“I don’t know what to tell you. And you haven’t said much. So let’s start simple. Do you want me to let go of your hand?”
His heart thumped in his chest. Once. Twice. If she didn’t respond soon, he’d punch out of this conversation with more than a little wounded pride.
“No.” She shook her head.

Another cracking sound. Winters’s body jerked toward the sound and launched into motion. The kidnapper shuffled, panting hard, struggling to move with his load. This didn’t make any sense. It was amateur hour. All of the noise from the man acted as a homing beacon. What happened to the professional level of the earlier team? The man sweated whiskey and tobacco. Even if he weren’t making all that noise, Winters could smell him.
I’m coming, honey. Don’t you worry. I’m gonna kill this fucker for you.

she longed to taste his perfect lips again, though she was well aware of why he kissed her. He might not call it stress, but it was a reaction based entirely on their day of bullets and bruises.

As fast as he pulled off the road, he brought her close to his face, and without even a second to hover over her, he crushed his lips onto hers. Her tense mouth gasped a breath, then melted. The hot caress of her tongue sent explosions from his chest to the palms of his hands. The pounding in his heart didn’t get any better. It only pushed his racing pulse faster, making it gallop wild, as intoxicating rockets flamed inside him.

“So this bunch of guys you work with, I assume you’re all deadly, virulent, and…antagonistic?”
“Nah, I prefer effective.”
“And do they all rescue women and kiss them at the end of the day, too, or is that just you?”

“There’s something about her that I like and that’s all I have to say about that.”
Gabe was still staring at him. “You’re . . . you’re smiling.”
Was he? It took him a moment to realize that he was smiling.
“You’re not anymore,” Gabe added dryly.

He placed the chair in front of her and sat down. “We need to talk.”
She thought he looked rather strange sitting in the old plastic chair, dressed like he was. Her gaze lifted to his face. “About what, Devlin?”
“About a lot of things.” He leaned toward her, resting his arms on his knees. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Congratulations.”

Lucian clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Don’t let what Sabrina did or what Lawrence did screw up any more than they already have. Now, I have a woman to go annoy the ever-loving crap out of. She likes it when I do that, though.”

“I’m just surprised. Figured you’d be in a Porsche or, like, a Ferrari or something.”
He refocused on the road. “I have a Porsche.”
“Of course,” she demurred.
“I don’t have a Ferrari.”
“Gasp. What does the club think of that?”

“Well, I’m going to call an Uber,” she said when he turned to her. “Thanks—”
“I can take you home.”
Surprised, she wasn’t sure what to say at first. “I’ll just call—”
Devlin pinned her with a look. “Get in the truck, Rosie.”
It was kind of stupid to turn down the offer. Right? She glanced down at her phone and then made up her mind. “Can you say please?”
Coming to stand at the passenger side, he opened the door. “Can you please get in the damn truck?”
Rosie flashed a smile. “Since you asked so nicely and said please, yes, I shall take you up on your offer.”
“Honored,” he murmured as she climbed in.

“I imagine it won’t be long before Gabe and Nikki are living together. With Lucian moving out, you’re going to be . . .” She paused and then sung, “All by yooourseeelf. You’re gonna be, all by yooourseeelf.”
He slowly turned to her. “Please don’t do that again.”

“Why are you here?” she asked.
Knowing she wasn’t talking to him, but unable to help himself, he said, “I have no idea.”

Her mother smiled, flashing those pearly whites. “Well educated and pretty as a peach pie, but she’s about as clumsy as a three-legged alligator.”
Rosie’s mouth dropped open. A three-legged alligator? First off, she wasn’t clumsy and second, a three-legged alligator ?

“Do you have to tell me I’m a dickhead? Because we’ve already established that.”

“Maybe . . . maybe I’m not going to find that kind of love again,” she said, lifting her gaze to her mother’s. “Maybe he was it for me. Maybe he was the one, and I’m not someone who gets to have multiple ‘the ones.’ And I’m okay with that.”
Her eyes turned sad. “Are you really, Rosie?”

“Was that a guy’s voice?” Lance asked as Rosie shushed Devlin.
“Did you just shush me?” they both demanded at the same time.
Rosie clutched her phone. “I didn’t shush you, Lance. I’d never shush you. Look, can I call you back in a little bit? I’m in the middle of a very important argument with Devlin de Vincent over whether or not I can call him a dickhead instead of Dev.”

“Really. There’s no one else I want to torture but you.”

“I’m not leaving you and me up to chance.”

We already know each other’s worst. We’ve battled right through it and come out the other side unbreakable. There will inevitably be arguments, concessions, and peace treaties drawn up in spilled blood, sweat, and tears.

“In a minute I’m going to get up and drag you to the edge of the tower. Then we’re going to jump over the wall.”
“It’s fifty feet down,” he said. “That’s called suicide.”
“Or death on our terms.”
“Leave me, God damn it.”
“No. It’s my turn to save us. We’re going to jump.” I coughed. The smoke was eating my lungs. I was so tired. “I’m just going to rest half a minute. My arm hurts a little.”
I lay next to him.
“Will you marry me?” Curran asked.
“You’re asking me now?”
“Seems like a good time,” he said.
He deserved an honest answer. “If I marry you, then you’ll be my husband.”
“Yes, that’s how it works.”
Smartass.

“That’s my line in the sand,” he said. “Would you still walk away?”
“Yes.” If his life were on the line, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
“Even if I leave you because of it?”
“Yes.”
He spread his arms.
“I can’t change who I am,” I told him. “Neither can you. I get it.”
“I love you and you love me, and we’re both too fucked up for anyone else. Who else would have us?”
I sighed. “Well, clearly we’re both crazy and this relationship is doomed.”
“I love you so much,” he said. “Please don’t leave me.”

“But I love you and I don’t want you to be hurt. I’m not going to ask you to come with me. That would be like stepping in front of a moving train and saying, ‘Hey, honey, come stand next to me.’”
I hopped off the wall and stood next to him. “Anytime.”
He just looked at me.
“I’ve never killed a train before. It might be fun to try.”
“Are you sure?”
“One time I was dying in a cage inside a palace that was flying over a magic jungle. And some idiot went in there, chased the palace down, fought his way through hundreds of rakshasas, and rescued me.”
“I remember,” he said.
“That’s when I realized you loved me,” I said.

“The only difference between you and Derek is discipline and training. Either you can work on both, or you can keep thinking with your balls. It’s your choice. Say ‘pop.’ ”
“Pop?”
“That was the sound of me pulling your head out of your ass."

I’d never shopped for a gift before. I mean, I had. I wasn’t a crappy boyfriend. I got Edie gifts all the time. But I always did the usual thing of getting her gear or a new surfboard whenever it was time to celebrate whatever shit date society deemed as important. With Jesse, it was different. I didn’t want to give her something she needed; I wanted to give her something that would show her that she didn’t need anyone but herself.
Jesus, what?

"Cut the beard, Bane. You’re not your father. Stop hiding.” Her thighs clamped against my leg, and I knew that she was close. I might as well have shot my load straight into her PJ’s, because that shit was more erotic than any fuck I’d had in the last three years.
“No,” I grunted.
“Then I’ll stop.”
“Do what you have to do.” I pretended to smirk. I wasn’t one to negotiate with terrorists, no matter how hot they were and how hard they made my dick. But when her thighs left mine, and I felt how damp and warm my leg was, how I missed her stomach pressing against my cock, I jerked her back into me.
“I’ll cut the beard."

"About us holding hands in Dr. Wiese’s clinic…”
I was feeling brave, but then he stopped, turned around, and looked at me seriously. “Yeah. Wasn’t thinking. Won’t happen again.”
“No,” I said, stopping, too. [...] “I was wondering if we could do this again sometime. Not, like, in a weird capacity or anything. I just want to know that I, uhm.” I swallowed, glancing around. “Can.”
I couldn’t stop thinking about his inked hand on mine. About the moment my lips fluttered on his surprisingly smooth cheek. His nostrils flared, and something I couldn’t decipher zinged in his eyes. Whatever it was, he weighed his words carefully before he said them. “Yeah.” He looked around us, like someone was watching, tugging at his beard. “Sure. You want me to surprise you, or just do it now?”
I thought about it for a second, resuming our walk. We were in sync now.
“Surprise me.”
We reached the end of the promenade and waited for the light to turn green before we crossed it. His palm found mine, but he kept looking at the traffic light, like nothing was happening, all bored and indifferent.
"Okay?" He whispered under his breath.
"Okay."