“Here's a basic difference between Morelli and me. My first thought was always of cake. His first thought was always of sex. Don't get me wrong. I like sex . . . a lot. But it's never going to replace cake.”
“I don't have a lot of domestic instincts," Ranger said to me, his attention fixing on the unidentifiable glob in my hair, "but I have a real strong urge to take you home and hose you down."
I went dry mouth. Connie bit into her lower lip, and Lula fanned herself with a file.”
“I'm sorry about your Porsche."
"I can replace the Porsche. I can't replace you. You need to be more careful."
I was just sitting in your car!"
Babe, you're a magnet for disaster.”
“If I gave you a pity position it wouldn't be in my office.”
“Give me the gun." Ranger said.
I extracted the gun from my pants and handed it over.
Ranger held the gun in the pulm of his hand and smiled. "It's warm," he said. He put the gun in the glove compartment and plugged the key into the ignition.
Am I fired?"
No. Any women who can heat up a gun like that is worth keeping around.”
“Cupcake , you've been breaking my heart for as long as I've known you”
“I'd spent a night with Ranger a while ago, and I knew what happened when he was encouraged. Ranger knew how to make a woman want him. Ranger was magic.”
“Ranger cradled my face in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from my eyes. "The ceremony is over. Can you make it back to the car?"
I nodded. "I'm okay now. Am I red and blotchy from crying?"
"Yes," Ranger said, brushing a kiss across my forehead. "I love you anyway."
"There's all kinds of love," I said.
Ranger took me by the hand and led me back to the SUV. "This is the kind that doesn't call for a ring. But a condom might come in handy."
"That's not love," I told him. "That's lust.”
“For the most part, Ranger had a consistent personality.
He wasn't a guy who wasted a lot of unnecessary energy and effort. He moved and he spoke with an efficient ease that was more animal than human. And he didn't telegraph his emotions. Unless Ranger had his tongue in my mouth it was usually impossible to tell what he was thinking. But every now and then, Ranger would step out of the box, and like a little treat that was doled out on special occasions, Ranger would make an entirely outrageous sexual statement.
At least it would be outrageous coming from an ordinary guy... from Ranger it seemed on the mark.”
“Of course it's your fault," Grandma said. "You must be doing something wrong, if you know what I mean. Maybe you need to buy a book that tells you how to do it. I hear there are books out there with pictures and everything. I saw one in the store the other day. It was called A Sex Guide for Dummies.”
“That might work," I said. "I'm good at faking it."
This led to a couple moments of uncomfortable silence from both of us.
"You didn't mean... ?" Morelli asked.
"No. Of course not."
"Never?"
"Maybe once."
His eyes narrowed. "Once?"
"It's all that comes to mind. It was the time we were late for your Uncle Spud's birthday party."
"I remember that. That was great. You're telling me you faked it?"
"We were late! I couldn't concentrate. It seemed like the best way to go.”
“I plunked down on the couch beside him.
"I don't have any accomplishments of any kind. I'm stupid and boring. I don't have any hobbies. I don't play sports. I don't write poetry. I don't travel to interesting places. I don't even have a good job."
"That doesn't make you stupid and boring," Morelli said.
"Well, I feel stupid and boring. And I wanted to feel interesting. And somehow, someone told my mother and grandmother that I played the cello. I guess it was me...only it was like some foreign entity took possession of my body. I heard the words coming out of my mouth, but I'm sure they originated in some other brain. And it was so simple at first. One small mention. And then it took on a life of it's own. And next thing, everyone knew."
"And you can't play the cello."
"I'm not even sure this is a cello."
Morelli went back to smiling. "And you think you're boring? No way, Cupcake."
"What about the stupid part?"
Morelli threw his arm around me. "Sometimes that's a tough call.”
“Men!"
"At least we don't fake it."
"Listen, it was your uncle. And we were late, remember? So I made the sacrifice and got us there in time for dessert. You should be thanking me."
Morelli's mouth was open slightly and his face was registering a mixture of astonished disbelief and wounded, pissed-off male pride.
Okay, it wasn't that much of a sacrifice at the time, and I knew he shouldn't be thanking me, but give me a break here... this wasn't famine in Ethiopia”
“Go figure that. Joseph Morelli with a house, a dog, a steady job, and an SUV. And on odd days of the month he woke up wanting to marry me. It turns out want to marry him on even days of the month, so to date we've been spared commitment.”
“You shouldn’t be driving,” Morelli said to Kloughn. “I know,” Kloughn said. “I tried walking, but I was too drunk. It’s okay. I was driving very slooooowly and ’sponsibly.”
“I trudged down the stairs and stood on the sidewalk examining my car. Deep scratch in the roof from a misplaced bullet. Hole in windsheild plus embeddedbullet in passenger seat. Bashed-in right rear quarter panel and right passenger-side door from slegehammer. Previous damage from creepy gun attack by insane stalker, And someone had spray painted EAT ME on the driver's side door.
"Your car's a mess,"Lula said. "I don't know what it is with you and cars.”
“We got into the Explorer, and I couldn’t sit with the gun rammed into my pants. “I can’t do this,” I said to Ranger. “This dumb gun is too big. It’s poking me.” Ranger closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wheel. “I can’t believe I hired you.”
“I crossed the room at a run, barreled through the door to take the stairs, and crashed into Ranger. We lost balance and rolled tangled together to the fourth-floor landing. We lay there for a moment, stunned and breathless. Ranger was flat on his back, and I was on top of him.”
“my leg over the bike. Ranger was watching me, smiling. “I like the way you straddle that,” he said. “Someday . . .”
“Ranger raised my bruised and bloody wrist to his mouth and kissed it.”
“(…)jestem półprzytomnym nieszczęściem, potykającym się o własne nogi.”
“Ranger raised my bruised and bloody wrist to his mouth and kissed it. “I’m sorry to have to do this to you, but there”
“You were worried about me?” “No,” Hal said. “I was worried Ranger would kill me if I lost you.”
“I ran through the store gathering together some basic foods. Bread, cheese, Tastykakes, peanut butter, cereal, milk, Tastykakes, eggs, frozen pizza, Tastykakes, orange juice, apples, lunch meat, and Tastykakes.”
“Uh oh,” Lula said. “Here comes Officer Hottie, and he don’t look happy.” Morelli moved behind me and curled his fingers into the back of my jacket collar. “I need to talk to you . . . outside.” “I wouldn’t go if I was you,” Lula said to me. “He’s wearing his mad cop face. At least you should make him leave his gun here.” Morelli shot Lula a look, and she buried her head in the chicken bucket.”
“My first thought was always of cake. His first thought was always of sex. Don’t get me wrong. I like sex . . . a lot. But it’s never going to replace cake.”
“chicken remains, wads of paper towels, empty soup cans, lunch-meat wrappers, and God knows what else.”
“Death isn’t such a big deal when it’s happening to someone else.”
“Not everything worth keeping has to be useful.”
“I lay so still in the gloom I could hear the house breathe, and the boards of the floors whispered, conniving a way to keep me here forever.”
“People in the dark are quite different, aren’t they?”
“PSALM 115 Not to us, O LORD, not to us, but to your name give glory, for the sake of your steadfast love and your faithfulness!”
“Oh my god, Bella, what have you done?”
Bella jumped as she turned to face Nathan, seeing his wild eyes, his pale features, his hard, buff body stalking across the front yard, his chest slick with sweat, bits of the grass he had been cutting sticking to his jeans as he strode furiously to where her car met the back of his truck.
“It’s just a little dent, Nathan. I promise . . .” Her heart was in her throat. Not in hear. He would never hurt her. But he sure knew how to pout when he wanted to.
“A little dent.” He gripped her shoulders, moving her aside as he stared down at the crumpled fender as it sank into the bumper of his truck.
It was an accident. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t been wearing those butt-snug jeans and boots with no shirt as he cut the lawn, it would have never happened.
“You hit my truck.” Male pride and offended dignity filled his voice. “That’s my truck, Bella.”
Yes. It was. And he was very proud of the powerful, black four-by-four he babied worse than any woman would a child. She would be jealous if it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t actually bring it into the house.”
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