Was it an act? You for starters, I said. It was as if Richard's body broke the plane of some barrier, as if my body were a door, and we'd pushed inside. The breakfast nook on its little raised platform with its bay window looking out over the woods still held a smaller four-seater table. Well, that's one way of putting it.
God knows I did, but I hadn't realized until those first few moments how much I'd come to rely on the ardeur. His voice was more growl than anything else, when he said, I've never had hands before when I shifted. People act like they love you, but how do you ever know it's real. He called inside my head, sort of.
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