“Phew,” Zane muttered as James plopped down next to him and reached for the last piece of toast. “These little waiters of yours may be weird-lookin’ buggers, but they know how to make a good cup of coffee.”

“They can kill the Kennedys. Why can't they make a cup of coffee that tastes good?”

“The last laugh, the last cup of coffee, the last sunset, the last time you jump through a sprinkler, or eat an ice-cream cone, or stick your tongue out to catch a snowflake. You just don't know.”

“Ty’s jeans were totally soaked and clung to him like a second skin, and Zane had to swallow hard. Jesus. “Good luck getting out of those gracefully,” he rasped with a slight smile, still leaning against the wall.“Good luck thinking for the next hour,” Ty shot back with a smirk.“Shit,” Zane muttered, turning into the spray to wash before leaning and shutting the water off.”

“Do you know how helpless you feel if you have a full cup of coffee in your hand and you start to sneeze? ”

“Piece of cake. Or toast, in your case. I'll stuff your toast, baby.”