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. “Guess 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.”