Well, at least I’m not a stubborn, button-pushing, Prius-driving, chip-on-your-shoulder-holding, ‘stay-at-home-mom’-is-the-eighth-dirty-word-thinking feminazi!

It may have taken nine years, and a whole lot of wrong turns along the way, but their story felt complete at last. Because, finally, she was his.

Some jobs required a certain level of detachment; a turning off of emotions in order to do the things that needed to be done.

I love you,” she said softly. Jason's arms tightened around her. He grinned sleepily. “I know.” Taylor drifted off contentedly. Until through the darkness, she heard a low, sneaky whisper. “Mrs. Taylor Andrews . . .” She didn't bother to open her eyes. “Still not gonna happen.

If we go now, there's no coming back. You're mine all night." Her eyes flashed. "Promise?" That was it. Jack grabbed her hand and pulled her off the dance floor, toward the main entrance of the tent.

It’s not the place that matters, It’s how good you are when you get there.” -Rylann

Oh God, baby...love me.