What, no Power Rangers Band-Aids ?" "Shut up, Garett." "Yes, ma'am.

White on rice. Green on grass. Sheets on a bed. Him on her.

Amy, listen to me. What I do. The choices I make. They're mine. Only mine. The consequences of those decisions—mine. "Mine," he repeated when she sighed heavily. "No one else's." Silence. Only the warm wetness of her tears dampening his shirt. It broke his heart.

I guess the answer would be yes." "Got to love that word." He kissed her so sweetly then, it brought tears to her eyes. "Got it in you to say it again?" And then he did the unthinkable. He went down on one knee.

Without illusions. I love you because you are fallible and because your poor misguided testosterone-corrupted brain has you doing cartwheels trying not to be. I love you because of all you are and because of all you're not. And because, no matter what, you are all the man I'll ever need.

Very slowly, she peeked around the tree trunk. Saw a slim, petite figure, flanked by two very large, very dangerous-looking soldier of fortune types picking their way through the bodies and the rubble. "Amy?" Oh, God. It was Amy. "Get away from her," Jenna ordered, stepping out from behind the conifer, wielding the iron pan like a club. Both men stopped. Glanced at her. Glanced at each other over Amy's head. "What?" The biggest one grunted out a surly laugh. "Or you'll souffle us?" Okay. She was definitely going after him first.

Go to bed," he ordered. "Go to bed... and stay there.