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After setting the tongs on the platter, Arbor turned to look at Megan. She was standing in the doorway of the opened slider and watching him. A slight breeze was rustling her dark waves, and her lips were still bruised from his kisses. She looked so damn good, he had to remind himself that they had an important conversation to have before more loving could happen, or he would have scooped her up and fucked her against the sliding door.
“Secret. Right.” He cleared his throat and ignored his lion as the motherfucker started pushing him to claim their mate. “So… Do you remember last year when they had those videos all over the news about people who could change into animals?”
Megan eyed him curiously, but nodded. “Yes. Most people decided they were doctored videos, from what I remember.”
Arbor shrugged. “They weren’t. They are called shifters. The ones in most of those videos were given a steady dose of a drug that made them basically feral over time, but they’re real. In reality, most shifters are just normal people who just happen to be able to get furry when they want to.”
He watched her, waiting for any sign that she was freaking out, but what he saw was Megan still casually leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest as she uttered, “Well… that’s interesting.”
He almost laughed, but he stifled the urge and asked, “Interesting?”
“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know what you want me to say. There are only a few explanations here.”
“And in your opinion, those would be…”
She held up her hand between them and ticked off the explanations on her fingers as she spoke. “One, you’ve gone crazy and think you are a rabbit and suddenly start bouncing around. Two, I’ve gone crazy, and I’ll think I see you actually do that. Or three, you’re telling the truth, and all the paranormal romance readers of the world will think their mommy porn came to life.”
“And what if I show you?”
“If you show me and you actually change into an animal, then it cuts the first option out, leaving us with two explanations.”
Arbor was having trouble containing his amusement. She was being so logical about it that it was almost illogical. “I’m not a rabbit,” he told her as a way to lead into the rest of it. “I’m a lion, but I can’t show you out here on the deck.”
She crossed her arms again and raised a brow as she stared at him. “If you turn into a lion in the middle of your living room, you can’t get mad at me if I start singingLet the Lion Outby Carly Moffa.”
“I’m unfamiliar.”
“Well, we’ll correct that later.”
Arbor grinned at her. He wasn’t sure what he did in his life to deserve a mate so perfectly suited to his personality, but he wasn’t about to question it.
“Well… go furry, big boy.”
Arbor stepped up to her and pressed his lips to hers before he walked past her and into the living area of his house. After moving the coffee table out of the way, he closed his eyes, engaged his lion, and let the shift wash over him. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Megan still standing in the doorway and staring at him.
For a long moment, she didn’t move. She just stared, then she threw her hands up in the air and sighed. “So I’m imagining things or you’re furry.”
Arbor slowly walked toward her, prepared to stop at the slightest hint that she was nervous or about to freak out. He didn’t get those vibes off her, though. All he was sensing was curiosity. When he reached her, he sat down and rubbed his head gently against her hand.
Her fingers curled and ran along his mane. “Wow. It’s coarser and more oily than I expected, but I guess that makes sense. It’s not as if you wash it.” She was rambling, and it was adorable.
Arbor opened his mouth and licked along her wrist before he shifted back and waited. He didn’t want to push her. He wanted to let her process everything at her own pace, but it didn’t seem like it would take her long, unless it hit her later and sent her spiraling. That was always a possibility.
When she didn’t say anything, he gently asked, “Do you have any questions?”
She bugged her eyes out at him before she scoffed. “Uh… yeah, I have questions.”
He chuckled as he slipped past her, kissing her cheek on the way, and headed for the grill. Picking up the tongs, he flipped the steaks as he said, “I’m an open book, Kitten, but let’s get our plates and settle before we jump in. I have a feeling it’s going to take a while.”
“Good thinking,” she replied as the microwave dinged in indication that their potatoes were done ‘baking’. “Where are your plates?”
“What little dishes I have are in the cupboard over the microwave. The utensils are in the drawer below it.”
As the steaks continued to cook, he watched her through the sliding glass door and was struck by how sensible she was about the whole situation. Sure, she was curious and had questions, but she didn’t freak out. She didn’t run, screaming, from him. She wasn’t repulsed by him. Megan was accepting and understanding, and Arbor wondered what all she’d been through in her life to have that be her base level with outlandish situations.
Somehow, he knew it was a story and not a good one.
SEVEN
