Marry me. You'll learn to love me, I promise.

Don't leave yet," he said, his voice hoarse. "Let me do something. Let me feed you. Hold you. Rub your shoulders. Change your oil. Anything, please.

But you were concerned about making sure things, you know, didn't get serious.""Yeah, because I'm an idiot.

I like the way you kiss-a couple of test kisses, then a huge kiss.

I am not sleeping with you.""We could probably manage it, though. Without getting too involved.""No," she said."But why? I mean, if we're trusted friends? And it doesn't interfere with our responsibilities?""Did that line ever actually work for you?""I can't remember. But it probably did-it's brilliant.

Maybe we could, um, go sit in the truck?" he said, but even as he said it, it sounded so dumb. And not exactly the way he wanted her to remember a marriage proposal.

Tom, how many children do you think I have to have before I figure out you get them by having sex?""Of course there would be protection," he offered."Tons of it.

Tom. Tom, look at me. Has Nora agreed to marry you?""No, but she will because she has to.