Fortune and Glory: Tantalizing Twenty-Seven (Stephanie Plum, #27)
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“I imagine you got the death-and-doom message from your nipples?” “Don’t underestimate my nipples. I got nipple radar. When they talk, I listen.”
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“Babe,” Ranger said.
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“Babe,” Ranger said.
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“Babe,” Ranger said. “Your car is in a red zone.”
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“Mostly, I was really pissed off that I was so freaking worried.”
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“Babe,” Ranger said.
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“Babe,” Ranger said.
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Ranger went full-on grin. “Babe.”
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“I haven’t gotten around to making a bucket list,” I said. “Do you think that’s a personal failure?” “No. You’re busy living every day. That’s a personal triumph.”
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“Not only will we never make out, but if you ever suggest it again, I’ll shoot you.”
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“My life is such a mess,” I said to Lula. “Maybe,” she said, “but your hair looks good.”
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“Babe, you were the one who said we should get a room.” “Yes, but that was all because of your thumb and your tongue and other things.”
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“Maybe that’s why God gave us death. So, we remember to love what’s alive.”
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“Babe,” Ranger said.
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“My bad car karma is the tip of the iceberg.”
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My mom’s eyes were as big as saucers. I gave her a thumbs-up, and she did an eye roll so huge that it almost tipped her chair over.