Well, duh. He was six feet, six inches tall and built like a brick shithouse.

Pull up your big girl panties and just do it.

There was both love and despair in his voice. He was truly handicapped when it came to emotions, and falling in love hadn't changed that.

As always, Blay was the anchor who kept him from being swept away.

But come on, like she hadn't seen every aisle in his grocery store already?

And bottom line, without John by her side, everything seemed to be just a big, resounding meh.

And speaking of on board, she'd moved into John's room properly. In his closet, her leathers and her muscles shirts were hanging next to his, and their shitkickers were lined up together, and all her knives and her guns and her little toys were now locked up in his fire proof cabinet. Their ammo was even stacked together. How frickin' romantic.