Family didn’t give up. Family kept going.

We don’t know who we really are until we meet the people we’re supposed to be with.

I move too much. I would end up next to you.” “Would that be such a bad thing?” He hadn’t touched her since before the incident, nothing beyond the merest brushing of his hands across her as he settled a blanket around her or helped her out of bed. He sighed, a heavy sound. “Eve, you flinch when I touch you.

Why is it always the self-righteous pricks who turn out to be complete perverts? You know it gives the rest of us a bad name. Own your perversion, dude.

You know how women can be. One little attempted murder and they’re on to the next guy.

Is the meeting over?” Grace asked. “Should I clean up?” Charlie knew exactly what was going to happen. “He’s going to say he doesn’t want a donut, but he totally does. Save him three. He’ll eat them before lunch and then pretend he didn’t. Oh, and he likes his coffee really black, like almost espresso like.” Grace stopped. “Seriously? I’ve been making it medium.” “He likes really dark roast.” Another swat hit her ass. “I hate everything.

And Eve paid the price and she continues to pay it every single day because neither one of you can let go for a second.” “If putting Michael Evans back where he belongs gives her a minute of peace, I’m going to do it. I’m her husband. I have to do this for her.” Ian shook his head, his eyes grim. “You’re not her husband anymore, Alex.

Three of them really. Ian hadn’t come alone. Sean and Case were with him. The Taggart brothers had come for one of their own.

Their marriage had broken as surely as the glass on the ground, and neither of them had swept up the pieces. They kept trying to pick them up and fit them back together, but some pieces had shattered utterly and would never fit again. All they got for the effort was bloody hands and frustration.

Yeah, yeah, Jesse had been fed the seventy-two virgins line, too. He could remember looking up at the Caliph and explaining that he never really had a thing for virgins. He preferred dirty girls. Now if he could promise him seventy-two fully experienced women with a taste for the nasty, they still wouldn’t talk because having all those women to please sounded a little more like hell than heaven. He’d.