“Liar, liar pants on fire.”

“Liar. You've loved me since I held your hand at your mother's memorial service when you were five years old.”

“You wanna taste me?" he murmured.Yes, I wanted to taste him. I would pay every penny of Aunt Ella's inheritance to taste him."No," I lied.He did a full grin this time, a full satisfied grin. It was hot, so hot my knees totally buckled and he took all my weight into his body."Liar," he whispered...”

“The first time I met you, you told me you grew up here, I’d call you a liar,” Tate informed me.I tipped my head to the side and asked, “Really?”“Really.”“Why?”“High-class,” he replied.“Sorry?”“You looked high-class,” he semi-repeated.“I’m not,” I stated.“No, Ace, you’re not. You’re a different kind of class.”“Farmer class.”“Pure class.”

“You call my cat Princess Fancy Pants, Ace, we got problems.”

“Jumpin’ Jehosafats, I think I just creamed my pants,” Annette whispered, staring at Luke. Luke’s eyes locked on me. He lifted his hand and crooked his finger. “I was wrong about before. Now, I’ve definitely creamed my pants,” Annette breathed.”

“She doesn’t look like a Buster,” I declared, “more like a Princess Fancy Pants.”Tate was bent and pulling a skilled out of a cupboard. His head tipped back and his eyes locked on mine.“You call my cat Princess Fancy Pants, Ace, we got problems.”