Winter's Touch
Page 15

Dressing in her shorts and tank top, she went downstairs to find that Beth had left dinner warming in the oven. She recognized the scent of lasagna, her stomach growling at the smell.
She made her and her aunt both a plate then set the table in the dining room with large glasses of ice water. Everything ready, she peeked into her aunt’s bedroom to see she was working on one of her crossword puzzles.
“Dinner’s ready,” Winter told her, as she went to her side to help her out of bed. She held on to her aunt’s arm as they walked to her dining room.
“It smells delicious,” Aunt Shay said, looking at the bubbling lasagna.
“It is.” Beth was an excellent cook. She and Lily both loved Italian food. Winter teased them every Pasta Monday, when it was Beth’s turn to make dinner, and Lily’s Pizza Thursday.
Winter gave each of them heaping plates of lasagna, and a large slice of bread that she had broiled and buttered. Surprisingly, Aunt Shay ate most of her plate, while Winter struggled to finish hers.
“If I keep eating like this, Dr. Price will put me on a diet.” Her aunt took another piece of the bread.
“Me, too.” Winter sat back, patting her full belly that couldn’t hold more than half a plate. It had been too long since she had eaten much. “Beth made a chocolate pie. Do you want me to get you a slice, or do you want to save it for later?”
“Later. We can eat some after the new zombie movie Beth brought me… if you’re not too tired. I don’t want you too worn out to go to work in the morning.”
“I took the next two weeks off,” Winter told her, as she gathered the dishes before carrying them to the sink. “What movie did Beth bring?”
“Zombie Doomsday.”
Winter had to smile at that.
After she rinsed the dishes and loaded them in the dishwasher, they moved to her aunt’s bedroom, where Aunt Shay lay down on the bed as Winter started the movie.
“Turn off the lights,” Aunt Shay requested, eagerly stacking her pillow against the headboard to lean back on.
Winter rolled her eyes, threatening, “I’m going to talk to Beth about feeding this obsession for scary movies of yours.”
“Don’t you dare! She’ll make me start watching The Sound of Music again.”
Winter turned off the light before climbing into bed next to her aunt. Halfway through the movie, she was close to prying away one of the pillows behind her back to hide her face. She felt like she was going to heave when one particular zombie tore a screaming woman into shreds in seconds. Meanwhile, her aunt had no trouble watching the gruesome scenes, riveted.
“I’m going to go get you your pie,” she excused herself, making sure to keep her eyes averted from the television screen as she escaped from the room.
“Don’t be long. He just saw someone hiding in the shed.”
“I won’t.” She had every intention of missing that, especially when she heard a shrill scream from the television.
In the kitchen, she cut her aunt a generous slice of a pie, but her stomach was too queasy from the gore to eat one herself. Then she put the pie back in the refrigerator and took out the whipped cream. She placed a big mound on top of the slice then squirted a large dollop on her finger, lifting it to her mouth.
A large hand reached out, latching on to her wrist.
Winter gave a bloodcurdling screaming, turning around in terror, her hands reaching out to claw the intruder’s face. She paused, her heart pounding in her ears.
“You idiot! I could have hurt you!” She fell back against the counter in relief.
“How? With whipped cream?” Viper laughed.
“How did you get in here?”
“Beth gave me her key. I thought you’d both be sleeping.”
“You should have called instead of scaring me to death.”
“And have you tell me not to come? I don’t think so.” He lifted her whipped cream-covered hand off his chest, licking the sweet substance off before she could jerk her hand back.
“We were watching a movie. I didn’t see the alarm light go off.” Her aunt had one of the controls to the alarm by her bed so she could check whether or not she had set it before she went to sleep.
“I keyed in the code when I came in the door. You must have been too busy playing with the whipped cream to notice,” he teased, picking up a dishtowel to wipe away the cream on his shirt.
She ignored his teasing, still trying to get her heartbeat back to normal after having the hell scared out of her.
“You missed a spot.” Winter pointed at the side of his jaw.
“Lick it off.” The sensual twist of his lips brought an ache to her pussy, one she was going to ignore.
“Text Sasha and have her come lick it for you.” She turned, picking up the pie plate.
“Tsk, tsk. Is that any way for a wife to talk to her husband?” He reached out, taking the plate and fork from her. He took a huge bite, his eyes practically rolling back into his head.
“That was for my aunt.” She stared in dismay as Viper ate the pie in three bites.
“I’m starving,” he replied. “It was Jewell’s turn to cook.”
“Not a fan of Sunday leftovers?”
“No. I’ve got to hire a new cook as soon as we have those new suppliers dealt with. Hiring one is my top priority. The only leftovers tonight were from Friday’s Hamburger Helper and Saturday’s soup.” He sniffed the air appreciatively. “What did Beth cook?”
“Lasagna, and I made garlic toast.”
“Any left?” His eyes scanned the counters as if they would magically appear. He was being deliberately obtuse to the fact that she was still angry with him.
“Cut another piece of pie for Aunt Shay, and I’ll make you a plate,” she caved, when he looked inside the empty oven.
“Deal.”
Winter pulled out the pie again, handing it to him, before she took out the lasagna.
“You want me to take it to her?” He added a small mountain of whipped cream to the pie.
“Not unless you want to kill my aunt. She would have a heart attack if you walked into her bedroom during that movie. I’ll take it to her when I put your plate in the microwave.”
“What’s she watching?” Viper eyed the pie as if he would demolish it before she could take it to her aunt.
Starting the microwave, she picked up the plate, holding it protectively. “Zombie Doomsday.” Her heart swelled when she heard his laughter as she left the kitchen.
She went to her aunt’s room, seeing she was still engrossed in the film.
“Viper’s here. I’m making him a plate. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Take your time,” Aunt Shay said, not looking away from the massacre taking place on the screen.
Viper was pouring himself a glass of iced tea when she came back into the kitchen.
Opening the microwave when the timer went off, she took out the hot plate and put it down on the kitchen table then went back and brought him a fork.
He dug into the food as if he were starved.
“Didn’t you eat today?”
“I had planned to eat breakfast with you, and you weren’t there. I missed lunch, because I was in a meeting with a buyer from an outdoor chain store who needed to get back to Chicago tomorrow. We finished up at eight, and no one wanted the leftovers that were still there. Most of the Last Riders went to eat at the diner.”