12 Quotes by Rebecca Brooks

When she at last pressed her mouth to his, it felt like coming home. He tasted of fire and smoke and earth, and fresh bread and soap and something so clean, so pure, it was like spring water to her lips.

She couldn’t stop kissing him. Literally could not. There could be an earthquake, a fire, an explosion – who would notice? The whole world could come crashing down and it wouldn’t be enough for her to pull away.

A quick and dirty whatever-it-was in the stolen minutes in the middle of the day was one thing. The quiet crackle of the fire, smell of warm bread, the home she knew was so important to him – this was something else altogether.