... he was sunset against the mountains, strong, vibrant, dangerous, and yet somehow sheltering, protective. And married. Picnic, meet rain.

Then they both smiled the exact same smile. Narcissism times two. Oh, get a room already.

I don’t know what’s happened to you. You used to be such a nice girl. Now you’ve gone all stabby and whatnot.

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “I play pool. Shoot hoops sometimes too. Any other sport you’re curious about?” “Hockey? Polo?” “Simultaneously. Trick is to keep the horses on their skates.

... he trotted down the hallway on all fours and started in on his second favorite pastime, conversations with plumbing. Just what I needed: Stone, the Toilet Whisperer.

I glanced up at Zay, then walked over to stand next to him. "You look good with a baby in your arms," he murmured. I took his hand, careful with his fingers that were still wrapped in tape. "Don't get your hopes up, Jones. I'm not the settling-down type." "Want to bet on that?" he asked. "Sure." I made a fist; so did he. We pumped three times. I threw paper. Zayvion threw scissors. I'd lost. Startled, I looked up at him. "Two out of three?" Zay grinned. So did I.

I don’t know how to explain it.” “Try words. If that doesn’t work, we’ll move on to interpretive dance.