Cute Sandals Quotes

We had been out in the woods near campus one evening, having skipped out on our last class. I’d traded a pair of cute, rhinestone-studded sandals to Abby Badica for a bottle of peach schnapps—desperate, yes, but you did what you had to in Montana—which she’d somehow gotten hold of. Lissa had shaken her head in disapproval when I suggested cutting class to go put the bottle out of it’s misery, but she’d come along anyway. Like always. We found a log to sit on near a scummy green marsh. A half-moon cast a tiny light on us, but it was more than enough for vampires and half-vampires to see by. Passing the bottle back and forth I’d grilled her on Aaron. I held up that bottle and glared at it. “I don’t think this stuff it working.

Her mental list of items she’d need from her apartment was growing. There were things a girl just couldn’t live without, so Keegan would have to get them when he retrieved Muffin. “I need another purse. Can you get me my Prada knockoff? It’s in my closet on the shelf. Pink. It’s pink. I got it from a vendor in Manhattan. Jeez he was a tough negotiator, but it was worth the haggling. It’s soooo cute.” Keegan sighed, raspy and long. “Okay.” “Oh! And my nail polish. I have two new bottles in the bathroom under the sink in one of those cute organizer baskets, you know? Like the ones you get at Bed Bath and Beyond? God, I love those. Anyway, I need Retro Red and Winsome Wisteria.” Another sigh followed, and then a nod of consent. “My moisturizer. I never go anywhere, not even overnight, without my moisturizer. Not that I ever really go anywhere, but anyway I need it, or my skin will dehydrate and it could just be ugly. Top left side of my medicine cabinet.” “Er, okay.” “My shoes. I can’t be without shoes. Let’s see. I need my tennis shoes and my white sandals, because I don’t think there’s much hope for these, wouldn’t you say?” Marty looked up at him and saw impatience written all over his face. “And my laptop. I can’t check on my clients without my laptop, and they need me. Plus, there’s that no-good bitch Linda Fisher. I have to watch that she’s not stealing my accounts. Do you have all of that?” He gave her that stern look again. The one that made her insides skedaddle around even if it was meant in reproach. “I’m going too far, huh?” His smile was crooked. “Just a smidge.

Thankfully, Gabriel was five minutes late, and by the time he knocked on the door I’d just finished putting on lipstick and slipping my feet into sandals. I opened the door. “I hope I didn’t keep you wait . . .” His voice drifted off as he quite blatantly checked me out. “What?” I asked, hand on my hip. He flashed me a devilish grin. “The little pink dress. You look cute.” What I found frumpy, he found cute. Wonder what his response would have been to the tight number. My eyes gave him a discreet once-over. He wore jeans and a Yankees T-shirt. It wasn’t exactly going to win over the locals, but I had to admit, he filled the shirt out ridiculously well. His short black hair was damp, like he’d just taken a shower. I felt my face behind to flush, so I turned away. “Come on in.” He stopped and surveyed the foyer. “I was only here for a minute when we came to get Joni. I didn’t get a chance to check the place out.” He paused. “It’s not what I was expecting.” “What were you expecting? Voodoo dolls hung from the ceiling?” He smirked. “Maybe just a little one of me.” “That’s hidden under my bed.

I was wearing a colorful, short cover-up over a royal blue bikini. I had on gold strappy sandals and I looked cute-as-fuck. Did I, however, look like I was about to go yachting with New York City’s upper elite? No. I probably would have fit in better at the Jersey Shore between Snooki and JWoww.

a cute jean miniskirt, a fitted scoop-neck white tee, and gladiator sandals that Mom almost refused to buy. (“Why do you want to look like Roman soldier?”) I twist my hair into a loose bun, with a few strands poking out artfully here and there. Putting it up makes room for a silk cord necklace with multicolored glass beads that look good against my skin.

Three McCrae weddings in less than a year,” he commented, as if casually discussing the weather. Then he grinned. “Is it catching?” He could be so damn cute. And sexy as hell. His charisma and charm had been hard enough to resist before. Now that he’d unleashed it in full force, with every bit of his desire for her out there in the open for the world to see--and for her to feel--it was like being caught up in a kind of constant foreplay. It was one thing when she could just observe him in all his alpha-male glory, her thoughts about his sexy self and her desire to get all naked and personal with him safely hidden away inside her head for her own private enjoyment. But now he’d kissed her. And she’d kissed him back. And it had been so incredibly intimate, so ridiculously hot, so every other thing that usually requires full frontal nudity to experience, that she couldn’t even look at him without getting squirmy and tingly and far too turned on for her own--“I hate to disappoint you,” she blurted out, needing to get out of there, away from him. “But I really need to--” She lowered her hand and motioned to her truck and its trajectory as she backed out, right into where he was parked. “Lunch, then? Fergus said you’re off this shift.” “Oh, he did, did he?” No wonder she hadn’t heard him rummaging about in the apartment. He must have woken early and gone downstairs to his office. To hide. Old meddler. She’d have a little chat with him after the bridezilla brunch. “He also said he’s taken care of the orders, so no need to hurry back.” Kerry dipped her chin for a brief moment, then busied herself with wrangling the driver door open and all but shoving her basket in and across the bench seat of the ancient rig. She closed the door halfway, her sandaled foot still propped on the running board, and looked back at Cooper. “You’ve made yourself quite at home, I see.