“Once again Bobby Tom glanced at her over the top of Cheryl Lynn’s fluffy blond curls. “How was the spaghetti you ordered?” “It was excellent.” “I’m not much for the green stuff they poured over it.” “Are you referring to the pesto?” “Whatever. I like a nice meat sauce.” “Of course you do. With a double rack of greasy ribs on the side, I’ll bet.” “You’re making my mouth water just thinking about it.” Cheryl Lynn lifted her head from his shoulder. “You’re doin’ it again, B.T.” “Doing what, sweetheart?” “Talkin’ to her.” “Oh, I don’t think so darlin’. Not when I got you on my mind.”

“She threw up her hands. "All right. Why not?" Why not?" Sure." His arms fell to his sides. "That's it? I pour my heart out. I love you so much I've got freakin' tears in my eyes. And all I get in return is 'Why not'?" What did you expect? Am I supposed to fall all over you just because you've finally come to your senses?" Would it be too much to ask?"...He'd begun to glare at her again, his eyes growing stormier by the minute."When do you think you might be ready? To fall all over me, that is.”

“All right," she said in a low, determined voice. 'I'll go along with this. But you are not, under any circumstances, to refer to me again as 'the future Mrs. Bobby Tom,' do you understand? Because if you say that just once, just once, I will personally tell the entire world that our engagement is a fraud. Furthermore, I will announce that you are-are-" Her mouth opened and closed, She's stared out strong, but now she couldn't think of anything terrible enough to throw at him.An ax murderer?" he offered helpfully.When she didn't reply, he tried again. " A vegetarian?"It came to her in a flash. "Impotent!”

“For all your talk, you don't know the first thing about love." Tears spilled over her lashes and rolled down her cheeks. She slipped the chain that held his Super Bowl ring over her head and pressed it into his palm. "I love you, Bobby Tom, and I'll love you till the day I die. But I've never been for sale. I was a free offering all along.”

“Steeling herself, she rose out of her chair, looped her arm around Kenny’s neck, and planted herself in his lap.He lifted an eyebrow. “Have I missed something?” She curled her mouth into what she hoped was a seductive smile and tried to speak without moving her lips. “Kiss me at once.”“No,” he said indignantly.“Why not?”“Because I don’t like your attitude.”She had been a bit bossy, but that was only because she was nervous. “I apologize.”His eyes settled on her mouth. “Okay, I’ll kiss you.”The burly man turned away, and she immediately ejected from Kenny’s lap.”

“I like to get input from the ladies when I shop.” He grabbed a navy T-shirt and studied the il ustration, a cartoon drawing of a woman with enormousbreasts and a rocket launcher between her legs.“That would be a definite no,” she said.“I like it.” He tossed it over his shoulder and began thumbing through a stack of jeans.“I thought you wanted my input.”He stared at her blankly. “Why’d you think that?” She gave up.”

“Take it off first, soldier." He looked at her suspiciously. "Take what off?" "Your clothes. Entertain the troops." "My clothes?" He frowned. "I was sort of thinking you might want to do that for me." She shook her head and leaned back on one elbow, giving him her witchiest, bitchiest smile. "Strip." "Now, listen here, Francie--" Lifting a languid hand, she once again pointed toward the center of the room. "Do it real slow, good-looking," she purred. "I want to enjoy every minute.”