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Phury pulled on a pair of nylon warm-ups. “You want food? I’m going to make a kitchen trip.”

Butch’s eyes blissed out. “You’re actually going to bring it up here? As in, I don’t have to move?”

“You’re going to owe me, but yeah, I’m willing to deliver.”

“You are a god.”

Phury put on a T-shirt. “What do you want?”

“Whatever’s in the kitchen. Hell, make yourself really useful and drag that refrigerator on up here. I’m starved.”

pp.307-308

“Then why are you wearing that bandage like a sash?”

“It makes my ass look smaller.”

p. 339

“I don’t want to go.”

“Well . . . in the words of Vishous, want in one hand, shit in the other—see what you get most of.”

p. 358

Phury was lying on the king-size bed, lines plugged into him as if he were a switchboard.

The male’s head turned. “Z . . . what are you doing up?”

“Giving the medical staff a workout. ” He shut the door and weaved into the room, heading for the bed. “They’re pretty damn fast, actually.”

p. 397

There was no reply. So Z glanced over again—just as a tear slid down Phury’s cheek.

“Ah . . . fuck,” Z muttered.

“Yeah. Pretty much. ” Another tear rolled out of Phury’s eye. “God . . . damn. I’m leaking. ”

“Okay, brace yourself.”

Phury scrubbed his face with his palms. “Why?”

“Because . . . I think I’m going to try to hug you.”

Phury’s hands dropped and he looked over with an absurd expression.

Feeling like an utter ass, Z pushed himself over to his twin. “Lift up your head, damn it.” Phury craned his neck. Z slid his arm underneath. The two of them froze in the unnatural positions. “You know, this was a hell of a lot easier when you were out cold in the back of that truck.”

“That was you?”

“You think it was Santa Claus or some shit?”

p. 399

Butch sighed in relief. “Listen, man, do me a favor. Warn me before you pull another stunt like that. I’d rather choose.” Then he smiled a little. “And we still ain’t dating. ”

p. 406

Lover Revealed

. . . When it was finished, the scaled dragon looked around and as the thing spotted V, a growl rippled up to the bleachers, then ended in a snort.

“You finished, big guy?” V called down. “FYI, goalpost over there would work righteous as a toothpick.”

p. 22

“For sure. I’m thinking about a future in contracting. Wanted to see how this bathroom was put together. Excellent tile work. You should check it. ”

“How about I carry you back to bed?”

“I want to look at the sink pipes next.”

Respect and affection clearly drove V’s cool smirk. “At least let me help you up.”

“Nah, I can do it. ” With a groan, Butch gave the vertical move a shot, but eased back down onto the tile. Turned out lifting his head was a little overwhelming. But if they left him here long enough—a week, maybe ten days?

“Come on, cop. Cry uncle here and let me help.”

Butch was suddenly too tired to front. As he went totally limp, he was aware of Marissa staring at him and thought, man, could he look any weaker? Shit, the only saving grace was that there wasn’t a cold breeze on his butt.

Which suggested the hospital gown had stayed closed. Thank you, God.

pp. 84-85

“You know you were with the lessers, true?”

Butch lifted one of his busted-up hands. “And here I thought I’d been to Elizabeth Arden.” p. 85

“Sure.” Except when V brought up his business hand and started taking off that glove, Butch recoiled. “What are you going to do with that thing?”

“Trust me, true?”

Butch barked a laugh. “Last time you said that I ended up with a vampire cocktail, remember?”

“Saved your ass. That’s how I found you.”

So that had been the why of it. “Well, then, fly me some of that hand.” Still, as V put the glowing thing close, Butch winced.

“Relax, cop. This isn’t going to hurt.”

“I’ve seen you toast a house with that bastard.”

“Point taken. But the Firestarter routine isn’t going down here.”

p. 87

She pulled back the sheet. Good God, his sex was . . . “It’s gotten so . . . huge.”

Butch barked out a laugh. “You say the nicest things.”

p. 117

“Man,” Rhage muttered, “someone hit this place with the Hallmark