Page 33 of Survive the Night
A tap on the door made her spin around. “Yes?” she said tentatively. The knock had reminded her of Aaron’s appearance on Jules’s front porch that morning.
“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.”
