“His voice was warm and slow and reminded me of the gentle rumble of a distant summer storm – so inviting at a distance. And those eyes again, the ones that made me feel naked, like he saw beneath my skin. I knew I couldn’t sit down and tell him my worries, but his steadfast gaze made me want to.”

“His voice was warm and slow and reminded me of the gentle rumble of a distant summer storm – so inviting at a distance. And those eyes again, the ones that made me feel naked, like he saw beneath my skin. I knew I couldn’t sit down and tell him my worries, but his steadfast gaze made me want to.”

— Mary E. Pearson