Still afraid to speak, wary that a sound might send him scurrying, I quirked my fingers again. Come. He did. Still slowly, moving gently, almost. The...boards of my attic bedroom, in my poor husband's old, creaking house, did not sound beneath his steps. His face was still shaded when he reached for me, but that only made the first touch sweeter. My thief was who I wanted him to be, like that. As he ran a shaking hand into my hair, brought another down to join my own on my breast, he was a. They won't be here until six. I've already been here since five a.m., and I wanna go home! It's an hour walk, and I've been on my feet all morning.” While I ordinarily didn't like this much complaining, this wasn't an ordinary woman, or ordinary circumstances. Time to swing into action. “An hour walk? That has to be a fifteen-minute drive, at most. Do you want me to give you a ride home?”“That'd be awesome, thank you. I know it can't be convenient, since you just picked food up. I'll find a way. More

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