“Raising one hand, he tilts his hat to that sexy slant. "You want me. Admit it."Even if he's partly right, I'll never tell him. "Why would I want you?"He lifts three fingers to countdown. "Mysterious. Rebellious. Troubled. All those qualities women find irresistible.""Such an optimist.""My cup is never empty.""Too bad your brain is." The words bite, but my smile softens with affection.”

“Jeb releases my fingers and cups my face in his hands, barely touching me, like I'm breakable. "It's me I'm losing control of. Hundreds of sketches, and I still can't get enough of your face." He traces the dimple in my chin with his thumb. "Your neck." His palm moves along my throat. "Your..." Both hands find my waist and drag me off the table so we're standing toe to toe. " I'm not wasting another second drawing you," he whispers against my lips, "when I can touch you instead." He presses his mouth to mine.”

“I'm going to fall in love with an artist. And we'll have two kids and live in the country. A quiet life, so we can hear our muses and answer when they call. Tipping up my chin to meet his gaze, he gives me a tender, starlit smile—one that melts my insides. "I like your version better.”

“I hate you," I say, the sentiment muffled against his heart, hoping to make it true."And I love you," he answers without hesitation, voice resolved and raw as he holds me tighter so I can't break away and react. "A crossroads, my beautiful princess, that was unavoidable—given our situations.”

“I clench my fingers. "She's right, huh? The morbid and revolting are such fascinating subjects.”

“You're going to be a famous artist." His voice is deep velvet - soothing and sure. "You'll live in one of those artsy, upscale apartments in Paris with your rich husband. Oh, who just happens to be a world-renowned exterminator. How's that for a twist of fate? You won't even have to catch your own bugs anymore. That'll give you more time to spend with your five brilliant kids. And I'll come visit every summer. Show up on the doorstep with a bottle of Texas BBQ sauce and a French baguette. I'll be weird Uncle Jeb.”

“Now, you listen, Alyssa Victoria Gardner. Normal is subjective. Don't ever let anyone tell you you're not normal. Because you are to me. And my opinion is all that matters. Got it?”