She stood in his kitchen, watching him toy with the ring in his lip. It wasn't quite that he was biting it, but sucking it into his mouth. He did that when he was concentrating. It isn't sexy. He's not sexy. But he was, and she was staring at him like a fool. "wow" she whispered (.....)"Wow, huh?" His voice was low, husky. His chair creaked as he stood. His footsteps seemed strangely loud as he closed the couple yards between them. Then he was beside her. "I can work with wow

Happiness is a choice.

Going backwards is never an option.

How was I to know? ... You didn't say anything.""I said lots of things," he corrected gently. "You just didn't hear them.

You're not weak at all. Wounded, but that's nothing to be ashamed of.

Writing is not just the technical act of your fingers on the keyboard. Writing is living.

Then he kissed her, not just a brush of lips as she'd done, but a kiss a kiss that scalded her tongue. The tree burst into full blooms. The garden fluttered around her. A riot of flowers shot out of the earth. She was mud-covered as he pulled back.