Page 41 of Survive the Night
“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.
