How did you get in?" "I move in mysterious ways." "God moves in mysterious ways. You move like lightening-here one moment, gone the next.

The older woman waiting for admittance looked at me, then over her shoulder at Patch, who was vanishing down the hall. “Honey,” she told me, “he looks slippery as soap.

I tended to be more a romantic than a realist, and chose blind faith over cold logic.

First,” he said, coming behind me and placing his hands on the counter, just outside of mine, “choose your tomato.” He dipped his head so his mouth was at my ear. His breath was warm, tickling my skin. “Good. Now pick up the knife.” “Does the chef always stand this close?” I asked, not sure if I liked or feared the flutter his closeness caused inside me. “When he’s revealing culinary secrets, yes.

I’m doing boy detox. Like a diet, only for my emotional health.

Anyone ever tell you you're an incredible kisser?

Well, well,” he said. “Five days a week isn’t enough of me? Had to give me an evening, too?