“Not bad," he decided."I'm overwhelmed by your flattery.”

“It's not right," he repeated, grabbing her again and turning her to face him. "I'm not having it.""So you said, in clear terms.""I don't mean that.""Oh, well, if you've decided you'd like to have sex with me after all, I've changed my mind.""I haven't decided--" He broke off, staggered. "Changed your mind?""I have. Kissing you wasn't altogether what I thought it would be. So you were right and I was wrong." She gave him a deliberately insulting pat on the cheek." And that's the end of it.""The hell it is." He trapped her against the truck, quickly and firmly enough to have both excitement and annoyance rising inside her. "If I want you, I'll have you, and that's the end of it.”

“You got used to running things on your own." "What could he do about it when he's in Iraq and the car breaks down in Kansas?" Beckett gave her a long, quiet look. "I'm not in Iraq." "No, and it has to be said, I'm not in Kansas anymore." She lifted her hands, then let them fall. "It's not that I've forgotten how to be a couple, but that my experience in being part of one is different from yours. Maybe from most people's. And I've been on my own a long time." "Now you're not. I'm not fighting a war, and I'm right here." Needed to be here, he realized, with her.”

“The socializing hadn't been so bad, he acknowledged, and he couldn't say he minded the food, though a man would do better with a good beef sandwich. Still it was plentiful, even if you did have to pick your way through half of it to get to something recognizable.”

“My apartment's only about a block away.""Isn't that handy.""Fate," he countered as he took a seat on the sofa and made himself at home. "Fantasic, isn't it?""One day very soon, I'm going to tell you what you can do with that fate of yours.”

“He curled his fingers around the lip of the pot, and under the sick gelding they began a vicious little tug-of-war. He would have laughed, was on the point of it, when he looked at her face and saw that her eyes were wet.He let go of the pot so abruptly, Keeley fell back on her butt. "What are you doing?" he demanded."I'm applying a non-irritating blister to a knee spavin.Now go away and let me get on with it..""There's no reason to start that up. None at all." Panic jingled straight to his head, nearly made him dizzy. "This is no place for crying.""I'm upset.It's my stable.I can cry when and where I choose.""All right,all right,all right." Desperately he dug into his pockets for a bandanna. "Here, just blow your nose or something.""Just go to hell or something." Rather grandly, she turned her shoulder on him and continued to apply the blister."Keeley,I'm sorry." He wasn't sure for exactly what,but that wasn't here nor there. "Dry your eyes now, a ghra, and we'll make this lad comfortable for the night.""Don't take that placating tone with me. I'm not a child or a sick horse."Brian dragged his hands through his hair, gave it one good yank. "Which tone would you prefer?""An honest one." Satisfied the blister was properly applied,she rose. "But I'm afraid the derisive one you've used since we got here fits that category. In your opinion,I'm spoiled, stubborn and too proud to accept help."Though the tears appeared to have passed, he thought it wise to be cautious. "That's pretty close to the truth," he agreed, getting to his feet. "But it's an interesting mixture, and I've grown fond of it.”

“He decided there was no point in telling her he'd looked in the fridge and seen none of these things. There'd just be some variation of his mother's standard crack about Male Refrigeration Blindness Syndrome.”