“The two things I enjoy the most about writing are the first page of a book and the last. What's in between is very hard work.”

“I'm thirty-six, and I'm in love for the first time. I don't know what that says about me. Maybe that I've waited for you all my life.”

“I know about safe sex," Nathan said, interrupting Jack's thoughts. Jack swallowed. "That's good." He smiled at his son, vastly relieved that there would be no hard questions about his own sex life. "What I want to know is..." Nathan stole a quick look back at the tent. "Where is the clitoris exactly?" Jack's smile fell and he opened his mouth. No words came out so he closed it. Nathan had no problem forming his words, though. "And what the heck is a G-spot?”

“I want to tell you something." He placed her palm against her cheek, rough with stubble. "In my life, I've been with women I didn't care about and women I cared a great deal about. But I've never been with a woman who makes me feel the way you do." He lowered his head and whispered against her lips, "Sometimes when I look at you, it's hard to breath. When you touch me, I don't care about breathing." He kissed her slow and sweet, and with each press of his lips and touch of his tongue, her heart swelled and ached. It was wonderful and awful and brand-new. Then he pulled back to say, "I don't know how this is all going to work out, but I want to be with you. You are important to me.”

“What can I give you? I get a handsome guy who does look good in the morning, and I get a great ring. What do you get?”“The only thing I’ve ever wanted.” He held her tight and smiled. “I get you, wild thing.”

“He’d been thinking about a lot of things lately, things that would never happen, things it was best not to think about. Things like waking up with Delaney every morning for the rest of his life and watching her hair turn gray.”

“Exactly what am I supposed to care about? That we were just getting to the fun stuff? That my hand was on your breasts, and your hands were all over my chest, and both of us were having a good time? Damn right I care about that. I wasn’t finished. But don’t expect me to care that a little old lady looked in the window and watched. Why should I care what people are going to say about that? People have talked about me since the day I was born. I stopped caring a long time ago.”