It’s brown.” So maybe I had the teeniest, tiniest, most infinitesimal amount of auburn in my hair. I was still a brunette. “It’s the lighting,” I said. “Yeah, maybe it’s the lightbulbs.” His smile brought up both sides of his mouth, and a dimple surfaced.

We don't have an address," I said, "but we do know where he works." "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Vee asked, eyes brightening briefly through the haze of chemical sedation. "Based on past experience, I hope not.

He brushed my curls back off my face. “I never pictured my life so complete. I never thought I’d have everything I want. You’re everything to me, Angel.

You picked the seats you did for a reason, right? Familiarity. Too bad the best sleuths avoid familiarity. It dulls the investigative instinct.

I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep beside you each night,” Patch told me gravely. “I want to take care of you, cherish you, and love you in a way no other man ever could. I want to spoil you — every kiss, every touch, every thought, they all belong to you. I’ll make you happy. Every day, I’ll make you happy.

I shouldn't have been looking at lingerie. It naturally made me think about sexy things. Like kissing. Like Patch.

The problem with human attraction is not knowing if it will be returned.