He reclined on a delightfully cushioned lounge in the sprawling ranch Paris had rented. In Dallas, Texas, of all places. Promiscuity had decked himself out, too, wearing a Stetson (weird), no shirt (understandable), unfastened jeans (smart) and cowboy boots (weird again). Dude looked ready to rustle cattle or something.
Gena ShowalterThis means nothing,โ she said. โLess than nothing,โ he lied. โIโll hate myself later.โ โI hate myself now.
Gena ShowalterBomb', Reyes said, not bothering to look up. 'One of ours?' Maddox insisted... 'Hardly. I know better than to blow myself up,' Reyes sighed.
Gena ShowalterMarcus: Cherry? Jillian: My ten-year-old niece. Marcus: She's named after a piece of fruit? Jillian nodded. Jillian: So is her twin sister, Apple. Marcus: You're kidding me. Jillian: Unfortunately, I'm serious. Their father is fond of fruit pies and thought it would be cute. Marcus: And their mother didn't protest? Jillian: She thinks Steven's cute, so she gives him whatever he wants.
Gena ShowalterI'd stood my ground against him. I wasn't going to jump when he said jump. I was more likely to give him the finger.
Gena Showalter