“So where's my hug.”

“I’m not a big drinker and I’ve had enough secondhand smoke for this decade and the next, so . . .”Great. All she had to do was complain about the deafening volume of the music, and she might as well slap a sticker on her forehead saying old next to the one that already said nerd.“Band’s good, though,” she added. “Country’s not my thing, but the players are . . . proficient.” And great, now she sounded like a professor. Proficient. God.But he was nodding. “Country’s not my thing, either.”“But you have a cowboy hat,” she said, and as soon as the words left her lips, she realized how stupid she sounded, no—not that she sounded, but that she was.”

“Mol, it's not probably nothing if they fucking want you to go to Germany."She winced, and he turned to the people-mostly women- who were filling most of those waiting room seat."Excuse me. This doctor thinks my wife, whom I love more than life, has breast cancer, so I'm going to say fuck probably about ten more times. Is that okay with all of you?”

“During the last few hours of the trip, he and Tess had drilled procedures and done a whole lot of worst-case-scenario type war-gaming. He was now as convinced as he'd ever be that she knew what to do and where to go if Godzilla attacked Kazabek...”

“My favorite color is you.”

“Showtime,’ Jamie said, heavy on the sh. ‘You gonna tell her your real name or make something up? I always liked Ferd McGurgle. It’s not one of those names you forget, where you have to stop and think, Now, who did I say I was again, Tom Smith or Bill Jones . . .?’‘Actually,’ A.J. said, trying his best to ignore Jamie’s help, ‘you do know my name.’ He cleared his throat as she looked puzzled, that little ever-present almost-smile ready to expand across her face. He exhaled and just said it. ‘It’s Gallagher.’‘Nicely done.’ Jamie applauded. ‘Good segue, good choice—honesty. Much better than Ferd. I’m proud of you, kid.’But Allison was still puzzled, still about to smile, until she realized what he’d said. Her mouth dropped open, but she closed it fast. ‘Gallagher?’ she repeated and the smile was definitely gone. ‘As in Gallagher?’‘As in Austin James Gallagher,’ A.J. told her with a nod. ‘I’m A.J. for short. I was named after my great-grandfather.’ He lifted her file. ‘Jamie. He dropped the Austin after he came west. Too many people thought he was from Texas, which kind of pissed him off.’ He tried to make a joke. ‘He’d met a few Texans he didn’t particularly like, so . . .’Silence.Yeah.”

“We are not, not now, not ever, talking about sex,” A.J. said flatly.I had to laugh. “We’re both grown men,” I pointed out. “I don’t see what the big deal—”“Do it,” he said, “and I will walk over to the church, wake up the priest, and demand that he perform an exorcism. On the spot.”“Well, now, that won’t work,” I scoffed. “I’m not a demon. Not even close.”“Yeah, well, I’m willing to try it,” he said. “So go on. Make my day.”