Babe I Miss You Quotes

I feel like I'm missing something really important when you're gone. So important I don't feel like myself. I've never felt like someone was mine before. But you're mine, Jocelyn. I've known that from the moment we met. And I'm yours. I don't want to be anyone else's, babe.

Asshole.” “Just for that, I expect you to wrap that dirty mouth of yours around my cock tonight.” He narrowed his eyes on me. I couldn’t believe he’d just said that to me in a fancy restaurant where anyone might overhear. “Are you kidding?” “Babe,” he gave me a look that suggested I was missing the obvious, “I never kid about blowjobs.” Our waiter had descended on us just in time to hear those romantic words and his rosy cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. “Ready to order?” he croaked out.“Yes,” Braden answered, obviously uncaring he’d been overhead. “I’ll have the steak, medium-rare.” He smiled softly at me. “What are you having?” He took a swig of water. He thought he was so cool and funny. “Apparently sausage.” Braden choked on the water, coughing into his fists, his eyes bright with mirth as he put his glass back on the table. “Are you okay, sir?” The waiter asked anxiously. “I’m fine, I’m fine.

Because..." he sighed, "You, make me laugh, you challenge me, you turn me on like no else can. I feel like I'm missing something really important when you're gone. So important I don't feel like myself. I've never felt like someone was mine before. But your mine, Jocelyn. I've known that from the moment we met. And I'm yours. I don't want to be anybody else's, babe.

I know you love me.” Wistful and filled with wonder. “I love you, too.” Somehow, it’s not enough. “For real though, babe. The only person I love more than you is myself.” A loud laugh fills the otherwise darkened room. “Oh my god, tell me you did not just say that.” Am I missing something here? “What’s so damn funny? I’m being serious.” “The only person you love more than me is you?” “Yeah, so?” “You’re ridiculous.” “But you love me?” “So much.

For crissakes, you're the frickin' poster boy for DarkRiver with your 'Gee, shucks, I'm harmless' act." Dorian was used to being ribbed about his looks. With his blond hair and blue eyes, he looked more like a surfer hanging out for the right wave than blooded DarkRiver sentinel. "Look who's talking, Miss Bikini Babe 2067.

When I took you with me to the old racetrack. I loved sharing that moment with you. It got me thinking about what a life with you would be like, then you fucking kissed me and I was doomed.” I giggle as he starts to nibble down my neck. “You destroyed me with that kiss, babe. Fucking destroyed me.

if i or anybody don't know where it her his my next meal's coming from i say to hell with that that doesn't matter (and if he she it or everybody gets a bellyful without lifting my finger i say to hell with that i say that doesn't matter) but if somebody or you are beautiful or deep or generous what i say is whistle that sing that yell that spell that out big (bigger than cosmic rays w ar earthquakes famine or the ex prince of whoses diving into a whatses to rescue miss nobody's probably handbag) because i say that's not swell (get me) babe not (understand me) lousy kid that's something else my sweet (i feel that's true)

Oh, babe, I miss you, too. Especially your comfy breasts.” She stood next to me and peered outside. “You guys could always adopt me, you know. I wouldn’t mind calling Jason Daddy at all.” “Ah,

When we met, we were two injured souls. Both keeping the real out of our lives for fear of what we might find. But nothing could have kept us apart. I never believed in destiny. Thought that was a bunch of crap for people who read too many books. Until I met you. You’re it for me, Babe. I didn’t even know I was missing something until I found you, but now I don’t know how I got through a day without what you’ve given me. You’re my soul mate. As sappy as it sounds, it’s god damn true. Nothing has ever been truer in my life. So no, I’m not worried about this fight not helping me heal from my past, because it’s you who does that for me. You’ve filled all the cracks in my heart and made me better. I never thought I’d say this after what I went through, but I’m the luckiest bastard on this earth.

Because…” he sighed, “You make me laugh, you challenge me, you turn me on like no else can. I feel like I’m missing something really important when you’re gone. So important I don’t feel like myself. I’ve never felt like someone was mine before. But you’re mine, Jocelyn. I’ve known that from the moment we met. And I’m yours. I don’t want to be anybody else’s, babe.

Hard to miss you, babe. You were the only one wearing an Elmwood jersey in the Heston student section. Ballsy move. Red looks great on you.” I swipe my tongue across my lower lip. “Bet you’d look even better in blue and green.

I can walk,” she growled. “Give me my staff. And give me a minute.” “I do not know how many more minutes we have,” he said. “My sense of time is not working well, but I think that we are very close to running out of it.” “I might still be able to enchant the babe,” said Agnes a bit doubtfully. “Even if we miss the christening. But it doesn’t take as well, not with humans. You lay a name on them and suddenly their whole future is rolled out like dough in front of you, but it doesn’t last. Life starts to bake it pretty quick.” “That,” said the dust-wife witheringly, “was a terrible analogy. Someone give me my staff so that I can beat her about the head and shoulders.” Agnes giggled.

I'm sorry, I don't understand. Could you tell me more about this 'profanity'?" Mrs. Miller nodded at my dictionary. "I'll assume you don't need a definition. Perhaps you'd prefer an example?" "That would be so helpful, thank you very much." Without missing a beat, Mrs. Miller rattled off a stream of obscenities so fully and completely unexpected that I fell off my chair. Mothers were defiled, their male and female children, as well as any and all offspring who just happened to be born out of wedlock. AS for the sacred union that produced these innocent babes, the pertinent bodily appendages were catalogued by a list of names so profoundly scurrilous that a grizzled marine, conceived in a brothel and dying of a disease he contracted in one, would've wished he'd been born as smooth as a Ken doll. The act itself was invoked with such a verity of incestuous, scatological, bestial, and just plain bizarre variations that that same marine would've given up on the Ken doll fantasy, and wished instead that all life had been confined to a single-cell stage, forever free of taint of mitosis, let alone procreation. Somewhere during the course of all this I noticed I'd snapped my pencil in half, and now I used the two ends to gouge out my brain. "Guhhhhhh guhhhhh guhhhhhh guhhhhh guhhhhh," I said, by which I meant: "You have shattered whatever tattered remnants of pedagogical propriety I still possessed, and my tender young mind has broken beneath the strain." Nervously, I climbed back into my chair, the two halves of my pencil sticking out of ears like an arrow that had shot clean through my head. Mrs. Miller allowed herself a small self-congratulatory smile.

Because you make me laugh, you challenge me, and you turn me on like no one can. I feel like I'm missing something important when you're gone. So important I don't feel myself. I've never felt like someone was mine before. But you're mine Jocelyn. I've known that from the moment we met. And I'm yours. I don't want to be anybody else's, babe.

The Three-Decker "The three-volume novel is extinct." Full thirty foot she towered from waterline to rail. It cost a watch to steer her, and a week to shorten sail; But, spite all modern notions, I found her first and best— The only certain packet for the Islands of the Blest. Fair held the breeze behind us—’twas warm with lovers’ prayers. We’d stolen wills for ballast and a crew of missing heirs. They shipped as Able Bastards till the Wicked Nurse confessed, And they worked the old three-decker to the Islands of the Blest. By ways no gaze could follow, a course unspoiled of Cook, Per Fancy, fleetest in man, our titled berths we took With maids of matchless beauty and parentage unguessed, And a Church of England parson for the Islands of the Blest. We asked no social questions—we pumped no hidden shame— We never talked obstetrics when the Little Stranger came: We left the Lord in Heaven, we left the fiends in Hell. We weren’t exactly Yussufs, but—Zuleika didn’t tell. No moral doubt assailed us, so when the port we neared, The villain had his flogging at the gangway, and we cheered. ’Twas fiddle in the forc’s’le—’twas garlands on the mast, For every one got married, and I went ashore at last. I left ’em all in couples a-kissing on the decks. I left the lovers loving and the parents signing cheques. In endless English comfort by county-folk caressed, I left the old three-decker at the Islands of the Blest! That route is barred to steamers: you’ll never lift again Our purple-painted headlands or the lordly keeps of Spain. They’re just beyond your skyline, howe’er so far you cruise In a ram-you-damn-you liner with a brace of bucking screws. Swing round your aching search-light—’twill show no haven’s peace. Ay, blow your shrieking sirens to the deaf, gray-bearded seas! Boom out the dripping oil-bags to skin the deep’s unrest— And you aren’t one knot the nearer to the Islands of the Blest! But when you’re threshing, crippled, with broken bridge and rail, At a drogue of dead convictions to hold you head to gale, Calm as the Flying Dutchman, from truck to taffrail dressed, You’ll see the old three-decker for the Islands of the Blest. You’ll see her tiering canvas in sheeted silver spread; You’ll hear the long-drawn thunder ’neath her leaping figure-head; While far, so far above you, her tall poop-lanterns shine Unvexed by wind or weather like the candles round a shrine! Hull down—hull down and under—she dwindles to a speck, With noise of pleasant music and dancing on her deck. All’s well—all’s well aboard her—she’s left you far behind, With a scent of old-world roses through the fog that ties you blind. Her crew are babes or madmen? Her port is all to make? You’re manned by Truth and Science, and you steam for steaming’s sake? Well, tinker up your engines—you know your business best— She’s taking tired people to the Islands of the Blest!

I'm afraid I've got to leave for a while. Will you be all right while I'm gone." "I'm pregnant,Ethan,not dying of the plague.I'll be quite all right while you are away." He seemed to miss the humor. "Are you certain?" "Actually,I could use a moment to myself.You've been hovering over me like a hen with a chick since the day you came home." His mouth faintly curved. "And I shall continue to do so until your babe has arrived.

That I’m in love with you? Yes. Yes, I fucking love you so damn much, Ava, it’s painful. This is why I act the way I do. And say stupid shit all the time. Maybe it’s why I push you away, because my feelings for you overwhelm me so much, I don’t know how to function as a normal human being. And then the moment I push you out of my life, I miss you so damn bad, my chest hurts.” I rub at it now, at the hollow spot between my pecs. “It misses my heart because you’ve got it, babe. It belongs to you and no one else.

You'll make a good First Lady, Shelby Campbell." Shelby's fingers tightened on her wineglass, an involuntary gesture noticed only by Alan and his mother. "Perhaps," she returned calmly. "if it were one of my ambitions." "Ambitions or not,it's fate when you're paired with this one," Daniel stabbed his fork toward Alan. "You're a little premature." Alan cut cleanly through his meat, swearing fluidly in his mind only. "I haven't decided to run for president, and Shelby hasn't agreed to marry me." "Haven't decided? Hah!" Daniel silled down wine. "Hasn't agreed?" He set down the glass with a bang. "The girl doesn't look like a fool to me, Campbell or no," he continued. "She's good Scottish stock,no matter what her clan.This one'll breed true MacGregors." "He'd still like me to change my name," Justin commented, deliberately trying to shift the attention onto himself. "It's been done to ensure the line before," Daniel told him. "but Rena's babe'll be as much MacGregor as not. As will Caine's when he's a mind to remember his duty and start making one." He sent his younger son a lowered-brow look that was met with an insolent grin. "But Alan's the firstborn, duty-bound to marry and produce and sire..." Alan turned, intending on putting an end to the topic,when he caught Shelby's grin. She'd folded her arms on the table,forgetting her dinner in the pure enjoyment of watching Daniel MacGregor on a roll. "Having fun?" Alan muttered near her ear. "Wouldn't miss it.Is he always like this?" Alan glanced over, watching his father gesture with his lecture. "Yes." Shelby sighed. "I think I'm in love. Daniel..." She interrupted his flow of words by tugging sharply on his sleeve. "No offense to Alan,or to your wife,but I think if I were going to marry a MacGregor,he'd have to be you." Still caught up in his own diatribe, Daniel stared at her.Abruptly his features shifted and his laugh rang out. "You're a pistol,you are, Shelby Campbell.Here..." He lifted a bottle of wine. "Your glass is empty.

Babe"-he gave me a look that suggested I was missing the obvious-"I never kid about blowjobs." The sound of someone choking brought my head up. Our waiter had descended on us just in time to hear those romantic words, and his rosy cheeks betrayed his embarrassement. "Ready to order?" he croaked out. "Yes," Braden answered, obviously not caring that he had been overheard. "I'll have the steak, medium rare." He smiled softly at me. "What are you having?" He took a swig of water. He thought he was so cool and funny. "Apparently sausage." Braden choked on the water, coughing into his fist, his eyes bright with mirth as he put his glass back on the table. "Are you okay sir?" the waiter asked.

Hold On" They hung a sign up in our town "If you live it up, you won't live it down" So she left Monte Rio, son Just like a bullet leaves a gun With her charcoal eyes and Monroe hips She went and took that California trip Oh, the moon was gold, her hair like wind Said, "don't look back, just come on, Jim" Oh, you got to hold on, hold on You gotta hold on Take my hand, I'm standing right here, you gotta hold on Well, he gave her a dimestore watch And a ring made from a spoon Everyone's looking for someone to blame When you share my bed, you share my name Well, go ahead and call the cops You don't meet nice girls in coffee shops She said, "baby, I still love you" Sometimes there's nothin' left to do Oh, but you got to hold on, hold on Babe, you gotta hold on and take my hand I'm standing right here, you gotta hold on Well, God bless your crooked little heart St. Louis got the best of me I miss your broken China voice How I wish you were still here with me Oh, you build it up, you wreck it down Then you burn your mansion to the ground Oh, there's nothing left to keep you here But when you're falling behind in this big blue world Oh, you've got to hold on, hold on Babe, you gotta hold on Take my hand, I'm standing right here, you gotta hold on Down by the Riverside motel It's ten below and falling By a ninety-nine cent store She closed her eyes and started swaying But it's so hard to dance that way When it's cold and there's no music Oh, your old hometown's so far away But inside your head there's a record that's playing A song called "Hold On", hold on Babe, you gotta hold on Take my hand, I'm standing right there, you gotta hold on

The iron has entered my soul,' announced George Knox impressively. 'Let me tell you, my dear Laura, that when I lay here weak and ill, unable to raise a hand in my own defence, I begged for a nurse, a hireling who would do her day-labour as a machine, and not worry a sick, ageing man. But even this was denied. Miss Grey, all kindness and sympathy and, I must say, Laura, an infernal bore, insisted on nursing me herself. Degrading enough in any case but the worst you have not heard. Could I ask my secretary to shave me? No. As a matter of fact, I did, but she wouldn't, or couldn't. Imagine me, Laura, becoming more like a pard day by day prickly and revolting to myself, mortified beyond words to be seen in this this condition, but helpless.' 'Why didn't you get the gardener to do it? Or use a safety razor?' 'My dear Laura,' said George Knox in a hurt voice, 'you do not seem to realise how weak I was, how very weak. For two days my temperature had been over a hundred, and when the fever had left me I lay powerless, as a new-born babe, and the woman triumphed over me. She would not let me shave, she fed me on slops, she would not even give me clean pyjamas till the third day.

Love one another…as members of one family…. —Romans 12:10 (AMP) I sometimes brood about my mothering days when my children were young. Observing other mothers with their children now, I realize how simple it would have been to have bent over to their level more, hugged more, and said to each of them more often, “I love you.” Now I was certain it was too late. Recently, my daughter Julie was going through a difficult day. As she left my house, we stood at the back door, saying good-bye. Suddenly, she threw her arms around me, and I grabbed her tight. “I love you, Mother.” “I love you too, Julie.” “It’s so good to hear you say it, Mother.” “I thought you were too old.” I tightened my grip. Julie shed her tears openly. Mine got stuck somewhere down inside of me. “You didn’t say it much when we were little,” she whispered so softly, I could have missed the words. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Julie. Can you forgive me?” She nodded, unable to speak. “Thank you, Julie Babe.” “I want to hear them, Mother. I always did.” Still holding my daughter, I spoke the words again. So did she. The powerful words went straight to my heart and rested there like a contented kitten. Now, each time we end a telephone conversation or say good-bye in person, we add “I love you,” simultaneously. Oh, my Father, I’ve neglected to speak the words to You too. Thank You that it's never too late to change. I love You. I love You. —Marion Bond West Digging Deeper: Lk 6:31; Eph 4:32, 6:4

Waking at two in the morning, I noticed Judd was gone from bed along with Pearl. As I pushed the covers back to find him, he appeared at the doorway with a few cans of soda and a plate of food. “Hey, babe, I figured you were hungry since we skipped dinner.” Even smiling, I could barely keep my eyes open. “I didn’t have much to choose from since I’ve been out of town,” he said, setting the food on the nightstand and opening a Coke. “A little leftover this and that. Half a meatball sub. Nothing great, but…” Judd paused when he looked at me. “You’re not even awake, are you?” “No,” I whispered. A grinning Judd fed me bites of potato salad and the stale sub sandwich. I chewed what he gave me and drank a little of the soda then collapsed back on the bed and watched him finish the food. “I missed you so much,” I whispered. “You can’t know how much I missed you.” After setting aside the plate, Judd slid into bed. He kissed me softly, tasting of marinara sauce. “You’re warm,” he murmured against my neck as his lips teased me. “I don’t know if I’m awake enough to help.” “I don’t need help,” he said, grinning at me as he explored my body. “I just need a yes.” “Yes,” I moaned as he sucked on my nipple. “A million times yes.” Judd laughed his rich deep laugh.

It seemed that now, more than ever, he relished having his little family unit. Now that Robert was getting bigger, Steve was enjoying spending time with both the kids and seemed much more appreciate of how comfortable our relationship had become. I was pleasantly surprised when the phone rang and it was Steve, calling all the way from Washington, D.C. He sounded concerned. “Mate, when I hugged you good-bye at the airport, it felt like there was something wrong.” I was always impressed with the way Steve could tune in to my feelings. “The longer we’re together, the more I worry when we’re apart,” I confessed. “We just have to make every day, every minute we’re together count,” Steve replied. “I know,” I told him. “I just miss you so much.” “Don’t worry, babe,” he said. “I’ll be home in a couple days. Big cities just aren’t my cup of tea.” When he did come home, we had new Sumatran tiger cubs to play with at the zoo, and new bush adventures to embark upon.

Lily sent your woman out. She says Juanita would never wish to have a child if she watched now." Juanita glared at Travis, although she swished her skirts and boldly walked up to confront him. "I shall never have children," she declared firmly. "Why go through such pain just to bring another man into the world?" Wiping his dusty brow with the back of his arm, Travis looked away from the old Indian on the porch and down at Juanita, grinning widely as he looked her up and down. Her brown skin glinted with golden highlights in the dawn, and the loose neck of her lacy blouse revealed more than was necessary of the narrow valley between her breasts. He had finally been treated to more than just a glimpse of that delight last night, before the raid, and even in his weariness he couldn't control his surge of lust. "Where would women be if they did not have men to cook for and to warm their beds and to fill their bellies with bonnie babes? And look what fun you'd miss." With one quick grab, Travis hauled Juanita into his arms before she could escape, and he assuaged some of his hunger with the feel of her ripe body pressed into his and her lips opening beneath his kiss. Several

I’m still going to miss you.” “It’s okay to miss me. But you’ve got so much with King, Bear, the kids. You’re going to be so fucking busy, you’re not going to have time to miss me. But I tell you what; I’ll make sure you know I’m around. Can’t find where you put your fucking car keys? That’s ’cause Ghost Preppy put them in the freezer. Can’t find the remote but the channels keep changing? That’s because Ghost Preppy can’t remember what channel American Ninja Warrior is on.” Preppy wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “I love you Preppy,” I said, pulling him in for another hug. “So much.” “I love you too, babe. As much as a motherfucker can love his best friend’s girl, in a friendship kind of way, who he also wouldn’t mind fucking.” Preppy put his hands on my shoulders.

Making a frustrated noise, Ryan tapped James’s neck, another silent order to look at him, and James did. Ryan said, “You know I hate that Arthur is pressuring you into this—it’s none of his business when and who you marry—but you sure as hell don’t need my approval, either. You shouldn’t give a shit about it as long as you want her. Arthur ’s opinion doesn’t matter, but neither does mine, you tosser.” “Of course your opinion matters,” James said with a laugh. “It would be awkward if you hate her, because you’ll be around all the time.” He hated how the last part of the sentence sounded more like a question. Ryan, who knew him better than anyone, didn’t miss it, of course. Ryan’s eyes narrowed. Shit. Sloppy. He was getting sloppy. “Jamie—” “Here you two are!” a familiar voice interrupted whatever Ryan was going to say. Partly relieved, partly annoyed by the interruption— intrusion, his inner voice couldn’t help but whisper—James turned to Ryan’s girlfriend. Ryan let go of his neck. Hannah was smiling as she took the seat on the other side of Ryan. She really was a lovely girl: blond, pale and pretty serene—not the type Ryan usually went for. “Hey, babe,” she said, leaning in to kiss the corner of Ryan’s mouth. “Miss me?” “I dropped you off half an hour ago,” Ryan said, but he was pulling her close to kiss her properly. It was a public place, but that never stopped Ryan. James wrapped his hands around his cup of tea and stared down at the dark surface of the liquid.

Eager. I like that, Manny." "Good morning to you too, Sleeping Beauty. Or should that be good afternoon?" "It's still morning, though I feel like I've slept away the day." "You must've needed it." "Is that your medical opinion?" "No. I'm off duty." Just hearing his deep voice had Harper snuggling back under the covers, wishing he was next to her. "Pity. Because I'm not feeling so good, and I was hoping you made house calls." "What's wrong?" "A distinct case of I-miss-you-itis." "Damn it, if I wasn't halfway along this Craters of the Moon geothermal hike, I'd be there in a flash." He muttered a curse. "I know. I can give you a more accurate diagnosis over the phone if you do one thing." Smiling, she said, "What?" "Tell me what you're wearing." Her thighs clenched as her smile extended into a grin. "My, my, Doctor, I didn't think this was one of those calls." "You're in bed. You're missing me. What did you expect?" "A little decorum." "Yeah, sure." "You're right. I want to torture you a little." "A lot, considering I'm now envisaging you cute and sleep rumpled." "What are you wearing?" "Why?" he asked. "Because I'm assuming there are families on that hike, and too much envisaging may lead to more than one tent pole in that national park." He laughed so loudly she had to hold the cell away from her ear. "You really are something else," he said. "And for the record? I miss you too." "So I'll meet you in the foyer at four for our picnic?" "Yeah. I found the perfect spot." "Secluded?" "Babe, you're killing me." "Not yet, but maybe this will help." She lowered her voice. "I'm wearing nothing and I'm thinking of you." She hung up on his garbled cry, grinning madly.

He projects it so I can’t miss a word all the way behind the counter. “If I walk in here again, and you’re chewing her ear off, and she looks like she did when I came in earlier? I’m gonna throw your hipster ass through that front window like it’s a bar scene from a western on channel fifty-four.” I— Before I can think of a word to say, Cash straightens and waves at me. “Purely metaphorically, babe! Wait for Jesse. I’ll call you when I have service.” Then he glances down at Toby and says, “But seriously. Right through the window.” He makes the sound of glass shattering, waves at me again, and strolls out. Toby opens his mouth and sputters.

Hey, big guy.” After a moment, he said, “Babe?” He blinked and sat up, making the gurney squeak and groan. “Guys? What’d I miss?” A better family life? Your mom and sister? The kind of great dad you deserved? I wanted to say all of that, but I didn’t. I swallowed and had to blink back a few tears. “You’re my knight in shining armor.” I hugged him hard. “You saved the damsel. Now it’s my turn.” I hugged him again.

I know mouth-to-mouth.” Ayden whacked Blake on the shoulder. “Thanks, but I’d rather you throw water on me.” “Don’t know what you’re missing, babe.” “With any luck.” “Give her the knife.” We all looked at Matthias who, when no one moved, snatched the knife from Blake, flipped it in his hand and offered it to me, handle first. “Take it. You’ll feel better.

I know. I miss you. I miss us—ABN us. It’s weird, not having you there, and not to be a total drunkle, but what are you doing here, babe? Working for The Goddess Effect?” Behind his haze of several gin and tonics, I saw genuine concern.

for the rest of the night. Other than to refuel with holiday leftovers. “Would you still love me if I told you I didn’t know what tasted better, Christmas leftovers or you?” Jana cocked her eyebrow with a sexy smile on her face. Damn, she was beautiful. “No but I will be mad unless you do some very thorough research and come up with a satisfying answer…” I grinned. This Christmas was unlike any of the others Jana and I had spent together. This time we had two little boys, a bigger family and we’d faced our biggest threat yet and come out on top. “If it’s for the sake of research, consider me in babe.” And I spent the rest of the night doing science. Between the gorgeous legs of my beautiful wife. I was pretty sure in that moment, life for the Reckless Bastard’s couldn’t get any better. Merry friggin’ Christmas to us! * * * * If you think the Reckless Bastards are spicy bad boys, they’re nothing compared to the steam in my next series Reckless MC Opey, TX Chapter where Gunnar and Maisie move to Texas! There’s also a sneak peek on the next page.   Don’t wait — grab your copy today!  Copyright © 2019 KB Winters and BookBoyfriends Publishing Inc Published By: BookBoyfriends Publishing Inc Chapter One Gunnar “We’re gonna be cowboys!” Maisie had been singing that song since we got on the interstate and left Nevada and the only family we’d had in the world behind. For good. Cross was my oldest friend, and I’d miss him the most, even though I knew we’d never lose touch. I’d miss Jag too, even Golden Boy and Max. The prospects were cool, but I had no attachment to them. Though I gave him a lot of shit, I knew I’d even miss Stitch. A little. It didn’t matter that the last year had been filled with more shit than gold, or that I was leaving Vegas in the dust, we were all closer for the hell we’d been through. But still, I was leaving. Maisie and I’d been on the road for a couple of days. Traveling with a small child took a long damn time. Between bathroom breaks and snack times we’d be lucky to make it to Opey by the end of the month. Lucky for me, Maisie had her mind set on us becoming cowboys, complete with ten gallon hats, spurs and chaps, so she hadn’t shed one tear, yet. It wasn’t something I’d been hoping for but I was waiting patiently for reality to sink in and the uncontrollable sobs that had a way of breaking a grown man’s heart. “You’re not a boy,” I told her and smiled through the rear view mirror. “Hard to be a cowboy if you’re not even a boy.” Maisie grinned, a full row of bright white baby teeth shining back at me right along with sapphire blue eyes and hair so black it looked to be painted on with ink. “I’m gonna be a cowgirl then! A cowgirl!” She went on and on for what felt like forever, in only the way that a four year old could, about all the cool cowgirl stuff she’d have. “Boots and a pony too!” “A pony? You can’t even tie your shoes or clean up your toys and you want a pony?” She nodded in that exaggerated way little kids did. “I’ll learn,” she said with the certainty of a know it all teenager, a thought that terrified the hell out of me. “You’ll help me, Gunny!” Her words brought a smile to my face even though I hated that fucking nickname she’d picked up from a woman I refused to think about ever again. I’d help Maisie because that’s what family did. Hell, she was the reason I’d uprooted my entire fucking life and headed to the great unknown wilds of Texas. To give Maisie a normal life or as close to normal as I was capable of giving her. “I’ll always help you, Squirt.” “I know. Love you Gunny!” “Love you too, Cowgirl.” I winked in the mirror and her face lit up with happiness. It was the pure joy on her face, putting a bloom in her cheeks that convinced me this was the right thing to do. I didn’t want to move to Texas, and I didn’t want to live on a goddamn ranch, but that was my future. The property was already bought and paid for with my name

An arm slid around my shoulders. Looking up into mischievous hazel eyes, my heart hammered against my ribs. Caden grinned down at me. “Hey, babe. Missed you today.” As his lips brushed my temple, everyone froze. I counted from one beat to two, and the entire room erupted. “What the hell?” Nash barked. “Why are your lips touching my sister?” Holt growled as he pushed to his feet. Lawson strode out from the kitchen. “This is a joke, right?” But Roan stayed sitting. He simply stared, a thoughtful expression on his face. Caden didn’t seem especially worried and showed no signs of releasing me as three pissed-off guys charged toward him. I, on the other hand, immediately started sweating. “Explain,” Nash growled.

Are you challenging me, little miss? Me, the Cuisinier Noir called Monarch?" "Hey, Tadokoro. Need any help?" "Nope! I'll be fine." "Whoa, now! What on earth are you two thinking?!" "Okay, you're on, babe. I'll be nice and try your food. But if I decide it ain't up to snuff... ... then both you and Mr. Mad-Skillz Kid will be my slaves forever! Don't worry. I'll make sure to make real good use of you in my own personal kingdom!" "Those conditions sound fine to me." "Miss! This is crazy! You don't have to do this!" "Mr. Head Chef? Could you promise me one thing, please? If the worst happens and I can't win this challenge... Well, er... we're all stuck doing what he says for a long time, aren't we?" "I told you this is crazy!" "But even if that does happen... could you please not close this inn? Even if disaster strikes and things aren't going how you'd like... ... you need to keep your doors open, no matter what. Because if you close down... ... then all the customers who love your inn will be saved.

This inn has a very special flavor that you won't find anywhere else. I'd like for you to sample it, even just once." "Are you challenging me, little miss? Me, the Cuisinier Noir called Monarch?" "Hey, Tadokoro. Need any help?" "Nope! I'll be fine." "Whoa, now! What on earth are you two thinking?!" "Okay, you're on, babe. I'll be nice and try your food. But if I decide it ain't up to snuff... ... then both you and Mr. Mad-Skillz Kid will be my slaves forever! Don't worry. I'll make sure to make real good use of you in my own personal kingdom!" "Those conditions sound fine to me." "Miss! This is crazy! You don't have to do this!" "Mr. Head Chef? Could you promise me one thing, please? If the worst happens and I can't win this challenge... Well, er... we're all stuck doing what he says for a long time, aren't we?" "I told you this is crazy!" "But even if that does happen... could you please not close this inn? Even if disaster strikes and things aren't going how you'd like... ... you need to keep your doors open, no matter what. Because if you close down... ... then all the customers who love your inn will be sad.

You naked in front of me is a masterpiece, and I don’t intend to ever miss an opportunity to stare, babe.

So, what’ll it be, Miss Book Babe?” I blink, surprised. “Did you just give me a pet name?” Chase’s grin is all kinds of cocky. “You gave us nicknames. Only fair. And it seems fitting,” he says. “Was Miss Bookalicious taken, Weston?” Ryker asks his friend dryly.

Boyfriend: I miss you babe, I can’t wait to see you again. Woah Potato!!! Lol!! Boyfriend: Damn Autocorrect, I meant woohoo!! Boyfriend: But I think I like it. Woah Potato

Ah, babe, don’t cry.” “It hurt really bad before,” she says and wipes away a tear. “If it doesn’t work again, I don’t want to have to go through that a second time.” Me, neither,” I admit. “But there aren’t a lot of guarantees in life. I know if we don’t try, I’ll miss you forever. Let’s try, Jose.

Hunter burst out laughing. Billy twisted around, one hand holding the babe securely on the cot, one hand clutching her collar. Red filled every inch of her skin. “What are you doing here?” she hissed. Instead of answering, he chuckled and shook his head. He couldn’t imagine why any little girl would want to be a doctor when everybody knew girls were supposed to grow up and become mothers. She turned her back to him, then began to diaper the infant. It was a boy, he noted. “What’s the matter with you, Hunter Scott?” she asked. “What were you doing to sneak in here and eavesdrop on a conversation that wasn’t meant for you?” The tenor of her voice upset the babe and it started to cry again. Making his way to her side, he cocked a hip against the cot. “I’m sorry, Billy. I really am sorry to have upset the babe, but I wouldn’t have missed that tale for the world.

He pulled the blanket out of the back of his Jeep and walked me towards the shore before laying it down and sitting me between his legs, my back pressed against him. After rolling my shirt up over my stomach, he started tracing delicate patterns on me. Liam instantly started wiggling as soon as Brandon’s hands were on my bare skin. “I’m so excited to meet him,” His deep voice filled my body, “but I’m going to miss this. You’re the most beautiful pregnant woman I’ve ever seen Harper.” I sighed and molded my body to his even more, “Have I told you how amazing you are and how much I love you recently?” “I love you too.” He brushed my hair away and pressed his lips to my neck. “What are you most excited for?” “Watching you teach him things. Like how to throw a ball and surf …” I said quickly, I thought about that all day long. “You?” “Everything.” “That’s not fair babe! You have to say something.” He thought for a minute, “I want to see you hold him.” “You want to see me hold him?” I deadpanned. “Yeah. The way you hold yourself whenever he moves or you’re thinking about him, makes me fall in love with you that much more. It’s tender, and full of love even though he isn’t here yet. So I can’t wait to see you actually hold him.” “Oh.” And that right there made me fall in love with you more. I turned so I could face him and pressed a quick kiss to his neck, “You’re going to be an amazing father Brandon. Your dad would be so proud of who you are.” “I hope so.” “I know he would.” He

THE SIGHT I WAS MET WITH IN THE KITCHEN was a dead giveaway. Rachel wanted something. She only voluntarily made pancakes when she wanted something, or was showing me her appreciation for something I’d done. And since I’d been gone for thirteen hours at work, I knew it wasn’t the latter. “Hey, babe! How was work? I really missed you and I’m glad you’re home. You hungry? You were gone so long today; did you stay over? What time is it? Why don’t you go get comfortable and I’ll finish up here?” What in the fuck? My eyes widened as she wrapped her arms around my neck. She was rambling, which means I had been wrong about both. She didn’t want something; she’d done something. “What’d you do?” “What do you mean?” “You suck at trying to act normal. And you’re making pancakes without me asking you to.” She just sat there with a plastered smile on her face, and I decided to push it more. “You’re really shitty at hiding things from me, you know that?

Did you come to see my father?" "No, I... came to call on Miss Hathaway." "Are you one of her suitors?" Christopher gave a decisive shake of his head. "You might be one," the boy said wisely, "and just not know it yet." Christopher felt a smile- his first genuine smile in a long time- pulling at his lips. "Does Miss Hathaway have many suitors?" "Oh, yes. But none of them want to marry her." "Why is that, do you imagine?" "They don't want to get shot," the child said, shrugging. "Pardon?" Christopher's brows lifted. "Before you marry, you have to get shot by an arrow and fall in love," the boy explained. He paused thoughtfully. "But I don't think the rest of it hurts as much as the beginning." Christopher couldn't prevent a grin.

I’m not done yet.” Sunglasses coughed into his fist, took out his iPhone, and held it up to Kat. “Hey, babe, congrats—you’ve just moved to the top of my to-do list.” Stacy loved it. Kat said, “What’s your name?” He arched an eyebrow. “Whatever you want it to be, babe.” “How about Ass Waffle?” Kat opened her blazer, showing the weapon on her belt. “I’m going to reach for my gun now, Ass Waffle.” “Damn, woman, are you my new boss?” He pointed to his crotch. “Because you just gave me a raise.” “Go away.” “My love for you is like diarrhea,” Sunglasses said. “I just can’t hold it in.” Kat stared at him, horrified. “Too far?” he said. “Oh man, that’s just gross.” “Yeah, but I bet you never heard it before.” He’d win that bet. “Leave. Now.” “Really?” Stacy was nearly on the floor with laughter. Sunglasses started to turn away. “Wait. Is this a test? Is Ass Waffle, like, a compliment