Survive the Night

by Katie Ruggle

  Moving over to the edge of the roof, he swung his legs off the side and lowered himself down. Once again, he made it look so effortless that Sarah felt a little silly asking for help. She followed, turning onto her belly and letting her legs slide over the edge. His hands steadied her, sliding from her calves to her thighs and then gripping her waist. It was a strange sensation, his firm grip both comforting and slightly dizzying, and it made her pause.

  “I’ve got you,” he said in his low, steady way, his fingers wrapped almost all the way around her middle.

  It was crazy to trust this stranger—this cop—but Sarah couldn’t help herself. Just from their short conversation, her gut told her that he was nothing like Aaron or Logan or any of the petty, vicious people who had populated her previous life. Maybe he was conning her, but Sarah suspected he was honestly good.

  Closing her eyes, she let go of the roof. Just as he’d promised, Otto carefully lowered her down. Even after her feet were securely on the ground and he’d released her, Sarah could still feel the warm impression of his hands pressing into her skin.

  “Would you like a ride home?” he asked, and she realized that she’d been staring at him.

  Ripping her gaze from his face, she glanced around. “I think I’ll finish my walk. It looks like the road is elk-free. They probably went to the diner for breakfast.”

  That almost-smile came and went quickly, but it still gave Sarah a charge that she’d caused it. As she started to walk back toward Jules’s driveway, she expected to hear the squad car engine roar to life, but the morning stayed quiet. The wind had dropped to a gentle breeze, and the rising sun warmed her. When she reached the turnoff for her driveway, she couldn’t resist—she glanced behind her.

  Otto was still parked by the carport. She wondered if he was watching to make sure that she made it home safely. The thought gave her a warm thrill, but she quickly quashed it. Monroe was just a temporary stop on her road to freedom. She needed to focus on building her new life, not on a Viking–lumberjack cop with steady blue eyes and huge, warm hands.

  At the memory of his firm grip, another frisson of excitement whirled through her. This time, she let it stay. She’d enjoy it for a few moments, she promised herself, but then she would do her best to avoid Officer Otto Gunnersen. With a final glance at the surprisingly intriguing man behind her, she strode up the rutted dirt driveway, smiling.

  Chapter 6

  “Can’t decide?” Jules asked.

  “No.” Sarah looked back and forth between the two pairs of winter boots. “They’re both so amazing.”

  Grace chuckled, but her laughter died as she looked at Sarah. “Oh. You’re serious.”

  “Yes.” Grace’s dismayed expression didn’t bother Sarah. Even though she knew they weren’t fashionable, Sarah still loved the boots. They were functional and soft inside and would keep her feet warm in the snow. The thought of snow gave her a thrill. The ground was still uncovered now, but her new housemates had assured her that snow was expected any day. The boots, the idea of snow, even her new name—everything was so different from her life under her family’s thumb.

  She was in Colorado now, and she was free.

  “Get the green ones,” Tio offered, and Sarah looked at him in surprise. Of all of her six shopping companions, she’d thought that he’d be the least likely to offer fashion advice—well, maybe least likely after Sam.

  “The green?” She looked back and forth between the pairs again. Now that she was able to make choices, she found the process to be wonderful but hard. She didn’t trust herself, even with the simplest decisions.

  “Yes. The green ones don’t have laces, so you won’t get snow or water in them.”

  “Oh!” Sarah put the blue boots back on the shelf. “That makes sense. Thank you, Tio.”

  As Sarah carefully placed her chosen boots back in their oversized box, Grace gave her a teasing nudge. “We’re going to have to go to Denver and do some real shopping.”

  “Sure.” Sarah forced a smile but cringed inwardly. Monroe felt like a safe haven. She really didn’t want to leave yet, especially to go to a big city like Denver.

  As if she could read Sarah’s mind, Jules frowned and said in a quiet voice, “It’s too early for that. It’d be safer to shop online right now.”

  “Right.” Grace wrapped an arm around Sarah and gave her a side hug. “Sorry. I forgot.”

  “That’s okay.” Now that the threat of having to show her face in Denver was off the table, Sarah’s smile felt more genuine. “Can we look at coats next?”

  Jules’s siblings headed for the small sporting goods section as Sarah, Grace, and Jules moved toward women’s outerwear. As she walked through the aisles, Sarah knew she was beaming like an idiot. She couldn’t help it. This place was amazing. It was part farm supply, part hardware store, part department store. According to Jules, it was one of the few businesses in Monroe that stayed open all year round. Most of the shops and services closed for the winter.

  They cut through a car parts aisle. Rounding the corner, Sarah sucked in a sharp breath.

  “What?” Jules grabbed her arm and yanked her back into the aisle they’d just left. Grace followed, her expression concerned. “Is it someone you know? Do we need to go out the back?”

  “No,” Sarah said hastily, embarrassed by her overreaction. “Sorry. I just saw…” Otto. The name rang in her head, but she didn’t want to admit that she remembered it. She hadn’t shared the details of her eventful morning walk three days earlier. Since Grace and Jules weren’t aware of the garage roof conversation, Sarah knowing Otto’s name after so brief an introduction seemed like evidence of her budding, illogical crush. Her cheeks got hot, but she tried very hard to ignore that she was blushing—and the reason for her red face. “I just saw that cop I met last week. It was dumb. I just overreacted.”

  “Otto?” Grace asked, and Sarah nodded, feeling her face heat even more at the sound of his name. Seriously, something was wrong with her. “Oh, he’s harmless. Really. I mean, so are Hugh and Theo, but they just come off a little more…harshly?” Grace gave Jules a help me look before turning back to Sarah. “You don’t need to be afraid of any of the cops here. We just didn’t want to overwhelm you by introducing you to all of them. They can be…” She looked at Jules again.

  “Intimidating,” Jules supplied helpfully, and Grace nodded. “Otto really is the easiest to get along with of all three of them. You’ll love him once you get to know him.” Sarah tried not to grimace at the phrasing. She couldn’t admit that was why she was so nervous around Otto. The big cop was already in her thoughts much too often, and they’d exchanged just a few words. If she got to know him, she had a feeling she’d be in serious trouble.

  Linking arms with Sarah, Grace started to lead her out of the aisle. Even though she was freaking out at the thought of talking with Otto again, Sarah tried to hide it. Her feet wanted to drag, but she forced her body to cooperate. She’d only known Grace and Jules a week, and they’d been nicer to her than anyone she’d ever known before. She didn’t want to admit her weird issues to them…not yet, at least.

  “Otto!” Jules forged ahead, waving as she hurried over to the cop. He gave her a small smile before looking past her. When his gaze locked on Sarah, his expression stilled.

  What does that mean? Why is he looking at me like that? she asked herself frantically. Unfortunately, she didn’t have an answer. Her previous life had kept her isolated, her social interactions limited to employees and business associates of first her father and then her brother. Sarah wasn’t sure how to read the big, blond cop, but she guessed that the frozen look was not a good sign.

  He didn’t look away as they approached. Sarah couldn’t hold his gaze and dropped her eyes to the floor. It was impossible not to look at him, though, and she kept darting furtive glances in his direction. His hair was nearly white-blond, cut short in a n
o-nonsense style. He wasn’t just a Viking lumberjack; he was like a Viking and a lumberjack had a baby, and that baby grew up to serve in the army and then become a Monroe police officer.

  “Milk replacer? What orphans are you feeding now?” Jules asked, breaking what was turning into another awkward silence.

  He finally looked away from Sarah to focus on Jules. “Puppies. Curtis Trammel’s shepherd was hit by a car.”

  “He brought them to you?” Before he answered, Grace spoke again. “Of course he did. You’re the Dr. Dolittle around here, after all.”

  Otto gave an uncomfortable half shrug, but Sarah had stopped pretending not to stare at him. He was a Viking lumberjack cop who bottle-fed orphaned puppies? If he’d spent years trying to think of the most effective punch to the ovaries, he couldn’t have come up with a better plan.

  “Juju!” Ty called from across the store. “We’re going to get these guns, okay?”

  “What? What guns? No, not okay.” Jules immediately charged toward the sporting goods section.

  Grace grinned. Following after a stressed-looking Jules, she said over her shoulder, “This should be good. They probably want to mount them on their homemade drone.”

  The two women disappeared around the corner of an aisle, and the realization hit Sarah—she and Otto were alone. Together. Sure, they weren’t really alone, since it was a public place with several people, including children, nearby, but…still. Alone. Together. Again. Her scalp prickled with sweat.

  She tried desperately to think of something to talk about, but her mind was blank. There wasn’t a nearby herd of elk to supply a handy topic of conversation. It had been the same every time they’d met. Otto seemed to be a huge walking magnet, wiping her brain’s hard drive whenever he got near. “Um…how many puppies?”

  He just stared at her, and uncertainty started to set in. Her question had made sense, hadn’t it? Maybe she should’ve clarified. But Sarah was afraid that, if she spoke again, she’d rush into a waterfall of babbly explanation, and that would just make her seem even more unbalanced.

  “Your mouth…” He trailed off, his eyes fixed on her lips.

  “My mouth…?” she echoed, and then horror hit her. There had to be something on her mouth. They had all just eaten lunch at the VFW-turned-diner where Jules worked. Was there something green and slimy in her teeth? Did she have residual barbeque sauce on her face? If so, she was going to kill Jules, Grace, and every last one of the kids for not telling her before she came face-to-face with a lumberjack Viking puppy rescuer. Sarah wiped frantically at her lips, feeling her cheeks heat. “What about my mouth?”

  “It’s pretty.” His tanned face flushed to the color of brick. Abruptly, he turned and walked away.

  Sarah went still, her hand still over her lips. There was a strange feeling in her stomach. It wasn’t the anxious dread she was used to, though. This was more of a hopeful fluttering, a funny little squeeze of happiness. Dropping her hand to her side, she smiled at Otto’s broad, quickly departing back.

  He thinks I’m pretty.

  * * *

  Your mouth is pretty?! Otto groaned. The only thing that kept him from thumping his forehead against the steering wheel of his pickup was the fact that driving on the curvy mountain roads took focus, especially in the predawn darkness. He’d meant to tell her she had a nice smile, but it had come out so, so, so wrong. Of all the things he could’ve said, he’d chosen a line from a horror movie? From the villain in a horror movie? What was wrong with him?

  He knew perfectly well what was wrong with him. Whenever he found a woman attractive, he turned into a bumbling thirteen-year-old. No, that wasn’t right. Most thirteen-year-olds had more game than Otto did. For three days now, his idiotic statement had been running through his head, and he’d cursed himself out every single time. He’d managed to speak and not embarrass himself the second time they’d met, when he’d helped her off the carport roof, but he hadn’t expected to see her at the store. It’d thrown him off guard. Still, why hadn’t he just asked her out or, at the very least, said something innocuous? She’d just asked him a question about the puppies, for Christ’s sake. It’d been a simple answer, too. All he needed to say was that there were four of them, and they could’ve continued having a perfectly normal, civil conversation.

  But no. Otto had to pull out the creepiest, most unnerving line possible instead. “Four,” he muttered, pulling into the VFW-turned-diner—otherwise known as the viner—parking lot. “That’s all you would’ve had to say. Four. It’s one syllable, you moron.”

  Scrubbing a hand over his head, Otto took a deep breath. He had to let it go. Dwelling on it was just making him crazy and giving him a stomachache. Letting out all the air in his lungs, he reached for the door handle. So he’d ruined any possibility of a chance with a woman he was hugely attracted to, all in four words. Things could be worse.

  No. He couldn’t think of how things could be worse, unless he had accidentally dowsed her in chemical spray or tased her or something.

  With a quiet groan, he got out of his pickup and walked toward the viner entrance. Theo and Hugh were already there, Otto noticed. Both of their K9s, Viggy and Lexi, barked at him from their respective vehicles, and he gave them a small wave. He walked past Theo’s squad car, going out of his way to check on Viggy. The dog had been in a rough way just a few months ago, right after his former partner, Officer Don Baker, had committed suicide. The dog had lost all of his confidence, and it didn’t help that his new partner, Theo, had been wrecked by grief. The two were coming along, though, and the dog had been making huge strides.

  Even now, Viggy was standing up in the back seat, his tail waving slightly as he recognized Otto. He looked like a different dog from the huddled mess he’d been just a couple of months ago. It gave Otto hope for Xena, the dog he was currently attempting to rehabilitate. They still had a long way to go, though, and his lieutenant was making noises about buying a trained K9 for the department—a K9 that would be Otto’s new partner. His last K9 was retired and living a life of luxury chasing rabbits on Otto’s ranch.

  Breaking out of his thoughts, Otto strode to the viner entrance. Even at that early hour, it was starting to fill up with customers. Giving Jules a nod of greeting, he made his way to the table that had become their usual meeting spot after the diner had been blown up two months ago.

  Hugh saw him and swiveled around, attempting to prop his leg on the chair next to him, but Otto was already there, sliding into the seat.

  “Quit swinging your leg around,” Otto grumbled, flipping his coffee mug right side up. “It’ll never heal if you keep abusing it.”

  “I’m not abusing my leg. You’re thinking of another body part.” Waggling his eyebrows comically, Hugh returned his foot to the chair across from him.

  Otto didn’t laugh. “Your broken arm?”

  “No, my…” Hugh’s reply trailed off as Otto gave him a stern look. “You know, I liked it better when you were obsessing over Theo, rather than me.”

  “I didn’t.” Theo leaned back in his chair, his normally severe expression amused.

  “Maybe if you’d quit getting shot and breaking bones, then I could ‘obsess’ less,” Otto suggested. Sometimes he felt like the ground crew for two reckless acrobats, running around trying to catch them before they hit the ground.

  Jules hurried over to their table and poured him some coffee. “How are you, Otto?”

  He couldn’t honestly say “good,” since he was living in a hot swamp of still-fresh humiliation after his last encounter with Sarah, plus he’d had to wake up every three hours to bottle-feed puppies, but any response other than “fine” would awaken Jules’s curiosity, and he didn’t want to deal with the interrogation that would follow. Instead, he raised a shoulder and grunted.

  “Uh-oh,” Jules said, meeting Theo’s gaze. The two exchanged a look that Otto knew boded poorly
for him. “There’s a story here. Hang on. Let me get the Lynches their breakfast platters, and then I’ll be back to hear the whole thing.”

  “There is no ‘whole thing,’” Otto protested, but Jules was already gone. From Hugh’s laughter, his huffy mood had disappeared as well.

  Theo leaned toward them. “Before she gets back, what did you learn?”

  “About what?” Otto’s brain felt foggy from lack of sleep.

  “The newest houseguest,” Hugh prodded. “We haven’t had a chance to talk about it yet, and Grace still won’t let me near her. You’re the only one with access. Did you manage to get a look at her driver’s license?”

  It seemed like he couldn’t escape from reminders of Sarah. A fresh wave of humiliation flooded him. “No.” Otto didn’t just mean he didn’t see her license; he meant that there’d be no discussion about Sarah…not until he could forget what he’d said, which probably meant they could never talk about her. Otto would be okay with that.

  “You didn’t?” Hugh sat back, wincing slightly and reaching his good arm to reposition his leg. “I knew I should’ve followed you up there, but Jules threatened my life if I did. What’s her last name?”

  Pressing his lips together, Otto gave a single, sharp shake of his head.

  “Are you blushing?” Hugh asked. “Holy monkey balls, you are! Why are you blushing, Ninja Paul Bunyan?”

  “I’m not.” Shit.

  “You are.” Theo eyed him from across the table. “Why?”

  “What did you do?” Hugh gave him a feigned look of horror, and Otto resisted the urge to punch him.

  “What could we have done?” he scoffed instead, staring down at his untouched coffee. “It was two minutes. Grace was there.”

  Theo was still studying him. “You like her?”

  Opening his mouth to deny it, to say he felt nothing, Otto found he couldn’t get the words out. Instead, he gave the same half-assed shrug he’d offered earlier.