“For the first time in my life, I was in a shoot-out. A real, honest-to-goodness shoot-out with a bad guy. And, apparently, we both sucked.”

“I sort of got off on making bad guys sweat. Which was not unlike my love of making good guys sweat, just by very different means.”

“Time-out,” I said. He twisted his hand around and wound his fingers into mine. “You‘re putting me in time-out?”“Yes,” I said as a shaky sigh slid through my lips.“If I don‘t go, do I get a spanking?”

“Where have you been?"I stepped into my apartment and met Uncle Bob's glare with one of my own. "Out trying to pass myself off as a movie producer to get hot guys to sleep with me. Where have you been?”

“He took a long draw then asked, “What’d I do?”“You knew about the guy threatening my dad?”He paused, shifted in his chair, so freaking busted, it wasn’t funny. “They told you?”“Why, no, Swopes, they didn’t. Instead, they waited until the guy knocked the fuck out of my dad and readied him for spaceflight with duct tape then tried to kill me with a butcher’s knife.”

“After a long pause in which he took the time to blink several times, he asked, "You named your breasts?"I turned my back to him with a shrug. "I named my ovaries, too, but they don't get out as much.”

“Can I jump in your body and make out with my wife through you?” I fought a grin. “It doesn’t really work that way.” “Then can you just make out with my wife and pretend I’m in your body?” “No.” “I can pay. I have money.” “How much we talking?”