Tammy Craps Quotes

Sounds like a plan. I owe Tammy a big thank-you.” Ty sighed. “I think I’m too old for this bachelor party crap.” “We’ll be planning yours soon enough.” That was so not appealing, Ty was almost scared. “Let’s just go fishing and call it good.” “Done.

Never underestimate a sensitive person they have accurate crap-detectors

her. I look at her. Finally look at her. She’s wearing a T-shirt, and I can see the elastic leg of her panties when she turns. “Why don’t you go in my room and wait?” She looks down and flushes. “Oh, crap,” she says. She pulls a drawer open and gets a pair of shorts. I can’t draw my eyes away from that perfect round ass. I know, I’m a rude fucker, but I can’t look away. “Damn, that’s pretty,” I murmur. I bite my cheek, trying to take my mind off it. I’m sitting here in my boxers and nothing else, trying not to let her see how hard I’m getting. While my ceiling leaks on our heads. She steps into the hallway and puts on her shorts. When she comes back, all that beautiful skin is covered up. Just my luck. Her bra is hanging on the end of the bed. I hook it with my finger and hold it up. “Do you need this?” She jerks it from my hand and tosses it into a drawer. She slams it shut with her hip. I want to lift her shirt and pull her waistband out so I can see the top edge of her panties, but that would be rude, considering she hasn’t invited me to do it, and my ceiling is about to fall in. I scrub a hand down my face. Now I know she’s not wearing a bra. Fuck me. The doorbell rings. “I’ll

You came to see me.” I can hear the grin in his voice and it makes my heart skip. I wish he would shut up. “God, cupcake,” he says. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.” “D-do wh-what?” Crap. I forgot to tap. His eyes narrow. Tap. Tap. “Do what?” I say again. He lays a hand over his heart. “You just gave me hope.” I don’t say anything, because I can’t. “She was just a friend,” he says again. “Maybe you should tell her that.” “Okay. I will if I ever get in another car accident and almost die and she’s nice enough to come and see me.” I close my eyes and breathe. “I’ll send her packing, as soon as I wake up, cupcake.” He laughs. “In fact, I’ll have my family send her packing before I wake up. Will that work for you?” “You used to date her.” Tap. Tap. “Yep.” “For a long time.” “For a while.” I don’t say anything. “You want to know if I had sex with her, cupcake?” he asks quietly. “N-no.” I bite my lips together. “Is that why you won’t go out with me? Because I’m not a virgin? Because if that’s the case, I need to tell Sally Parker that she ruined my life when I was fifteen.” My chest heaves with a sigh. “I swear to God, cupcake, if I had known my virginity was what you were after, I would never have given it away.” I shake my head. He’s teasing me. I can feel the corners of my lips tilting up. “Don’t smile,” he says. I can’t help it. I finally grin. “F-fuck you,” I say. He

Sky pulls her arm back, right as I turn back to walk to the couch, and suddenly the controller flies out of her hand and smacks directly into my nose. “Ugh!” I grunt out. Sky puts her hand over her mouth and gasps. But then she runs toward me when she sees the blood dripping down my face. I walk into the kitchen because I don’t want to get blood on the carpet. “Oh thit,” I swear, when I see that the kids didn’t follow us. She sits me down in a chair and puts a towel under my nose. “That hurts wike a mudder fudder.” I sound like I’m all stopped up with a cold, but the blood is still dripping, so I pinch my nose closed. “I’m so sorry,” she says as she drops down in front of me. She rests her forearms on my thighs. I can smell the pizza she just ate on her breath, and I really, really want to kiss her, but I have blood all over my face and hands. “I’m so sorry,” she says again. “I didn’t know it would fly out of my hand like that.” “You hab ta wap it awound your wist,” I say. “I have to wrap it around my wrist?” she repeats. “To keep it fwom fwying.” “Crap,” she says again. “I am so sorry.” She already said that. She gets up and goes to get a wet towel. She cleans my hands and wipes gently beneath my nose. My nose hurts like a son of a bitch. I jerk my head back, but she just follows, probing and prodding. “I think the bleeding has stopped,” she says. But I let her continue to fuss over me, just because I like it. “Do you want some ice?” she asks. Yeah, but I need it for my dick and not for my nose. “Pwease,” I say. Her face is only inches from mine. But then she goes to the fridge. She comes back with a small bag of ice. She’d probably get offended if I shoved it in my pants, so I lay it against my nose, instead. I brace my chin with one hand and hold the ice with the other. “I really didn’t mean to hit you,” she says. She looks so worried that I have to let her off the hook. Hell, I lived with four brothers. I have had more nosebleeds than I could ever begin to count. “I’ll wiv,” I say. She leans close and kisses my cheek. I want to turn my head and press my lips to hers, but I don’t. “You in lub wif me yet?” I ask. She laughs and turns her head away, closing her eyes. Her giggle is so damn cute. She winces. “I gwess dats a no,” I say. I lift my shirt and wipe the edge of my nose, since she took my wet towel. When I do, her eyes go to my frog prince, and she leans forward and presses her lips to him. She looks up at me, her blue eyes wide, as she holds her lips there for a second. Then she makes a loud smacking noise and pops back up, grinning. “There. All better?” Fuck no. We’re just getting started. Seth sticks his head into the room. He smirks at me and shakes his head. “Dude,” he says. He laughs. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.” I throw down the ice. “Dat’s it. I’m going to kick your ath at bow’ing, Seth. You are going down.” I follow him into the other room, take a controller, and try to pretend like she didn’t just rock my world.

Logan throws up a hand to get my attention. You’re playing with fire, he warns. He jerks his thumb toward the curtain. He’s pissed. He must not want Paul to hear him or he would be talking instead of signing. I wave a breezy hand at him. He’ll have to get over it. He looks toward the curtain. You should go talk to him. Why? Because he still has a client out here, and he had to leave because you were sucking face with the other guy. Crap. Paul walked away with a client in his chair. With a half-finished tat. He has no right to be angry. Logan’s brow arches, and he shakes his head. Well, he doesn’t. Quit being a baby, he signs. He jerks his thumb toward the curtain again. Go talk to him. I heave a sigh and go to get Paul out of his snit.

She brushes a lock of hair back from her face and winces when she tugs through a snag. “Oh, my gosh. I must look like I’ve been tumbled in a dryer, right? Is it bad?” She starts to sweep through her hair and her hand sticks in another knot. “You wouldn’t happen to have a brush, would you? Crap,” she swears as she encounters a huge snarl. “Wait,” I say. “I’ll get it.” I start to work through the tangle with my fingers and she sits still while I work out every last one. When I’m done, her hair is silky and smooth and I am not ready to stop running my fingers through it, but I probably should. “Don’t stop,” she says quietly. “That feels really good.” She pulls her feet from the water. “Wait,” she says, and she adjusts so that she’s lying over my lap. “You don’t mind, do you?” Hell, at this point, I’d be sad if she made me stop. “It’s fine,” I tell her. She relaxes against me and says, “Talk to me, will you?” Her eyes close and I’m pretty sure if she got any more relaxed, she’d fall asleep. My insides settle in a way they never have before. Usually, I have a roiling, boiling sensation in my chest, like something is fighting to get out of me and I must work to contain it at all times. But now… Now I am at peace. My soul and my heart connect like tumblers lining up in a lock. Snap! It opens up. And it scares the hell out of me. I pull my hands from her hair, thinking that her proximity is the problem. But the tumblers don’t realign. They don’t lock her out. They let her in. They invite her in and offer her a fucking apple pie so she’ll sit and stay for a while. “Are you all right?” she asks. “Why wouldn’t I be?” “You stopped rubbing my hair.” I lift her off my lap and set her beside me. “All the tangles are out.” “Oh.” She sighs. “That’s good.” She suddenly looks uncomfortable and it kills me that I caused it. “Thank you for fixing my hair,” she says quietly.