Patch wasn't the kind of guy mothers smiled on. He was the kind of guy they changed the house locks for.

I should probably confess that ice cream is my favorite food, and I eat it every night. When I go grocery shopping, I try to buy a new flavor, rather than reverting back to a favorite flavor. I'm on a mission to taste every flavor of ice cream out there!

Without a word, I moved beside him.He slid the cutting board in front of me.
"First," he said, coming behind me and placing his hands on the counter, just outside of mine, "choose your tomato." He dipped his head so his mouth was at my ear. His breath was warm, tickling my skin. "Good. Now pick up the knife."
"Does the hef always stand this close?" I asked, not sure If I liked of feared the flutter his closeness caused inside me.
"When he is revealing culinary secrets, yes. Hold the knife like you mean it.

How about a ... deal?" His face was bent down, shadowed, and he looked up at me through his lashes. The effect was an impression of trustworthiness. "Help me make tacos, and I'll answer a dew of your questions.

One more thing. I sold the mustang. Too conspicuous. Don't get too excited, but I bought you a little something with the extra cash. I heard you've had your eye on a Volkswagen. The owner is dropping it by tomorrow. I paid for a full tank of gas, so make sure she delivers.

Nice try,' he murmured, his lips brushing mine as he spoke.
I nibbled his lower lip. 'If you could see into my past just by touching my back, you'd have a hard time resisting the temptation too.'
'I have a hard time keeping my hands off you without that added bonus.