“Nash." Lola nodded toward the disappearing SUV. "Deputy Grayson." She grinned. "His first name is Nash. He's one of the four Grayson brothers. Every last one of them is tall, dark and so handsome they'll make your panties damp.”

“I'm concerned about the woman you're holding prisoner in there," Beckett said. "Knock three times if you're being held against your will." Phoebe gasped and answered, "I'm fine, too." "Good." Beckett said with a chuckle. "I was afraid I'd have to call the cops on my cop brother.”

“Phoebe stared into his blue eyes. "What would you do if you ran away from a wedding in a car that didn't belong to you and discovered a body in the trunk about the time a sheriff's deputy rolled up behind you?" She flung her hand in the air, and assumed a high-pitched, sarcastic tone. "Hi, I'm a rich man's daughter with a dead man in my trunk. Could you help me get him out so I can be on my merry way?”

“Deputy Grayson?" He turned to stare down into those soft green eyes, his pulse ratcheting up. "Yes, Miss Smith?" "Thank you." She touched his arm. "And no matter what happens, I promise I'm not a bad person."She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.... Warmth rushed through Nash and tingling spread from where Phoebe's lips had touched his cheek. He raised a hand to the spot and stared at the woman, a frown pulling his brows downward. He hadn't begun the day with the intent of finding a runaway bride stranded on the side of the road. Scenarios like that were only found in those unrealistic romance novels women liked reading.No. He hadn't asked for a kiss. But now that she'd done it, she couldn't undo it, and he couldn't unfeel it.”

“Nash." Lola nodded toward the disappearing SUV. "Deputy Grayson." She grinned. "His first name is Nash. He's one of the four Grayson brothers. Every last one of them is tall, dark and so handsome they'll make your panties damp.”

“The sum of a person's life is not determined by one action. It is what you do with the time you are given that matters.”

“Antonio," Ash groaned, "you know I hate it when you eat at my desk." "I know," Antonio replied, "but I don't mind and so long as one of us is reasonable, I figured why not?”

“That was his cover story. Architecture… a job that would take him out of town often and would require long hours and meetings that wouldn’t allow him to answer his phone. Of course, he had to have a good cover. Cell coverage in Hell was spotty.”