. As much as she believed that he’d save himself before he’d obsess about her, she still felt…unsettled.
It was a relief to reach the barn door, not only to be sheltered from the wind, but also to be hidden from spying eyes. She hurried to latch the door behind her, locating the handle by feel, since her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dim interior yet. It smelled of hay and grain, and Sarah smiled. Those were good scents, ones that reminded her of the rare happy times in her childhood when she’d helped Chester with the horses.
The single large horse stall was empty, the barn appearing to serve more for storage than for housing animals at the moment. There were various enclosures, made with different fencing and configurations. Sarah examined them, wondering what rescue animal Otto had housed in each one. As she moved around the space, the floor creaked under her weight, and she remembered the secret tunnel that Otto had said led to the barn. She searched but couldn’t find the entrance to it.
Sarah left the barn through a door on the opposite side from the one she’d entered, and the wind immediately hit her hard. Her eyes watered from the blast, and she turned her face away as she hurried around the corner of the building. Her blurry eyes made it hard to see where she was going, and Sarah blinked away the wind-burned tears as she ducked into the three-sided run-in shed attached to the side of the barn.
She halted abruptly when she came face-to-face with a startled horse. Bean tossed his head high and blew a loud, nervous breath through his nostrils. Hortense started at the sound. Once she saw Sarah, the goat ambled over to check her hands and pockets for treats.
“Sorry, Hortense,” Sarah said quietly, offering both hands palms up. “I’ll bring you something next time.” Hortense investigated her fingers thoroughly, as if Sarah were a magician who could make carrot chunks appear out of nowhere. Once the goat had decided that Sarah was of no use as a vending machine, she wandered back to her original spot on the other side of the shelter.
Bean had watched the interaction with wary eyes, although he hadn’t bolted for the pasture, as Sarah had suspected he would. Instead, his head came down slowly. His legs were splayed slightly, frozen in place but ready to take off at a second’s notice if she made any move that was even slightly threatening.
“Hey, Bean.” She kept her voice low and soft, trying to channel Otto’s calm manner. “I heard about your experience. I’m from Texas, so I’ve seen some of those wild boars, and I don’t blame you for being freaked out of your mind. I mean, if they were living right next to me, I know I’d be completely terrified.”
He huffed out another breath, but it wasn’t as loud or tense as his first one.
“I’ve got to tell you something, Bean,” Sarah continued, taking heart in the fact that he didn’t go tearing across the pasture. “You’ve lucked out here. With Otto, you’ll get nothing but kindness. Oh, and good food—you’ll get fed really well. I’m sure you’re more interested in hay and grain and maybe peppermint candy, but Otto makes a mean sandwich, too.”
Although the wrinkles over his eyes showed that he was still anxious, his head came down another few inches as she spoke. Encouraged, Sarah kept talking.
“He’s a really good kisser, too. I mean, I’m not that experienced—trying to date anyone when Jeb was always lurking in the background was not ea
sy—but I’m still smart enough to know a good kisser when I run into one…with my lips.” She giggled, and Bean jerked back, startled. “Sorry. Bad joke, I know. Anyway, Otto is incredible. I completely forgot about everything while we were kissing. All we needed was a romantic soundtrack playing in the background, and it could’ve been something from a movie. It was amazing.” She paused, and Bean breathed through widened nostrils. “There’s just one thing.”
The wind howled louder, an eddy sweeping into the run-in shelter, tossing bits of hay and grit at Sarah. She twisted away, screwing her eyes shut, until it subsided and she wasn’t being sandblasted any longer. When she opened her eyes, she fully expected Bean to be gone, spooked by her sudden twist away from the pounding wind, but he was still standing in the same place, watching her with a mix of curiosity and wariness.
“So, we kissed, right?” Bean flicked an ear forward and then to the side. “I know, I already told you that part. Anyway, after that, he didn’t say anything. It was like it never happened, except that my brain kept replaying it, so I’m sure I sounded like an idiot during lunch when I kept missing his questions and zoning out of the conversation. Is that normal, though? To kiss and then ignore it? I don’t want to have a full postmortem or anything, but a mention would’ve been nice. More kissing would’ve been even nicer.”
Bean studied her, his eyes still wide but missing the ring of white they’d had when she’d first startled him.
“You’re a very good listener, Bean.” Sarah was tempted to reach out to pat him, but she didn’t want to scare him off. “I’m sorry for being whiny. With everything happening with Aaron, I shouldn’t be obsessing over a kiss. I’ll stop now. If something happens with Otto, then it happens. I’m not going to build up my hopes, though, especially since I’ll be leaving town eventually. I’ll just enjoy being with him while I can. Sound like a plan?”
After eyeing her in silence for a long moment, Bean stretched out his neck. Sarah held her breath as the horse’s head got closer. Even though Otto had said that Bean was more timid than aggressive, Sarah still felt a twinge of worry. Horses were unpredictable. What if he was about to take a bite out of her middle?
