“Oh, my god!" I said, throwing my hands over my eyes and hurtling my body against the counter."What?""You're naked.""I'm not naked.""I'm blind.""You're not blind. I'm wearing pants.""Oh." That was embarrassing.”

“I'm not that squeamish, Mr. Stone.""Ethan," he said. "I'm naked. I'm in a tub. You're wearing my nightshirt. You've already slept in my bed. I think you should call me Ethan.”

“Oh, what a nuisance you are! I'm giving you my mouth, my arms, my whole body - and everything could be so simple...My trust! I haven't any to give, I'm afraid, and you're making me terribly embarrassed. You must have something pretty ghastly on your conscience to make such a fuss about my trusting you.”

“My eyes! I'm blind!”

“You have to admit he's good looking," Bree pressed, leaning against my kitchen counter. "Of course I admit it. I'm not blind," I said, busily opening cans.”

“His back was to me and he was wearing pajama bottoms and nothing else. His shoulders, the smooth muscles of his back, the wide expanse of smooth, tan skin, was all exposed to the naked eye and I was blinded by the beauty of it. So much, it was a wonder I didn't throw out my hand reeling.At that thought, he turned and gave me a view of his chest.At this view, arguably better than his back, I sucked in a breath then whispered to myself, "Oh my God.”