Survive the Night

by Katie Ruggle

  “I know.”

  He still looked concerned, so Sarah caught his hand and squeezed it.

  “I know,” she repeated, meeting his gaze evenly so he would understand that she was serious, that she wasn’t just blowing off his warning. “I can see it.”

  “See it?” His fingers closed around hers, and she marveled at his gentleness. It was such a contrast to how rough his skin was and how large his hands were. They could crush hers, but she trusted that they never would.

  “You bottle-feed puppies.”

  He paused, as if waiting for her to continue. “So?”

  “Your skittish horse approaches you. Your retired K9 partner loves you. You climbed a collapsing windmill to rescue Dee’s cat. Your human cop partners would die for you. Even Sam is comfortable around you, and from what I’ve seen, he’s not comfortable around anyone.”

  Still he waited, looking at her without comprehension.

  “I know when people are cold and hard.” Her voice shook a little. “You, Otto, are not cold or hard. Your heart is huge and as squishy as a marshmallow.”

  “Squishy?” From his expression, Otto wasn’t sure how to take that. Sarah had to laugh at his crinkled nose.

  “It’s a good thing.” Feeling enormously brave, she leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth. The roughness of his stubble contrasted with the surprising softness of his lips, and she lingered there for a moment, lightly exploring. When she finally pulled away, his eyes had gone gas-flame hot again.

  Otto slid a hand over the side of her neck and under her hair to cup her nape. As he leaned forward, her eyelids closed, her breathing speeding up in anticipation of his kiss. Kissing Otto was her favorite thing in her new life, and that was saying something, because she loved many, many things about her newly discovered freedom. His lips brushed her, touching the right corner of her mouth and then the left. Even those tiny kisses made heat blaze through her, as his gentleness created a softer—yet no less addicting—warmth.

  He increased the pressure, deepening the kiss, and she leaned in to him, her hands going up to clutch his shoulders. She couldn’t get close enough. Her hands slid up his neck and over his head, and she marveled at the silky softness of his hair, despite the short length. Soon, however, his kiss took over her thoughts, and she could only concentrate on how amazing his mouth felt on hers.

  “Otto.” She somehow managed to pull back just far enough to speak. “I want—”

  Something pressed against the side of her calf.

  Sarah jumped with a shocked yelp. As she turned her head to see what had just touched her, Otto made a surprised sound.

  A pit bull–type dog was crouched next to her, huddled against the hay bale, her blocky head tucked behind Sarah’s legs. “Hey,” she said softly, slowly reaching toward the dog’s ears. “You must be Xena.”

  Her fingers touched the dog’s head, felt how much Xena was trembling, and her heart broke. Sarah knew what it was like to be that scared. Twisting around, she carefully lowered herself so she was sitting on the ground next to the dog. Xena turned her head and laid her muzzle on Sarah’s thigh.

  “Poor baby,” she crooned, stroking the velvet ears, her fingers tracing the bumps of the dog’s scars. Sarah wasn’t sure how long they sat there before Otto broke the silence.

  “Let’s introduce her to Mort,” he said quietly, standing up. Xena eyed him warily, although she didn’t move her head off Sarah’s leg. Otto handed Sarah a leash, and she clipped it on Xena’s collar.

  “Come on, sweet girl.” Lifting the dog’s heavy head off her leg, Sarah got slowly to her feet. “You’ll like the house better than this chilly barn.” Now that she was moving again, Sarah realized exactly how cold and stiff she’d gotten sitting on the hay and the ground.

  As they made their way toward the barn door, Xena moving low to the ground with her tail tucked tightly, Otto put a hand lightly on Sarah’s back. “Impressive,” he said quietly. “She’s never reacted like that to anyone else.”

  Sarah smiled, but it quickly dropped away. She had a feeling that Xena had approached her because they were common souls—both had been victims; both had needed to be rescued.

  She sent a quick glance at Otto. They’d survived, though—survived and found this marshmallow-hearted man and his beautiful, safe home and his sandwiches and his secure bunker. And freedom. Freedom no one was ever going to take from them. Reaching down, she gave Xena’s ears another rub.

  They were both going to be fine.

  Chapter 12

  Mort had greeted the new arrival with a casual wag of his tail before stretching out on his heat vent again, while Bob had taken a more cautious approach, monitoring the situation from his perch on top of the refrigerator. Xena stayed close to Sarah’s legs until she’d discovered a secure spot in the living room between the couch and the wall.

  Sarah stood by the sofa, uncertain. “Should I try to coax her out?”

  “No.” Otto placed a hand on her back, and she marveled at how big it was. Otto’s size should probably make her nervous, but it didn’t. Not at all. Her father hadn’t been a big guy—neither was her brother—and they’d managed to hurt her. It wasn’t the size or the strength, but the intent. “She’s had a stressful day. Let her have some time alone.”

  “Okay.” Sarah didn’t move, though, not wanting Otto to drop his hand. His touch was like water to a neglected houseplant. She sucked up everything he gave her and wanted more. They were both still for a few moments, but Sarah knew she couldn’t just continue to stare at Otto’s couch all day, mentally begging him to keep touching her. Still, though, she couldn’t bring herself to be the one who broke the spell.

  When Otto’s hand slipped down her back and then fell away, she sighed silently in disappointment. “I should probably try to sleep,” he said.

  “Oh! That’s right! I’m sorry for keeping you up.” She snuck a glance at his profile to find him still staring at the sofa. Sarah felt a little guilty. The poor guy worked all night. He was probably exhausted, and she…well, she really didn’t want him to go to sleep. Going to bed she was okay with, as long as he brought her along.

  She blushed at the thought and didn’t look away in time. He turned his head, catching her mid-stare.

  Their gazes caught and locked together. “It’ll be hard to sleep now.” His voice was gritty, and his blue eyes were as hot as the gas flames they resembled.

  She couldn’t speak, couldn’t get actual words to leave her mouth. All she could do was make a wordless, inquiring sound that squeaked at the end. Sarah resisted the urge to close her eyes in despair at her absolute lack of game. She was, and would always be, a hopeless dork.

  By the way he was looking at her, though, that didn’t seem to matter to Otto. “If I try, I’ll just lie awake, thinking about you.”

  Sarah could only stare as her heart pounded and a whole flock of fluttery birds danced around in her stomach. Had he really said that? It was as if her fairy godmother had told Sarah to dream up the perfect man, waved a wand, and created Otto out of a redwood tree or something. “You’re so perfect,” she said, amazed she was able to breathe, much less talk.

  “No.” He blushed—he actually blushed—just proving her words all over again. “I’m not.”

  Instead of arguing, Sarah just enjoyed his rapt attention and being able to look at him as much as she wanted without seeming weird. It was blissful to be able to wallow in all things Otto.

  Then he made it even better. Bringing his hands to her face, he leaned down and kissed her.

  It was different from the other kisses. Right away, he took over. It was rough without being scary, and hard without being painful. He nipped at her bottom lip, making her gasp at the excited thrill that zipped through her body, and then he met her tongue with his own. Rather than intimidating her, though, his aggressive kiss freed her. She could respond as
wildly as she wanted, because he was just as out of control as she was.

  His hands slipped down her arms, landed on her hips, and then skimmed up her sides, burrowing beneath her layers. Her whole body lit up with heat and pleasure, everything in her straining toward where he touched her. She had to touch him in return. Sliding her hands up his arms, she didn’t get any farther than his shoulders. His mouth worked against hers, and she clutched at him, holding on so she didn’t melt into a puddle on the floor or float toward the ceiling. As the kiss turned from hungry to greedy and then back to tender, Sarah just knew: Otto was the one for her. Any other man would pale in comparison to his gentle strength and kindness, not to mention how he erased the rest of the world with one look.

  It wasn’t that simple, though—not for her. She couldn’t get too attached to Monroe and her new friends and Otto—especially Otto. His rough palms smoothed up her sides as he kissed her more deeply, and she had the sinking feeling that it was too late. She was already attached.

  She pulled back slightly, and he followed, seeking out her lips again when she withdrew. With a breathless laugh, she put a hand on his chest, putting a couple of inches between them.

  “I don’t want to stop—I mean, I really, really don’t want to stop—but Xena’s going to think we’re exhibitionists.”

  He laughed softly, his breath hitting her lips. Suddenly, she didn’t care if they were being watched. Sarah just wanted to kiss him again. When she leaned in, he lifted her by the waist and turned her in a half circle. The sudden movement made her give a laughing yelp and grab his shoulders. “Should we go upstairs?” he asked. “Xena won’t be able to watch us up there.”

  Sarah was wonderfully, horribly tempted. You’re leaving soon, the stern voice in her head warned, and her amusement died. The closer you get to him, the harder it will be. It was already going to be agonizing, and all they’d done so far was kiss. She needed to protect herself, but she felt so good when she was around him—talking to him, watching him, kissing him…

  With a sigh that turned into a groan, she took a step back, her hands dropping to her sides. It took him several seconds to release her, but it wasn’t in a frightening way. His hands just lingered, as if reluctant to lose contact with her skin.

  “You should sleep.”

  “Yes.” He didn’t sound excited about the prospect, and his gaze ran over her hungrily, as if he was thinking about snatching her up and carrying her to his bedroom. Excitement at the thought made her skin prickle, and she shivered in a way that had nothing to do with cold. It was tempting—so tempting—but the nagging voice in her head wouldn’t stop reminding her of the heartache to come if she let herself be weak. “Join me?”

  The words jolted through her, and she took a step closer to him before she caught herself. “I want to, but I shouldn’t. I don’t want to start something I can’t finish.” His brows drew together in a puzzled frown. “I mean, Monroe can only be a temporary safe house.” Otto flinched, and she felt like a monster. “If I have to run again…” The thought was too terrible to finish out loud.

  “Your brother’s locked up,” he said. “The judge denied bail, and the FBI will be picking him up later this week, as soon as the transfer paperwork goes through. He can’t get to you.”

  “What if he gets off, though? What if he bribes the next judge or pays someone to grab me? Aaron’s never been a good loser. I can’t get comfortable here, because Aaron will ruin it for me. He always ruins everything.”

  Otto reached out, slow and easy, to cup her face again. “Just come sleep with me. Only sleep.” He gave her a tiny smile, but his eyes were guarded. “I’ll rest better knowing you’re safe next to me.”

  She had to say no. She had to resist. “Okay.” Ugh. She was such a soft touch. There was no way she could say no to Otto, not when he was holding her face so gently and looking at her so sweetly. “Yes.”

  They made their way up to the second floor quietly. Even though Otto had specified that they’d only be sleeping, bubbling tension crept up Sarah’s spine. What if she couldn’t hold back any longer and hurled herself onto his unconscious body? Her willpower seemed to be as strong as a bowl of overcooked oatmeal around him.

  Automatically, she moved toward the guest bedroom where she’d been sleeping, but he took her hand and tugged her through the doorway across the hall. She looked around, not having seen his bedroom yet. It was just like him—big, but warm and cozy and a little old-fashioned. The bed was huge.

  Wordlessly, he handed her a T-shirt before disappearing into the bathroom. She quickly changed, hugging the soft cotton against her and wallowing in the scent. It was a clean shirt, she could tell, but it still smelled like his detergent. As he walked back into the bedroom, she smiled at him, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

  “Okay?” she asked, her grin starting to fade with concern.

  “Yes.” He started moving again, right toward her. She held her breath as he grew closer and closer, until he finally slid past her and walked to the enormous bed. Pulling down the covers, he stepped back and gestured for her to climb in first.

  Her entire body heated from nerves and embarrassment and need as she slid into his bed—Otto’s bed. The sheets were flannel and wonderfully soft, a small part of her noticed, even while the rest of her brain was occupied with watching Otto, dressed only in a T-shirt and loose exercise pants, get into bed next to her.

  I’m in bed with Otto, she thought, delighted even as the voice in her head scolded her, telling her it was a mistake, that it was the first step on a slippery slope that ended in tears, but she tuned it out. I’ll give myself this, she decided, turning onto her side so she faced Otto. Tomorrow, I’ll be smart.

  Otto smiled at her, and everything inside her loosened and warmed. His hand came up to stroke her cheek briefly. When he started to withdraw, Sarah grabbed his hand. Lacing her fingers with his, she tucked their conjoined hands under her chin, making him smile again. He kept his gaze on her until his eyes closed and his breath slowed and deepened.

  Sarah held his hand tightly as she watched him sleep. Tiredness pulled at her, tempting her to close her eyes, but this was too precious. She wasn’t about to waste even a second of it.

  * * *

  The night shift had been hellish. Between a domestic call, a car accident, and a propane leak, Otto had been running at full speed for twelve hours. On the bright side, no one had been hurt, the cars ended up with only minor damage, and nothing exploded, but Otto was bone-tired—too tired to even curse the chief for stealing away so many officers.

  Despite the busy night, Otto hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Sarah. She’d told him flat-out that she was leaving eventually. How could he expect her to stay? Monroe—especially in the winter—was dull and isolated. Just because he considered it home didn’t mean that the woman he was fascinated with would want to stay. He kept telling himself to enjoy the time he had with her and quit thinking about how empty he’d feel when she was gone.

  Finally, his shift ended, and he hurried home, pushing his speed, even around the hairpin turns. As he hurried up the stairs, he imagined finding her in his room, in his bed, and the mental image made him rush even faster. As he moved through the doorway, his smile faded. No one was there. Returning to the hall, he glanced in the guest room and saw it was empty, as well. Nerves started to buzz deep in his gut as he quickly checked the house. All of her things were still there, so she hadn’t left yet—at least not voluntarily.

  That thought had him tensing, adrenaline shooting through him as if preparing him to hunt down the person who’d snatched Sarah out of her bed and her new home. He rushed through the living room, peering through the windows to see if he could see her outside. It was still really early, but maybe she couldn’t sleep.

  His gaze fell on the coat closet leading to the bunker, and his pulse slowed slightly. Hurrying into the closet, he opened the door in
the back wall and then took the stairs four at a time. As soon as he spotted her, curled on one of the bunks, surrounded by his animals, all the air left him in a relieved rush.

  Otto stared for a few moments before he started to smile. Sarah was curled up on her side, sleeping on one third of the cot, with Mort, Xena, and Bob taking up the other two-thirds. Mort and Bob opened their eyes briefly, saw it was Otto, and then closed them again. Xena, on the other hand, watched him warily from where she was curled up behind Sarah’s knees.

  He had to admit that he was a little bothered that Xena had bonded so quickly to Sarah. It was a good thing she had, and Otto tried to brush off his slight jealousy, but it was hard when he thought about all those hours feeding the scared dog treats at Nan’s. Xena gave a slight huff, as if she could read his thoughts and was laughing at his pettiness.

  Otto checked on Sarah, wondering if the dog had disturbed her, but she was still solidly sleeping, her breathing deep and even, and her hair falling across her face. He hated to wake her, but he wanted her to know he was home. The night, as busy as it had been, had also felt incredibly long, with a rerun of the previous afternoon replaying over and over in his head. He was antsy to talk to her, to see how she was. Maybe she’d offer to make breakfast again. Yesterday’s breakfast burritos had been incredible. Usually, when he was on night shift, he wasn’t motivated to cook when he got home. He’d just grab something, do animal chores, and then crash in front of the TV until he went to bed.

  With Sarah there, though, he was hopped up on adrenaline. He couldn’t get their kisses out of his head, and he grinned every time he thought about her. The one good thing about being short-staffed at the station was that, if they’d been there, the other officers would’ve been mocking him relentlessly about his cheerfulness.

  It wasn’t just the attraction. Having someone else at his house was unexpectedly nice. Otto hadn’t realized just how depressing coming home to an empty-except-for-animals house had been. It would be hard once she left. His stomach dropped at the thought, and he instantly chided himself. He couldn’t get attached—well, more attached. She wouldn’t be staying with him for long, and then he’d be alone again. That seemed to be the pattern of his life—people and animals stayed for a while, and then they left.