Julie James Quotes

You came along and changed everything. I don't want to be some guy you're fooling around with anymore, Rylann. I want to be with you all the way.

AS IT TURNED out, Rylann wasn't quite as good as she'd thought she was.
Over the last five years she'd prosecuted cases, she'd become quite skilled at reading defendants and their lawyers at the initial court
appearance. Given Quinn's obvious nervousness, she'd originally predicted that his lawyer would be calling her within two weeks to negotiate a
plea agreement.
Instead, it took him two weeks and three days to make that call.

If you also thinks it means I wake up every morning wondering what I did to deserve having you back in my life, well, you'd be right about that too.

Never send a boy to do a woman's job, Irma. - Payton Kendall

Now anyone who has ever been on a blind date is well familiar with "The Moment" - that moment where you first walk into the bar or restaurant or coffee shop and scan the crowd and suddenly your heart stops and you say to yourself: oh, please - let it be him.

It's a truth universally acknowledged that an FBI special agent in possession of great skill and talent is likely to engage in trash talk every now and then.

I'd like to know more about this undercover agent who posed as my daughter's date. The ubiquitous Tall, Dark, and Smoldering.'
Nick put on his best meet-the-parent smile. 'I generally prefer to go by Nick.

Payton grinned. "You must be Chase." As she extended her hand in introduction, she took the opportunity to give him a more thorough once-over.
He had dark wavy hair and warm brown eyes. Very Pat-rick Dempsey/McDreamy-esque. Good build, not terribly tall, maybe only five-ten-ish, but since Payton measured in at exactly five-three and one-third inch, she could work with this

Kyle worked in technology; he knew it would only be a matter of time before the video of Daniela and the A-list actor went viral and spread everywhere. So he did what any pissed-off, red-blooded computer geek would do after catching his girlfriend giving an underwater blowjob to another man: he hacked into Twitter and deleted both the video and her earlier tweet from the site. Then, raging at the world that had devolved so much in civility that 140-character breakups had become acceptable, he shut down the entire network in a denial-of-service attack that lasted two days.

And so began the Great Twitter Outage of 2011.

The Earth nearly stopped on its axis.

Panic and mayhem ensued as Twitter unsuccessfully attempted to counteract what it deemed the most sophisticated hijacking they'd ever experienced. Meanwhile, the FBI waited for either a ransom demand or political statement from the so-called "Twitter Terrorist." But neither was forthcoming, as the Twitter Terrorist had no political agenda, already was worth millions, and had most inconveniently taken off to Tijuana, Mexico to get shit-faced drunk on cheap tequila being served by an eight-fingered bartender named Esteban.

He traced his thumb over her skin. "Do you know how long I've waited for you to look at me this way?

Jack wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He whispered in her ear. He's not getting near you again, baby, I promise. No one's laying a finger on you ever again.

I love you. On intense days. On good days. On long, exhausting work days. On really strange days when I find out that I have a long-lost brother. And most of all, on days when you make me smile, which happens to be every day I'm with you. You are not just a big-picture girl for me, Brooke Parker. You're the only picture.

You probably should get back out there. You're ignoring your other guests."
"Screw them."
"I'm sure that many of them, you already have.

It's also quite possible she still detests me."

Tyler dismissed this with a wave. "You're going to let a thing like that stop you?"

"I was thinking intense despisement might be an obstacle in pursuing her, yes."

"No, see, that's what makes it all the more interesting," Tyler said. He adopted a grandly dramatic tone. "'Does our fair Ms. Kendall truly loathe the arrogant Mr. Jameson as she so ardently proclaims, or is it all just a charade to cover more amorous feelings for a man she reluctantly admires?'"

Up front, the cabdriver snorted loudly. He appeared to be enjoying the show.

"Psych 101 again?" J.D. asked.

Tyler shook his head. "Lit 305: Eighteenth-Century Women's Fiction." He caughtJ.D.'s look and quickly defended himself. "What? I took it because of the girls in the class. Anyway, I see a bit of a P and P dynamic going on between you and Payton."

J.D. didn't think he wanted to know. Really. But he asked anyway. "P and P?"

Tyler shot him a look, appalled. "Uh, hello - Pride and Prejudice?" His tone said only a cretin wouldn't know this.

"Oh right, P and P," J.D. said. "You know, Tyler, you might want to pick up your balls - I think they just fell right off when you said that."

Up front, the cabdriver let out a good snicker.

See you just don't understand women the way I do J.D. They want it all: a career apple martinis financial independence great shoes but at the same time - and this they'll never admit - they are drawn to patriarchal men who are dominant and controlling. That's the essence of the Darcy complex. He may be an asshole but he's an asshole that gets the girl in the end.

Can we just give the guy a good ass-kicking and be done with it ?"
"Unfortunately, I think they expect us to be gentlemen here."
"So we'll put on suits and ties before we kick his ass.

Is it as bad out there as they say it is?" he asked. "From my six-inch window, it looks like we got hit with one hell of a storm."

"It took me nearly an hour to shovel the sidewalk this morning," Jordan said.

Kyle brushed his neck-length dark blond hair off his face. "See? That's one of the positives of being in prison. No shoveling."

Her brother had long ago set the rules regarding their visits. Jokes about being in prison were expected and encouraged, sympathy was not. Which was good for both of them, considering her family had never done particularly well with the mushy and sentimental stuff.

"You live in a penthouse condo and haven't shoveled snow for years," she pointed out.

"A deliberate choice I made because of the trauma of my youth," Kyle said. "Remember how Dad used to make me shovel the whole block every time it snowed? I was eight when he came up with that plan - barely taller than the shovel."

"And I got to stay inside making hot chocolate with Mom." Jordan waved off the retort she saw coming. "Hey, it was good for you - it built character." She paused for a moment, taking in their steel-barred surroundings. "Maybe Dad should've made you shovel the next block over, too."

"That's cute."

"I thought so.

If you think it means I'm asking you to move in with me, you'd be right." Her expression turned more serious. "If you also think it means that I wake up every morning wondering what I did to deserve having you back in my life, well, you'd be right about that, too."
Jack just sat there for a moment, just ... stunned. No one had ever said anything like that to him.
"Come here," he said huskily. He grabbed her chair and pulled it toward his. He kissed her, softly at first, then his hand moved to her back and pushed her close as his emotions got the better of him. He pulled back to hold her gaze. "I love you, Cameron. You know that, right?"
She kissed him back, whispering the words in his ear. "I love you, too.

- I hate to break this to you, Cameron, but you are only human.
- Shh ... I've been trying to keep that under wraps for years.

Please. Like a little hangover's going to get in the way of a man in love."
"Aw. That's very romantic," Rylann said.
"Plus, I haven't gotten laid in two months, and the reunion sex is awesome."
"And there's the Shane we know and love.

So you're calling to brag that you were right. Imagine that."

"Actually, I'm calling about that favor you owe me."

Interesting. "I still don't recall ever agreeing to that."

"Give it a moment," she said. "I'm sure it will come back to you."

There was a long pause, until Brooke spoke again. "Hello? Are you there?"

"Sorry. I was giving it a moment. Nope, still no recollection."

She sighed. "I woefully underestimated how painful this conversation was going to be.

I've licked stamps who were more excited than you by that kiss.

Special Agent Pallas. Just the man I was looking for.' Cameron went to fold her arms across her chest, then seemed to realize - nope, no room there. 'What is this I hear about someone saying that my employees need to stay out of my way or risk an untimely death by paper clip?' Next to Jack, Agent Sam Wilkins looked up at the ceiling, speaking under his breath. 'I told you that would not go over well ... ' Jack held up his hands. 'It was a joke.' 'A joke.' Cameron's gaze went to Sam. 'Agent Wilkins. Was Agent Pallas scowling or smiling at the time of this alleged joke?' 'I plead the fifth.' 'A paralegal practically dove headfirst into a cubicle to get out of my way, Jack. So no more jokes.

I've been wondering something. Don't take this the wrong way."
"Never in the history of humankind has a man ever managed to not say something offensive after that lead-in, but if you want to take your chances, Morgan, be my guest.

More like a chocolate molten lava cake. A dessert so sinful, so luscious, so filled with inner heat it made a girl want to lick each and every crumb right off the plate. That was Jack Pallas.

Great. Okay. That, uh ... was easier than I thought."
Jack cocked his head. Wait a second ... He couldn't decide if he was pissed or really impressed. He hooked a finger into the waistband of the workout pants she'd changed into and pulled her closer. "Did you fake me out with those tears, Cameron?"
She peered up at him, defiantly, seemingly outraged by the suggestion. "Are you kidding? What, after the day I've had, I'm not entitled to a few tears? Sheesh."
Jack waited.
"This wedding is very important to me
I can't believe you're even doubting me. Honestly, Jack, the tears were real."
He waited some more. She would talk eventually. They always did.
Cameron shifted under the weight of his stare. "Okay, fine. Some of the tears were real." She looked him over, annoyed. "You are really good at that."
He grinned. "I know.

You are really starting to annoy me, Stanton."
Nick didn't blink. "Good. By the end of the night I hope to finish the job.

You know, Taylor, I told his manager that your reputation in this firm is that you can go head-to-head with any man. And win.

She asked him the question she had been asking herself for the past few days. "Why are you being so nice to me now?" J.D. leaned forward in his chair. He gazed directly into her eyes, and Payton suddenly found herself wondering why it had taken him eight years to look at her that way.
"Because you're letting me," he said softly.

Taylor: "Show me your craftiness. I'll give you one question."
Jeremy: "I'm a big believer in first impressions," he finally said. "Tell me what your first thought was when Jason walked into the courtroom."
Taylor: "I vowed to hate him forever."
Jeremy: "That's exactly what I said nineteen years ago, five minutes after he first walked into our dorm room."
...
Jason : "Did I miss something?"
Taylor: "You're a bit older than I thought, Jason Andrews."
Jason glanced quickly at Jeremy, who held up his hands innocently.
Jeremy: "I swear, she forced it out of me.

Cade stood midfield, waiting for Zach to take his place at the line of scrimmage.

"When's the last time you threw a football?" Zach asked worriedly.

Aside from the few times Cade had tossed one around casually with friends, a long time. "About twelve years."

Zach threw him a panicked look.

"I won't push it," Cade said. It wasn't as if his shoulder was entirely unusable; in fact, on a daily basis it didn't bother him at all. His rotator cuff simply couldn't withstand the repetitive stress of competitive football. "I just want to see what I can do." He pointed emphatically. "And if the answer is 'not much,' you better not tell a soul. I've got a reputation to uphold here."

Zach smiled, loosening up. "All right. I don't want to stand in the way of you reliving your glory days or whatever."

"Good. But in case this all goes south, my car keys are in the outside pocket of my duffle bag. When you drive me to the emergency room, if I'm too busy mumbling incoherently from the pain, just tell them I've got Blue Cross Blue Shield insurance."

Zach's eyes went wide.

"I'm kidding, Zach. Now get moving.

Don't get me wrong. I love a Denver omelette as much as the next girl. But I'm curious whether that's your thing, or if you try to change up the routine depending on the specific woman. You know ... like, green pepper because I have green eyes, ham because I'm so funny, and onions for all the tears you'll shed after I leave.

I invited a few people to help celebrate your birthday," Cameron said sheepishly. She threw up her hands. "Surprise."
"We sort of come with the package," Collin explained. "Think of it as a collective gift from all of us to you: five bona fide annoying and overly intrusive new best friends."
"It's the gift that keeps on giving," Wilkins said.
Jack grinned. "I'm touched. Really. And since it appears I'm going to be moving in, let me be the first to say that all of you are always welcome at my and Cameron's house. Subject to a minimum of forty-eight hours prior notification.

It was time to break out the don't-fuck-with-me face.

Cameron threw her hands up in frustration. "What is this so-called 'look'?" Whatever it was, she was going to have to start taking extreme measures to guard against it.
Amy grinned. "You know the Tom and Jerry cartoon where Tom hasn't eaten for days and he imagines Jerry looking like a ham? Kind of like that.

John turned to her, with streaks of dried blood along his face. "Thank goodness we got the easy job.

Getting comfortable, he slipped off his suit jacket and made one last call for the night.

"So? Is Jordan on board?" Davis asked.

"Of course. Eckhart's not going to slip away that easily. But there's a catch." Nick eased onto the bed. "I'm calling in that favor you owe me. The one that just tripled in magnitude because of this mess you roped me into."

Davis sounded surprised. And a little suspicious. "What kind of favor?"

"Do we still have Agent Griegs in play?" Nick asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"This will involve him, too."

Davis sighed. "I'm not going to like this favor, am I?"

"Probably not," Nick said. "But I debated between this and having you call my mother to explain that it's your fault I can't make it to her sixtieth birthday party. You pick. But I should warn you: my mother is Italian. New York Italian, which is like being five hundred percent Italian."

Davis swore under his breath. "The hell with that. I'll get ahold of Griegs.

Jack knelt at the floor in front of her. "You did so great. Cutting off the power was the smartest thing anyone could've done in that situation."

She wiped her eyes. "Right, I'm such a hero. You dove off a thirty-five-foot staircase. I turned off a light switch."

"It . . . was a very key light switch.

She hoped the menfolk were having a nice, relaxing road trip in that souped-up man car they were riding in because as soon as they got to the Roberts' house, she was pawning off the woman formerly known as her sister onto the dude whose sperm had apparently turned her into a she-devil.

He growled low in his throat. "I don't think I can do this the nice way, Jessica.

And after that, he'd probably tell you that if he ever finds a girl who fits him as perfectly as Brooke fits you, that he hopes you're a good enough friend to say, 'Dude, get over your shit, get off your ass, and go talk to her.

So why do you need me?"

"To make sure Huxley isn't in over his head. It's his first undercover assignment. I don't like holding back an agent, and Huxley hasn't given me any reason to do that here. Everyone has to have his or her first undercover assignment sometime. But the U.S. attorney has her eye on this case, and that means there's no room for error."

"Is there ever room for error in any of your cases?"

Davis acknowledged that with a grin. "No. But this time, there's particularly no room for error. It's the way I classify things: basically no room for error, no room for error, and particularly no room for error. It's very technical.

YOU NEVER THANKED ME FOR THE BURGER. INGRATE.

He checked his work e-mail and fired off a few quick replies. About ten minutes later, he got a text message from Brooke.

SOMEBODY WOULD'VE BEEN THANKED IN PERSON, IF HE HADN'T STORMED OUT OF MY OFFICE AS PART OF SOME CRANKY-MAN TIRADE.

He smiled while replying.

OUT OF THE KINDNESS OF MY HEART, I'LL LET YOU THANK ME IN PERSON OVER DINNER TONIGHT. GOT GOOD NEWS TODAY, NEED TO CELEBRATE.

JUST HOW GOOD IS THIS GOOD NEWS? she wrote back.

Cade thought about that. ON A SCALE OF MEH TO HOLY-SHIT-I-JUST-WON-THE-ROSE-BOWL, I'D SAY THIS COMES IN AT REALLY DAMN COOL.

Your approval is harder to earn ad therefore worth more than the others.

…He rocked against her, his body shuddering against hers again and again, until he collapsed on top of her and buried his face in her hair.

Brooke felt his heart beating against her chest as they lay there, boneless. For two people who preferred to speak in quips and sarcasm, that had been unexpectedly…intense.

She wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

Then Cade spoke.

"I think this is the first time I've ever used this table," he said, against her neck.

Brooke began to laugh. My God, he was still inside her and she was already giggling. "I take it you don't do a lot of formal entertaining."

He pulled back, his dark hair falling across his forehead. "Were you not entertained, Ms. Parker?

When do you leave?" she asked.
His fingers paused. "Labor Day weekend."
So soon. Only two and a half weeks away. She nodded, going for a joke. "Good. That's about when I was planning on getting sick of you, anyway."
"Pfft. I'm already counting down the minutes until I can make my escape from this room."
"It's your room.

Ever hear of a telephone, asshole?

Then his gaze shifted to the wild bush sprouting from her head. "Wow. Did I do that to your hair?" He looked oddly pleased at the thought.
Rylann made a mental note to throw a flat iron in her purse the next time she had sex in the shower with a billionaire ex-con. Not that there was
going to be a next time. "Not all of us are lucky enough to have freakishly perfect, shampoo-commercial hair. This is what happens when I get wet."
His expression turned wicked. "I know exactly what happens when you get wet, counselor."
Yep, she'd walked right into that one.

FRIDAY MORNING, CADE met with Cameron and Nick McCall, the special agent in charge of the FBI's Chicago office, to get him up to speed on the status of all open FBI investigations. It was the last agency they needed to cover - after this, Cade would be fully briefed and ready to take over as acting U.S. attorney.

They'd been going for over an hour when Cameron stood up from her desk. She took a deep breath and put her hands on her lower back, which parted her suit jacket over her very pregnant stomach.

Cade and Nick exchanged looks, speaking in silent man-code, as was necessary in such circumstances.

You've got this, right, if she goes into labor here?

You're asking me? No, I don't have this.

"You boys can stop staring at me like I'm a ticking bomb about to explode."

Busted.

"I just need to stand for a few minutes

You amaze me, Cameron."

That got a slight smile out of her. "High praise, coming from someone who knows how to kill people with paper clips and everything."

Jack looked over in surprise. "You know about the paper clips?" He stroked his chin. "Hmm. Now that was good. Even for me."

Cameron stared at him, stupefied.

He laughed. "I'm just kidding." Mostly. Staples maybe, but never paper clips.

Not the way things typically went when he hit on a woman - not to toot his own horn, but women really dug the FBI thing - but, oh well. It wasn't like he was ever going to see her again.

I think we need a little more rallying around the dumpee. If you were a woman and I'd told you that the third guy in eighteen months had broken up with me, right now we'd be drinking lemon drop martinis and giving each other female empowerment pep talks about how we don't need a man in our lives to feel complete. And then we'd watch The Notebook and drool over Ryan Gosling."
"Sorry, babe. But when they handed out best friends you drew the straw with a penis attached. That means no Ryan Gosling.

Laney held up a hand. "I checked it out. He went there on scholarship and paid the rest with student loans. And he's good looking, too. Nate and I met him for dinner last night, and I subtly learned that he's looking to meet someone"
"How did you learn that?"
"I asked him if he was looking to meet someone"
"that is subtle

Mom," Vaughn said. "I'm sure Sidney doesn't want to be interrogated about her personal life."

Deep down, Sidney knew that Vaughn - who'd obviously deduced that she'd been burned in the past - was only trying to be polite. But that was the problem, she didn't want him to be polite, as if she needed to be shielded from such questions. That wasn't any better than the damn "Poor Sidney" head-tilt.

"It's okay, I don't mind answering." She turned to Kathleen. "I was seeing someone in New York, but that relationship ended shortly before I moved to Chicago."

"So now that you're single again, what kind of man are you looking for? Vaughn?" Kathleen pointed. "Could you pass the creamer?"

He did so, then turned to look once again at Sidney. His lips curved at the corners, the barest hint of a smile. He was daring her, she knew, waiting for her to back away from his mother's questions.

She never had been very good at resisting his dares.

"Actually, I have a list of things I'm looking for." Sidney took a sip of her coffee.

Vaughn raised an eyebrow. "You have a list?"

"Yep."

"Of course you do."

Isabelle looked over, surprised. "You never told me about this."

"What kind of list?" Kathleen asked interestedly.

"It's a test, really," Sidney said. "A list of characteristics that indicate whether a man is ready for a serious relationship. It helps weed out the commit

You see Matt and Anthony every week. You see everyone every week."

"Not everyone, Nick," his mother said pointedly. Then her voice changed and turned warmer. "Well, except for this upcoming weekend."

Nick paused at this. It could've been a trap. Perhaps his mother suspected something was up with her birthday and was fishing for information. Although it was surprising that she'd come to him - she usually went after Anthony, who had the secret-keeping skills of a four-year-old.

"Why? What's happening this weekend?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Oh, nothing much. I just heard something about a sixtieth birthday party your father and you boys are planning for me."

Fucking Anthony.

"And don't go blaming Anthony," his mother said, quick to protect her youngest. "I'd already heard about it from your aunt Donna before he slipped."

Nick knew what her next question would be before the words left her mouth.

"So? Are you bringing a date?" she asked.

"Sorry, Ma. It'll just be me."

"There's a surprise."

He pulled into the driveway that led to the parking garage of his condo building. "Just a warning, I'm about to pull into the garage - I might lose you."

"How convenient," his mother said. "Because I had a really nice lecture planned for you."

"Let me guess the highlights: it involved me needing to focus on something other than work, and you dying heartbro

Probably, we should all hate you," he was saying to Cade. "Illinois played against Northwestern that year for our homecoming, and you totally slaughtered us - " He broke off at the sound of a knock on the interior door to the suite.

A woman in her early twenties, dressed in a skirt and a black T-shirt with "Sterling Restaurants" in red letters, walked into the suite pushing a three-tiered dessert cart.

"Sweet Jesus, it's here," Charlie whispered reverently.

Brooke fought back a smile. The dessert cart was something Sterling Restaurants had introduced a year ago, as a perk for all of the skyboxes and luxury suites at the sports arenas they collaborated with. Needless to say, it had been a huge success. Four kinds of cake (chocolate with toffee glaze, carrot cake, traditional cheesecake, and a pineapple-raspberry tart), three types of cookies (chocolate chip, M&M, and oatmeal raisin), blond brownies, dark chocolate brownies, lemon squares, peach cobbler, four kinds of dessert liquors, taffy apples, and, on the third tier, a make-your-own sundae bar with all the fixings.

"Wow. That is some spread," Vaughn said, wide-eyed.

Simultaneously, the men sprang forward, bulldozed their way through the suite door, and attacked the cart like a pack of starving Survivor contestants.

All except for one.

Cade stayed right there, on the terrace. He leaned back against the railing, stretching out his tall, broad-sh

Still, the logical part of her realized that the hazel-eyed, dark-scruff iteration of This Guy who sat
across from her right then hadn't actually done anything wrong to her. Because of that, she smiled in
an effort to be polite. "That's nice of you to ask. But, unfortunately, I'm going to have to say no."
"Great." He nodded, as if expecting this very answer. Then his brow furrowed, and he cocked his
head. "Wait - what?"
Sidney bit her lip to hold back a laugh. Ah ... when she told this story later to Trish, the perplexed
look on this guy's face would be the highlight.

Hopefully when he moved his things out of the apartment, he at least took his CDs. I mean, we might be gay, but ... Enya? Really?

You're right," she acknowledged. "I don't know you,
really. We spent all of about thirty minutes together
nearly a decade ago. Still, I think the Kyle Rhodes
who walked me home and gave me the shirt off his
back would do the right thing no matter how pissed
he was at my office. So if that guy is hanging around
this penthouse anywhere, tell him to call me.

Sitting next to her, Amy was wide-eyed, mesmerized at the sight of Jack heading over in all his seemingly pissed-off-once-again glory. I changed my mind, Cam. If this was all a big setup and he's coming over to strip for me, I think I can handle it. I definitely can handle it.

Then I should be able to say anything I want, right? Even the word 'penis'?"
Laney sighed. "Do we have to do this right now?"
You should try saying the word sometime."
I'll pass, thank you."
Payton shrugged. "Your choice, but I think you'd find it liberating. Everybody could use a good 'penis' now and then."
Laney glanced nervously around the coffee shop. "People are listening."
Sorry - you're right. Good rule of thumb: if you're gonna throw out a 'penis' in a public place, it should be soft. Otherwise it attracts too much attention."
The woman at the next table gaped at them.

Say she had nefarious motives."
Davis looked over at Jack with a bemused grin. "Nefarious. This is what we get when we hire a
Yale boy."
"You missed sacrosanct earlier. And taciturn and glowering," Jack said.
"What's glowering?"
"Me, apparently.

Davis" title="Julie James Quotes: Say she had nefarious motives."
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The thought sent chills running down her spine.
Or, Cameron supposed, maybe the chill had something to do with the fact that she was still standing in the air-conditioned hallway wearing nothing but her T-shirt and underwear.
Classy.

Purple Hair stopped dusting blush over Cameron's cheeks. "Hold up. Are you talking about the dark-haired guy who came in with you? The one who searched me before I could do your makeup?" Cameron grimaced. "Sorry about that." "Don't be - it was the highlight of my month." Purple Hair threw her a get-real stare. "That's the guy you're holding out on? Sweetie, you need to grab that stallion and ride him like a cowgirl.

Hopefully not another employee stealing credit cards, Brooke mused. Or any sort of headache-inducing "oops moment," like the time one of the restaurant managers called to ask if he could fire a line cook after discovering that the man was a convicted murderer.

"Jeez. How'd you learn that?" Brooke had asked.

"He made a joke to one of the waiters about honing his cooking skills in prison. The waiter asked what he'd been serving time for, and he said, 'Murder.'"

"I bet that put an end to the conversation real fast. And yes, you can fire him," Brooke had said.

"Obviously, he lied on his employment application." All of Sterling's employees, regardless of job position, were required to answer whether they'd ever been convicted of a crime involving "violence, deceit, or theft." Pretty safe to say that murder qualified.

Ten minutes later, the manager had called her back.
"Um . . . what if he didn't exactly lie? I just double-checked his application, and as it turns out, he did check the box for having been convicted of a crime."

Brooke had paused at that. "And then the next question, where we ask what crime he'd been convicted for, what did he write?"

"Uh . . . 'second-degree murder.'"

"I see. Just a crazy suggestion here, Cory, but you might want to start reading these applications a little more closely before making employment offers."

"Please don't fire me.

I may or may not
have once tossed a guy out of her store for flirting
with her.Total douchebag. Wore a
scarf indoors. -Nick

Jack leaned over, "Ever get the impression that these women are way out of our league?"
"I shot the last guy who said that to me.

No use crying over spilled Prosecco.

I'm not sure I trust myself around you I liked you from the start, J.D. I really wish things had been different, that's all.

All right. So I'm physically attracted to Jack," Cameron conceded. It was a big step for her to admit even that much out loud. "Who wouldn't be? You've seen him."

"Rugged hotness, sex in a shoulder harness - yep, I'm familiar.

It should've been illegal for a man to walk around like that without some sort of permit.

BROOKE PARKER STEPPED up to the bar at The Shore restaurant, ready to place her lunch order. The bartender, however, beat her to the punch.

"Hey, it's my favorite customer - Chicken Tacos, Extra Pico." He flashed her a grin. "That's my nickname for you."

Yes, she got that. "I suppose I've been called worse," Brooke said as the bartender moved to the cash register to ring her up.

The bastard - no other name was necessary, from now on the man formerly known as J.D. would simply be called The Bastard, The Prick, or The Shithead.

Good. Or instead, what if I just told you that I love you?" Payton gazed
into his eyes. "What would you say, J. D. Jameson, if I told you that?"
J.D. smiled. He touched his forehead to Payton's, closed his eyes, and
answered her with one word.
"Finally.

She spoke under her breath to Nick. "Is there a reason he's only wearing one sock?" "He puked on his foot." "Oh." She turned back to Huxley. "Can we get you another sock? Maybe a blanket or something?

With a chuckle, Jack mumbled under his breath to Nick. 'It's like watching the preppy, well-bred versions of you and me trash-talking.

He maybe, possibly, said that if he got word of anyone getting in your way, they'd find out whether there was any truth to the rumor about him knowing how to kill a man with paper clips.

He reached up and stroked her uninjured cheek. "If you need me, I won't leave your side. I promise..."

THEY MADE HIM leave her side.

Due to so-called hospital "policy" and "safety regulations" - aka a load of bullshit - they wouldn't let Nick accompany Jordan into the X-ray room. He was debating whether to pull out his gun or his FBI badge - figuring one of them ought to do the trick - when Jordan squeezed his hand.

"I'll be fine. Maybe you could try to round me up a Vicodin or something for my wrist?" she suggested.

He threw her a knowing look. "You're trying to distract me."

"Yes. Because I see you making the don't-fuck-with-me face. And if you start shooting people, they'll get bumped ahead of me in the X-ray line, and then I'll really be screwed.

Help me out here, Jeremy," she said pleadingly.
He gave her a look. "Why should I do that?"
"Because once, nineteen years ago, you were wrong about him, too."
Jeremy stared at her stoically. After a long pause, his face broke into a smile.
"Aw, hell, you crazy kid, you knew I was gonna let you in - I'm a sucker for this stuff.

But if it makes you feel better, I don't give a fuck what comes through that door. They're not getting to you.

What about you? I know you're not married. Are you seeing anyone or anything?"

An image of Brooke sleeping in his bed popped into Cade's head. Then a second image came to mind, of her giving him the "text me" speech at his front door. "Nothing serious."

"Really? 'Cuz you paused there."

If one more person commented on these damn alleged pauses . . . "Just eat your lunch," Cade said.

With a grin, Zach threw Cade's words back at him. "If you're having trouble talking to some girl, maybe you need to find another way to tell her how you feel."

"I know how to talk to her just fine."

"Maybe you're not saying the right things, then."

"Can we change the subject?" Cade ran his hand through his hair. "You're sixteen years old. Trust me, relationships get a lot more complicated when you're an adult."

"Is this a friends-with-benefits situation?"

"Aren't you a little young to know about friends-with-benefits situations?"

"I didn't say I was partaking in them myself," Zach said. "But shockingly, yes, I have heard of scenarios in which adults engage in intercourse without riding off into the sunset together."

Cade tried to decide how best to sum up the situation with Brooke. "There is a woman. We are friendly. There have been benefits."

"Do you like her?"

Cade gestured with his burger. "Of course I like her. She's, like, the smartest, wittiest, woman

She didn't know what to make of the fact that Vaughn had gone through such efforts for her. Part of
her was tempted to call him right then, but she was confused and trying not to read too much into the
situation, and feeling very uncertain about a lot of things. But Ginny's visit definitely had made one
thing clear, something Sidney could no longer deny, no matter how hard she tried.
She missed him.

You're sixteen years old. Trust me, relationships get a lot more complicated when you're an adult."
"Is this a friends-with-benefits situation?"
"Aren't you a little young to know about friends-with-benefits situations?"
"I didn't say I was partaking in them myself," Zach said. "But shockingly, yes, I have heard of scenarios in which adults engage in intercourse without riding off into the sunset together.

Despite the fact that she was essentially comatose, she somehow made his whole house feel different just by being there. Before it had been just a house - a very impressive house no doubt, but a house nonetheless. But for some reason, with Taylor there it felt more like a home.

He raised his voice over the crowd's roar and gestured to Cade's phone. "Good news?"
Cade tucked the phone back into his pocket. "She said yes."
Vaughn blinked - clearly having expected Cade to say something else - then threw out his hands. He had no clue what they were talking about, but right then everything was a cause for celebration. "She said yes! Hell, yeah!" He grabbed Huxley and pointed to Cade, shouting over the crowd. "She said yes."
"Sweet," Huxley said, tapping his beer to Cade's. "Who said yes?"
"Brooke Parker. I'm seeing her tonight."
"Fuck you," Vaughn said, somewhat in awe. "I knew it. You've been digging her from the moment she told you to shove your obstruction of justice threats up your ass."
"What can I say? I'm a sucker for the shy, quiet types.

Cade studied her for a moment, then sat forward in his chair. "Seriously, what is it about this guy? He's just a rich computer geek with good hair."

Rylann smiled. "I think there's a little more to it than that."

"Christ, you are smitten." He threw up his hands. "What is going on with everyone these days? Sam Wilkins is babbling about a meet-cute, Cameron's sneaking off to get hitched, and now you're all starry-eyed over the Twitter Terrorist. Has everyone been sneaking happy pills out of the evidence room when I'm not looking?"

"No, just some really good pot."

Cade laughed out loud at that. "You are a funny one, Pierce. I'll say that."

"So does that mean we're still on for Starbucks later today?"

He studied her suspiciously. "You're not going to want to talk about Kyle Rhodes the whole time, are you?"

"Actually, yes. And then we'll go shoe shopping together and get mani-pedis." She threw him a get-real look. "We'll talk about the same stuff we always talk about."

With a grin, he finally nodded. "Fine. Three o'clock, Pierce. I'll swing by your office

She nodded approvingly at Kyle. "I like her already."
"Jordo ... " he said warningly.
"What? That was a compliment." She turned back to Rylann. "Question: you're not secretly a money-grubbing skank, are you?"
Kyle looked pained. "My God, Jordan."
"What? It's a fair question given your past predilections.

You're tough when you need to be, and you can charm the pants off men who have three times your experience.
Well, yes. Although I try not to take advantage of that too often. Very awkward negotiating with people who are sitting around in their underwear.

The innkeeper
pointed between Vaughn and Sidney. "Have you two been together long?"
Sidney blinked, then gestured at Vaughn. "Him and me?" She laughed. "Oh, no. Noooo, no, no."
Vaughn smiled at Lauren, nonplussed. "In case you missed it, that would be a no.

And listen
tell your friend to try English Breakfast net time. It's a little more robust. Earl Grey is really more of a 'Sense and Sensibility' kind of tea.
Cab driver to J.D. Jameson

It may have taken nine years, and a whole lot of wrong turns along the way, but their story felt complete at last.
Because, finally, she was his.

One of the few times I've ever wished for a penis," she said to Rae when the bartender stepped up to take the order of yet another male customer. They'd been waiting to be served for over twenty minutes. She'd even worn the red magic boob dress tonight, but unfortunately, its mojo offered no help in this particular situation.
"You haven't had sex in six months," Rae said. "If I were you, I'd be wishing for penises every night.

Her eyes widened as he guided her backward until she was trapped against the bed. He turned her around so that she faced it.
"You remember when we met, how you told me off in your office? Ever since then, I've wanted something." He smoothed his hands up her legs and pushed up her skirt. With one sharp tug, he ripped her lacy thong and tossed it to the floor. "You at my mercy."
He heard the excited catch of her breath and bent his head to murmur in her ear. "Good thing you still have those heels on.

One more second and he would've hit you with the gun. And who knows what else. When I think about what could've happened ... " He gripped her shoulders determinedly. "I should've told you this earlier, Jordan. Now that I've got my chance, you're going to hear it whether you like it or not. You came into my life and messed the whole thing up and now I'm screwed. Because I'm in love with you. As in balls-out, head-over-heels, watching-Dancing-with-the-Stars -on-Monday-nights, wine-and-bubble-bath kind of love. Hell, I think I'd even wear a scarf indoors for you."
Jordan smiled, her eyes misty, as she touched his cheek. "That's the best kind of love.

Yes, Taylor learned at a very young age that the only way to get boys to shut up and play fairly was to show them that you took crap from no one.

Kids, Roberts," she said, just to be clear. "I have fertile eggs in me, and I'm talking about having
babies."
She waited for the eye twitch. Or hell, even a tiny twinge.
Instead, with a smile, he pulled her in for a kiss.

Then she would be done with J. D. Jameson forever. No more having to prove herself; no more of those pesky jitters she felt whenever she saw him at work - something like butterflies in her stomach, it was actually quite annoying; no more stress; no more fights in the library; and definitely no more sexy I'm-gonna-kiss-you-now-woman blue-eyed heated gazes.
She had no idea why she just thought that.

But come on - tell me the proposal story, anyway."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really. Just keep in mind that I'm a guy, which means I'm genetically predisposed to think that whatever mushy romantic tale you're about to tell me is highly cheesy."

Rylann laughed. "I'll keep it simple, then." She rested her drink on the table. "Well, you already heard how Kyle picked me up at the courthouse after my trial. He said he wanted to surprise me with a vacation because I'd been working so hard, but that we needed to drive to Champaign first to meet with his former mentor, the head of the U of I Department of Computer Sciences, to discuss some project Kyle was working on for a client." She held up a sparkly hand, nearly blinding Cade and probably half of the other Starbucks patrons. "In hindsight, yes, that sounds a little fishy, but what do I know about all this network security stuff? He had his laptop out, there was some talk about malicious payloads and Trojan horse attacks - it all sounded legitimate enough at the time."

"Remind me, while I'm acting U.S. attorney, not to assign you to any cybercrime cases."

"Anyhow. . . we get to Champaign, which as it so happens, is where Kyle and I first met ten years ago. And the limo turns onto the street where I used to live while in law school, and Kyle asks the driver to pull over because he wants to see the place for old time's sake. So we get out of the limo, and he's making thi

Holy fuck - would somebody please tell him why a massive photo of a penis was sitting front and center in the courtroom?

Vaughn had his back to the entrance, so he turned around to look.
No.
Fucking.
Way.
It was the cantankerous Ms. Doe.
Catching sight of him in that very same moment, she stopped dead in her tracks. Vaughn was pretty
sure she muttered Oh shit under her breath.
His sentiments exactly.