WILLOW

I loved being outside at night. The cool air and the quiet. The peace. As a child, growing up alone in a world full of strangers, I'd found comfort in thinking they were all asleep. Croc and I were the same in that way. I may not have been in solitude, but I'd always been alone. I breathed in the air, surrounded by family. The kids munched at their candy, taking bites out of everything before dropping them back unwrapped into the bucket. I didn't bother correcting them. The night was too perfect to ruin with rules.

When we made it back, they flopped onto their bed.

Julia unzipped her tent. "I see Merle isn't back yet," she said.

I bit back a laugh. "Guess he knows what's good for him."

She glared at me. "I liked that shirt. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

I grinned. "Goodnight."

I peeked inside our tent. Croc sat cross-legged on the floor between our beds, staring at the children. They'd passed out at awkward angles, still in their costumes and covered in chocolate from face to fingers.

I smiled. "They had fun, didn't they?"

"They did." He climbed onto his knees and pulled our blankets back. "You get some rest. I'll pick up all this candy and clean them up."

I didn't want to lay down. For the first time in weeks, I didn't feel tired. The night was perfect, and I didn't want it to end. "I've got them." I ducked in, then pried the half-eaten sucker out of Eric's fist and began picking up the rest.

Croc left and returned a moment later with a wet rag. He gently wiped their faces and hands. They were out so cold, they barely reacted at all. He lifted Eve to the pillow, and I did the same to Eric.

Croc covered them with the blanket, then rubbed his big hand over each of their heads. My chest swelled. He'd never looked more attractive than he did in that moment. I imagined a baby in his arms, his beaming smile. He would make an amazing dad. It was the one thing I knew for certain. The only thing I could guarantee.

"There," Croc whispered. He turned back to me. "Your turn."

"Not yet."

His brow furrowed. "Not yet?"

I took his hand and tugged. "Not yet."

He climbed to his feet, and I led him from the tent. It was almost atmospheric, the way things changed when we were alone. The temperature rose; the air thickened. I dragged him down the path, and the further we got, the more the tension grew.

When the river came into view, I released his hand and sprinted ahead.

"Be careful," Croc called, as if I were racing toward a cliff.

I stopped at the water's edge and spun, throwing a hand out in front of me. "Stop right there."

He did, though I could sense his confusion.

I bit back a grin and slowly undressed down to my underwear.

He seemed so much larger in the dark. So much less innocent. He crept closer, a silent hunter. He wasn't touching me, but it felt like he was. Like he could with his eyes alone. They were bright in the moonlight, searing me with their intensity. He reached out as he drew near and slid his palm across my stomach. "Is it safe?"

I smiled up at him. "I might be pregnant, Croc. That doesn't mean I'm made of glass."

A quite rumble rattled within his chest—a carnal sound. He bent his head, breathing me in.

My breath hitched, and heat pooled into my stomach. I wanted to touch him, but the anticipation was too delicious to break. It had been so long; I wanted to savor. I turned away and stormed into the water.

Croc stood frozen on the bank, watching me with a predator's stare. "Didn't I warn you about running, little fish?"

He stepped in to follow.

I swam backward with each inch he gained.

He teeth bared, almost a smile but not quite. "You want me to chase you?"

I bit back a grin, my blood pumping, adrenaline surging. "I'm not a little fish anymore." I dipped beneath the surface and took off as fast as I could.

It wasn't fast enough.

The water here didn't glow like the swamp, and it was impossible to see through the dark murk. Croc took advantage, toying with me like a cat. Barely there touches too well placed to be mistakes came and went like ghosts. Fingertips on my ankle. A caress on my thigh. A press of his lips against my stomach. Each time he made contact, I swam harder, but he always seemed to be right with me. Each second felt like the moment he would snatch me.

But he didn't. Instead, he disappeared. Long minutes passed with no sign of him. I broke the surface, finding myself completely alone. The water was deep; the shore was distant. I turned a circle, straining to see any disturbance in the waves. Nothing. "Croc?" 

The water shifted, and his arms circled me from behind. "It's easy to catch a fish that wants to be caught," he breathed into my ear. His hands roamed, one under my bra, the other lower.

I gasped, and his hold tightened, pinning me in place.

"No use squirming now, little fish." He massaged me, playing my body like an instrument, drawing music from my lungs. "I already caught you."

My back arched; my mind drifted, thoughts lost in a whirlpool of sensations.

It wasn't enough. I wanted more. "Croc. . ."

"Shh." He tortured me. Devoured me. Opened mouth kisses across my shoulder, my neck, my jaw, the sensitive spot behind my ear.

He tried his best to hold me still, but I pressed back, grinding against him.

Croc groaned, spun me around, and pulled my legs around his waist. Harsh breaths and loose lips dragged across my jaw, seeking my mouth. His kiss was starved. His hands were shameless. He gripped my bottom, pinning me tight as his body rocked.

I gasped, my nails digging into his back as I fought to get closer. He unclasped my bra, tore off my panties. Soft skin, hard muscle, sliding. Filling. He growled against my lips, then his eyes opened and locked with mine, feral with desire, watching me as he moved. His spine rolled in time with the waves, then shifted to the pace of our pounding hearts. Faster. Harder.

My swollen lips parted, breaths grew shallow and sharp, matching the rhythm of his. It wasn't human, the way he made me feel. It was too encompassing, too powerful to exist anywhere other than his world. The pressure built, becoming something I couldn't think past. It consumed me. It was me. My thighs clenched his hips, legs curled and tensed, drawing him closer.

Croc fisted my hair, pressed his cheek to mine, and took me higher. Harsh breaths echoed in my ear, stoking my flames like gasoline. I gripped his neck with one hand, his shoulder with the other, my eyes clenched shut as I reached a point past comprehension.

Then the tension snapped, and I cried out, pulsing around him.

Croc slowed, but he didn't stop. He kissed me languidly, touched me gentler, humming his approval.

"I love you," I breathed against his lips.

"I more than love you." His spine rolled, and he gripped my hip, moving me into each thrust.

My head fell back, and I held his shoulders, riding the waves he created.

Croc rested his face against the center of my chest. "I worship you." His voice was guttural, animalistic. "Only you." He heaved a breath, then another. His fingers curled, digging into my flesh.

I relished the pain, so unlike I had in the past. This was different. He was taking, but he wasn't stealing. I was his. He could have me.

His mouth on my breast, his raspy breaths. He took, took, took. He possessed. Then with a pained groan, he jerked away, breathing hard.

I palmed his cheek. "What's wrong?"

He took my hand and kissed my palm, still heaving air. "I remembered."

"Remembered to. . ." Realization dawned. "Oh. You remembered."

Croc laughed lightly and kissed my hand again. "I did."

Odds were, it was too late, but that didn't stop me from hugging him tightly. The fact that he cared enough to try, despite his own wants, meant more to me than he could ever understand. "Thank you for that."

His only response was a kiss on my neck, then he started back toward home.

* * *

CROC

I didn't sleep. I lay awake, watching her until the sun started to rise. Then I eased out of bed and went off to find her something to eat. My steps were light, my body buzzing like the kids had the night before. I felt alive.

I reached Tex's tent just as he emerged. He fell into step beside me, matching my steps with equal lightness.

I studied him. "Good morning," I said.

"Fuck yeah it is."

We entered the main part of camp, and Tex picked up pace. "Where in the hell did you boys find those?"

Four baskets of something red sat in front of the supply shed. A few men, Merle included, stepped in and out, collecting a share.

"There's an abandoned orchard next town over," Reggie said.

Tex grabbed one, wiped it on his shirt, then took a loud, crunching bite. He closed his eyes and groaned. "That's gotta be the best damn thing I've tasted since. . ." He trailed off, then cleared his throat and collected two more before walking away.

I stepped closer. "What are they?"

"Are you for real?" Reggie picked one up and handed it to me. "It's an apple. Fruit."

I turned it in my hands, feeling the smooth, shiny surface. Then I wiped it on my shirt like Tex had done and took a bite. My eyes widened. "This is good!" I said, my mouth still full.

Reggie's lip curled up in a sneer. "Yeah, no shit." He grabbed two and walked away.

I gathered a few and headed back to the tent. No way my baby wouldn't like this, and I couldn't wait to see Eve and Eric's reaction. But, when I made it back, they were both already awake in their bed, hair a mess and eating their candy. Willow was still soundly asleep.

I stepped in and pressed a finger to my lips. "I got you something," I whispered as I handed one apple to each of them and motioned toward the door. "How about you two go eat in camp with Papa Merle."

They nodded and scrambled out, and I kneeled beside the bed and gently stroked Willow's hair.

She shifted, then her eyes cracked open. She smiled. "Hi," she said sleepily.

"Hi." I lifted an apple between our faces. "I brought you something."

She blinked, then sat up, clutching the fruit with both hands. "An apple?" She took a bite, then chewed as if she hadn't eaten in a year. "Oh my god." She licked her lips. "That is so good."

I swallowed, for the first time in my life, missing the dark. "Here—" I handed her another. "—I sent the kids into camp, so you don't have to get up. I'll be back once I'm done fishing."

"No, wait." She sat up. "I'll go with you."

I hesitated. I was already worried she'd overdone it the day before, especially with how rough I'd gotten. "Are you sure you should?"

She grinned and climbed out of bed. "I feel amazing."

I nodded, then led the way, keeping a close eye on her. But unlike the other mornings, she didn't seem ill. Her color had returned, and her steps were eager.

When we made it to the river, she sat on the bank and ate her apples, watching me lazily toss out the fish.

"Why does that look so easy?" she asked.

I huffed a laugh. "Because it is."

"Doesn't that get boring?"

"Yes it does."

She took another bite and smiled around it.

I reached down to collect another fish.

"You know, I was thinking about baby names."

I lost my grip, and the fish swam away. I blinked. Reluctantly, I turned to look at her. "Baby names?"

She grinned and took another bite. "Yeah, like what do you think of Bob?"

My brows furrowed. "Bob?"

Willow laughed. "You don't like Bob?"

"Bob," I said again. No. It was weird, and I didn't like it.

"How about Gertrude?" she said.

"You're teasing me," I said.

Her eyes danced.

My lip twitched. She was joking, but now my mind wouldn't stop thinking about it. I hadn't considered names yet. I'd been too focused on health and safety.

"Officials," Willow said.

I shook my head and laughed. "Now I know you're—" Her terror wafted into my nose, jolting me alert. I looked around, finding what she'd seen.

An army of white suits marched down the river bank, headed toward us.