“I see you looking at my cookies,' my father said to Morelli. 'Don't even think about it. Go get your own cookies.”

“Do you want a cookie?- What?- A cookie. Like an Oreo. Do you want one?- No.- How can you not want a cookie?- I just don't.- Okay, fine,let's say you did want a cookie. Let's say you were dying for a cookie, and there were cookies in the cupboard. What would you do?- I'd eat a cookie?- Exactly. That's all I'm saying.- What are you saying?- That if people want cookies, they should get a cookie. It's what people do.- Let me guess. Dad won't let you have acookie?- No. Even though I'm practically starving to death, he won't even consider it. He says I have to have a sandwich first.- And you don't think that's fair.- You just said you'd get a cookie if you wanted one. So why can't I? I'm not a little kid. I can make my own decisions.- Hmm. I can see why this bothers you somuch.- It's not fair. If he wants a cookie, he can have one. If you want a cookie,you can have one. But if I want a cookie, the rules don't count. Like yousaid, it's not fair.- So what are you going to do?- I'm going to eat a sandwich. Because I have to. Because the world isn't fairto ten-year-olds.”

“I can see that you don’t believe me. Maybe it was the cookie? Well, you refused to taste my cookies last night and honestly, I was going to eat the other cookie, but you looked so tired and sad sitting there, I figured you needed the cookie more than I did.”

“I finished my soup and bread and helped myself to a handful of cookies from the cookie jar, glancing at Morelli, wondering at his lean body. He’d eaten two bowls of soup, half a loaf of bread slathered in butter, and seven cookies. I’d counted. He saw me staring and raised his eyebrows in silent question. “I suppose you work out,” I said, mores statement than question. “I run when I can. Do some weights.” He grinned. “Morelli men have good metabolisms.” Life was a bitch.”

“Gideon opened his and read, “Prosperity will knock on your door soon.”I snorted.Cary shot me a look. “I know, right? You snatched someone else’s cookie, Cross.”“He better not be anywhere near someone else’s cookie,” I said dryly.Reaching over, Gideon plucked half of mine out of my fingers. “Don’t worry, angel. Your cookie is the only one I want.”

“What about desserts?" I asked. "If the world comes to an end, I'm going to want cookies.""We're all going to want cookies if the world comes to an end," Mrs. Nesbitt agreed. "And chips and pretzels. If the world is coming to an end, why should I care about my blood pressure?""Okay, we'll die fat," Mom said.”