“Now, now. Southern ladies don’t French-kiss and tell.”

“Did anybody tell you that you're a few french fries short of a Happy Meal?”

“We just lost our electricity. You want to tell me what’s so funny about that?”“It’s not exactly funny. It’s more of a good news/bad news situation.”“In that case, hit me with the good news first.”“They’re both sort of rolled up into one.”“Stop stalling.”“All right. Now don’t get mad, but . . .” Smothered laughter drifted toward him. “Cal . . . I’m naked.”

“Give me those keys.”“I will not!”“You win, Professor. I’ll buy you a car. Now give me the damn keys.”“I have a car.”“A real car. A Mercedes, a BMW, whatever you want.”“I don’t want a Mercedes or a BMW.”“That’s what you think.”“Stop bullying me.”“I haven’t even started.”

“When that bastard calls back, you tell him he’s won this round. I’ll marry him. But I don’t take well to being blackmailed, and tell him I intend to spend the rest of my life making him miserable, got that?”

“It was a kiss made in lonely dreams. A kiss that took its time. A kiss that felt so right she couldn't remember all the reasons it was wrong.”

“Hold it right there. The only agreement we ever had was that you intended to make me as miserable as possible, and I intended to courageously make the best of an intolerable situation like valiant Southern women have always done.”