“Just thinking about him made her smile, sent a cheerful little shiver up her spine. Love was terrifying and weird, and sometimes uncomfortable. But it was so fucking sweet”

“That woman made him want to do unnatural things, and not just ditry stuff. He wanted to hold her close and kiss her sweetly. Weird.”

“That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her spine. What did that make anger? The antithesis ofgrace?”

“<…>Days before, seconds after she told him she wanted to have breakfast with her husband and he liked hearing her say that, he liked it too fucking much, he fucked up. Then he kept fucking up. Then he kept fucking doing it. He knew it and he couldn't stop. Then, the instant she pressed her mouth to his, her soft body in his lap, overwhelmed with emotion and sharing that with him he lost control and he knew he couldn't do that. And the only way he could manage to keep control was to stay the fuck away from her, her sweet smiles, her soft voice, her brightness, that fantastic fucking body. He couldn't hold up. So he stayed the fuck away from her and spent a lot of time thinking about how to encourage her to stay the fuck away from him.<…>”

“The smile made her want to hug him, and maybe love him up some more. Stupid smile.”

“It's a fucking shame that she's so intense because she's gorgeous. But there's something completely fucking terrifying about her.”