Winter Igniting

  He jerked hard and erupted inside the condom.

  And then he stilled.

  She panted against him, kissing his neck and up his jawline. Amazing. Absolutely amazing.

  He rolled over and held her tightly, and only then did she realize that she’d never let go of him. Her nails dug even farther into his skin. She held him as tightly as she could…because she didn’t want to let him go.

  Now, what was she going to do?

  24

  She keeps trying to keep me at arm’s length. For the first time in my life, that’s not where I want to be with a woman. This is crazy.

  —Damon Winter, Journal

  Damon awoke to a very soft hand stroking his chest. April. He’d know her touch and sweet scent anywhere. He opened his eyes to a dimly lit room. It had to be around dawn, and the air was still somewhat cool. He lay on his back with the sheet shoved down to his waist, and she lay on her side, her fingers tapping across his skin. “Morning.”

  “Morning.” She stretched and moaned, the sound lazy and fulfilled. “Sorry to wake you.”

  If she were going to hit him with the friends speech again, he’d lose his mind. “It’s okay. Why are you up?”

  “I naturally wake up early.” She blinked, her blue eyes focusing. “Was already playing with your hard chest before I fully awakened. It’s like you swallowed a plate of iron or something.”

  Now that was an alarm clock he’d love. “Don’t stop now.”

  She smiled, her cheeks a light pink, and her eyes still drowsy. “Three times last night, remember? I’m a bit sore.”

  He’d tried to be gentle, but it had been a passionate night. “I can do plenty with you without ramming my cock inside you,” he murmured.

  “The things you say.” The pink turned to a dusty rose. Making her blush was quickly becoming his favorite hobby. It was so easy to do, and she looked almost happy whenever she was trying to hide the reaction. “What’s your favorite color?” she asked.

  Ah. The getting-to-know-you-even-though-I-really-already-know-you phase. Damon thought about it. “Probably Viking blue. The color of my high school sports jerseys.”

  She reached a scar along his ribcage. “You’ve had some dangerous times. Knife?”

  Her touch was awakening all parts of him. “Nope. Old Man Tillman’s fence. My brother Danny bet me I couldn’t filch an apple from the tree in less than a minute.” He pushed her hair away from her stunning face, sinking into the soft blue of her eyes. “Your favorite color?”

  “Green. Reminds me of Ireland, although I’ve never been there.” She caressed down his arm and found another scar. “This one?”

  He glanced down. “My brother Alan’s baseball cleat. He slid into home, I blocked, and there you go. That one took five stitches. I think. He hit his head on a rock we’d forgotten to move, and he had seven. Lorded it over me for weeks.”

  She grinned and moved farther down to the divots on his hand. “Alan or Danny?”

  He glanced at the three decent-sized scars. “Robert. Middle brother. We were chopping wood…”

  She snorted. “Your mother must’ve been a saint with nerves of absolute steel.”

  “She was,” he agreed. “She also knew how to deal with four boys. If you weren’t bleeding to death or needing stitches, you grabbed a Band-Aid and went back to play or work.” God, he missed her. She would’ve liked April. A lot. “She once asked the doctor at the nearest emergency care unit if they had punch cards for free lattes after ten visits.”

  April chuckled. “Please tell me the bullet hole in your shoulder was from work and not playing with your brothers.”

  He rubbed the old wound. “Yep. First year on the job. When the call came in, all three of my brothers beat the ambulance to the scene. Can you believe that? Even Alan, and he wasn’t even a cop.” Damon sighed. He missed them. Bad.

  April tapped along his collarbone and frowned. “There’s a divot here. Break it?”

  “At least twice. I actually fell out of an apple tree trying to climb higher than Danny one time. Did it before falling.” Yeah. He always could climb higher than Dan.

  April shook her head, her smile thoughtful this time. “Did you know that the majority of the scars on your body are from living a happy childhood? Not from your job?”

  He actually did know that. Without that time and those memories, he’d be insane right now after so much pain and loss. Instead, he kept strong and forged on. His family would insist upon it. “How about you? Any scars?”

  “No. My childhood was decent in the foster care system, though. Met some real nice people. Just didn’t have a place to call my own.” She rubbed her nose. “Then when Don and I had Haylee, we had to grow up fast. I worked to help him through school, and when he opened his dental practice, I helped out there. But mostly, I was a stay-at-home mom.”

  Damon kissed her nose. He could see her baking cookies and helping with homework. “I bet you were good at it.”

  Her grin was shy. Sweet. “I was. Was the classroom mom, and softball team mom, and the PTA president.”

  He rubbed his hand down her arm. “I bet you were a sexy president.”

  She laughed, the sound relaxed for once. “I was a tyrant. I was the mom other parents ran from as fast as they could when it was time to sign up for volunteering for something. Bake sales, car washes, concession stands. I was brutal.”

  “I don’t believe that,” he murmured.

  She coughed. “I even had a clipboard with a metal pen I’d tap against it.” Her face colored. “I was ruthless.”

  He could just see her. “Sexy as hell, baby.” He’d give anything to see her with a clipboard, demanding that people step up and do a job. “I might have to drum up one of those around here. Would you tap a pencil against it and get all bossy?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Every time I try to get bossy with you, I end up over your shoulder.”

  “Exactly,” he said, feeling like a satisfied lion. “I like you there.” This was easy. Nice and calm and relaxing. Was it too easy? He’d promised to keep things casual, and this didn’t feel like that. This felt like…more. He banished the thoughts. “Favorite ice cream?”

  “Peanut butter and chocolate. You?” She traced circles on his chest.

  Her touch electrified him, and he shoved down the desire. This mellowness and togetherness was important, too. He wanted to know more about her. Everything. “Strawberry with chocolate chips on it.” Was ice cream a thing of the past? That idea sucked. “First crush?”

  “Bobby Jacobson in first grade. He had his own frog that he kept in his lunchbox.” Her eyes sparkled. “You?”

  “Keesha Malben in third grade. She wore dresses and no underwear.” He felt along April’s jaw. Her skin was unbelievably smooth. Next time he was out scouting, he’d look for lotion. The good kind for faces. His mama always had a different lotion for her face than her body. “Are you okay with our new paradigm?”

  She snorted. “That’s a big word for saying we’re having casual sex.”

  There wasn’t anything casual about the previous night, but if it helped her to keep from freaking out, she could label it any way she chose. “That wasn’t an answer.”

  “Oh. Yes, I’m okay.” She looked up to meet his gaze, her eyes the blue of the sky over the Pacific in spring. “I’m trying to keep it casual, but it’s easy to let feelings in. I get attached.”

  Was she warning him? That was beyond sweet. “I’m not going to hurt you, April.”

  She blinked. Once and then again. “I won’t hurt you either.”

  He hadn’t been worried about his own heart. Everything inside of him wanted to gather her close and protect her from this world. Keep her as his own. “I know.”

  She snuggled closer. “Why weren’t you married? You’re definitely a keeper.”

  He smiled and ran a hand through her long hair. “Didn’t think it was fair to anybody. With my job and life.”

  Her breath brushed his neck. “Gue
ss that hasn’t changed much.”

  No. Definitely not. He couldn’t ask anybody to be that strong for him. He was the tough one. “I always intended to slow down someday and then settle down.” Maybe as a detective. “But not until the far future. I’d just made SWAT when Scorpius started infecting everyone.”

  “SWAT?” She lifted her head and smiled. “Good for you. That’s incredible.”

  That simple acceptance hit him hard. Sweet and kind, his April. To understand what that had meant to him and to still congratulate him, even though the dream was long in the past… He kissed her nose. “We need to talk about the plan today with the Pure church.”

  That quickly, her brows drew down. “I already told you. I’m going alone.”

  Sweet and stubborn. Definitely made just for him. Things might be casual on the surface, but that’s not how this was going down. “Not a chance in hell, baby. Trust me.”

  25

  It’s getting harder and harder to separate my new job from my partner. Damon has a way of taking over even the oxygen around us. Why in the world do I like that so much?

  —April Snyder, Journal

  April tried to outwalk Damon down the street to the Pure apartment building, adjusting her backpack of notepads on her back. Obviously catching her thought, and not liking it, he took her hand. Or he was just being sweet. No. He seemed to read her mind, and he knew she was ticked, so he was holding her hand.

  She bit her lip to keep from snapping at him. Although a part of her was grateful she’d have backup inside. Just in case.

  He whistled a tune she didn’t recognize. Something upbeat and fun.

  She cleared her throat. “I wish you trusted me to do this right.”

  “I do trust you. It’s Pastor King and his flock I don’t trust.” Damon’s hand felt solid around hers. “I won’t get in your way, I promise. Would just rather not have to go through armed guards if I need to get to you.”

  Yeah, she could understand that.

  They reached the apartment building, and the guards with guns looked young. Maybe about eighteen.

  Damon released her hand and paused. “You two know how to shoot those?”

  The kid on the left stood straighter, his legs long but skinny. “Of course.” His voice cracked as if he were going through puberty.

  “Wonderful,” Damon said.

  Pastor King appeared at the doorway. “April. I didn’t realize you were bringing Damon today.”

  Damon moved forward. “We’re partners, Pastor. If she’s here, I’m here.” There was something menacing about his posture. A look passed between the men, and King stepped back.

  “All right. Come on in,” King said, gesturing them.

  It was as if they’d had an entire conversation with one look.

  Coolness met them inside. April sighed, happy to be out of the heat.

  Sharon was waiting for her and handed over a piece of paper. “Here’s a list of everyone you’ll meet with today. I thought we could start with the teenagers up in the rec room.”

  King cleared his throat. “You’ll intimidate them, Officer Winter.”

  Damon nodded. “Understood. How about you and I go have a little chat? I’d like to know more about how you’re running things here.” Without waiting for King to answer, Damon slapped his arm around the pastor’s shoulders and herded him around the cement blocks.

  Sharon watched them go. “Okay.” She shook her head, and her long hair tumbled around her shoulders. Today she wore a lighter peach lipstick with a white sundress and sandals. “This way.”

  April nodded. Where in the world was the woman getting lipstick? Well, today was a day for asking questions and being a pain in the neck. “If you don’t mind my asking, where are you getting makeup?” If she weren’t mistaken, Sharon was also wearing eyeshadow.

  The woman laughed, climbing the stairs to the next floor. “We have a stash. Somehow, it gets replenished every once in a while. Pastor understands that we like to feel pretty.”

  Was that creepy or sweet? “Are you and King…ah…”

  Sharon looked over her shoulder, her light eyes sparkling. “That’s a mite personal. Are you and Damon…ah…”

  Fair enough.

  A woman of about twenty years old waited at a card table in the older kids’ rec room, a book in her hands. She had black hair, blue eyes, and a very pregnant belly. “Hey, Sharon.”

  “Hi, Jada. This is April. She’ll be conducting interviews in here today. You need anything?”

  “Nope.” Jada set the book down.

  April’s hands turned clammy. All right. This was no big deal. She put the papers on the table, set down her backpack, and pulled up a chair. “Thank you for meeting with me today.”

  “Sure.”

  April took out her own notebooks and made two stacks. She found Jada’s name on Jax’s list as well as the Pure’s list, and she made a notation. “Where are you from?”

  The woman looked surprised and then recovered. “Originally from Seattle, but I was in my junior year at Pepperdine when Scorpius infected everybody. Never got a chance to get home.”

  “I’m sorry,” April said, reaching for the woman’s hand.

  Jada slid her hand off the table and away. “That’s okay. My family and I weren’t close, so I hadn’t intended to go back anyway.”

  April twirled a pen in her fingers. “I’m not infected.”

  “So you say. You’ve been outside, and you might’ve just brought the bug back in.” Jada’s tone remained matter-of-fact and calm. “I’m not taking that chance with my baby.”

  April nodded. “I understand.” She eyed the woman’s stomach. Maybe five months along? “I see from the Vanguard list that you joined the group about six months ago?”

  “Yes. Right when they started forming. The gangs were taking over Los Angeles, and Rippers were everywhere, so a few of us went looking for some sort of safety.” She patted her enlarged belly. “We found Vanguard, and then I found the Pure inside Vanguard.” She leaned in. “Isn’t ‘the Pure’ a stupid name? It’s so dumb.”

  April chuckled. “It really is. I take it the old pastor named it?”

  “Yeah. He was a religious nutjob, I tell ya.” Jada warmed up and leaned forward as if with good gossip. “We’re not even a church. Not really. I mean, Pastor King gives sermons once a week, and we’re all thanking God that we’re not dead or crazy, but it’s more like a safe zone than anything religious.”

  That’s what April had observed so far. “Have the members fought the change?”

  Jada scoffed. “Not at all. Pastor King was kind of in charge from the beginning, but more from behind the scenes, you know? I think he was trying to find his place, too. He’s such a good guy.”

  “He is very charismatic.”

  Jada’s gaze narrowed. “Isn’t he, though? Are you interested?” The mood in the room changed.

  “Nope. I’m with Damon Winter.” April gave the truth to calm the woman. Plus, why not go with the truth? “It’s complicated, though.”

  “It wouldn’t be if you moved in here,” Jada said easily.

  Huh. Good point. Had the woman been told to say that? To draw April in? She played along. “Yeah, I know. The closer I get to him, the more scared I become that he’s going to get killed in a raid with Jax Mercury. Or worse.” Whoa. That was actually the truth.

  Jada nodded. “You’d be safer here. Both of you would.”

  “You do have better food,” April said.

  “We do. Not sure where the pastor gets it, but we have great food. I think he has scouts on the outside. He must have.” Jada didn’t sound too concerned about it. “Someday, we’re going to find a nice organic farm away from any threats, and just live our lives. Once it’s safe to move out of the city.”

  Sounded like a good plan. “Jada, if you don’t mind my asking, who’s the father of your baby?” April tried to make her voice gentle.

  Jada’s eyes sparkled. “I do mind you asking.”

&nb
sp; Oh. Well. April cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to be personal, but one of Jax’s concerns is that people are here involuntarily and maybe women are being forced to have babies in some attempt to continue the human race. If I could report the truth back to him, then maybe he won’t storm through the front door with a cache of Vanguard Mercenary soldiers.” If all else fails, throw a good threat in there.

  “We’re protected here,” Jada said, not losing a beat.

  April frowned. “By God?”

  Jada snorted. “Yeah, by God. And man. We’re not worried about Mercury busting down the door.”

  What the heck did that mean? “Why not?”

  Jada shrugged. “Join us and find out.” She stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” Reaching down, she picked up a slouchy-type bag. Then she stilled. “Oh.” She partially leaned over and dropped the bag.

  April reached for her arm. “Jada?” Her heartbeat quickened.

  Jada exhaled and smiled. “Sorry. Little guy kicked my bladder. He likes to do that.”

  “Oh.” April relaxed and reached for the bag the same time Jada did. It fell over, and pictures slid out, followed by a silver gun. “You’re armed.” The pictures were of Rippers, their teeth gnashing, their eyes wild. From early newspapers or magazines? “What are these?”

  Jada quickly gathered the photographs and gun back into the bag. “I have a lesson with the older teens later. We like them to know what’s out there.”

  April frowned. “Don’t you think that’s overkill?” The poor kids. To be bombarded with images like that… No wonder they were terrified of the outside world.

  “No. That’s what’s waiting for them if they leave or become infected.”

  “What about the gun?” April breathed. She didn’t even have a weapon.

  Jade’s mouth tightened. “I’m protecting this baby with everything I have. If that means being armed in this world, then so be it.”

  Okay, that made sense, but still. Carrying a gun around inside an apartment building protected by armed guards? Why? “Are you trained?” April asked, looking for any information to take back to headquarters.