Leaning back against Cam's chest, I tipped my head back and I reached up, cupping his cheek. I drew his mouth to mine and kissed him softly. "Thank you." His lips curved up on one side. "For what?" "For waiting for me.

It was a Friday night, she was at a club, and a good-looking man was currently giving her the I-want-to-take-you-home-and-I-hope-I-last-longer-than-five-minutes look… and she was thinking about pie, a young adult book, and feeding her cat. She was so turning into the cat lady at twenty-seven. Sweet.

We have to stop meeting like this." And that was the truest thing ever spoke. I needed to stop staring at his bicep... and chest... and tattoo. Never thought the sun could be so... sexy. Wow. This was awkward. "You running over me, me almost running over you?" Cam elaborated. "It's like we're a catastrophe waiting to happen.

You’re nice to me because you think I’m pretty?” “And because you have brown eyes. I’m a sucker for big old brown eyes.

Chad had prowled over to her, and she felt good caged in between those powerful arms, but when he kissed her flushed forehead and then the tip of her nose, she lost a little of herself forever.

All I'm saying is once you've been out in the woods and heard the things I've heard, you'd believe in Big Foot and the chupacabra.

His chin grazed the top of my head and then his lips brushed across my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, sweetheart. I promise.