Kelley

“You know you’re in a college town when there’s a restaurant called “Pancakea.” The establishment was a pancake/coffee house, and Choo, Molly, Sig, and I were sitting in a booth arguing about the place and its name and their relative merits. I thought the name was a take on panacea, implying that pancakes are a cure for everything. Sig thought the owner wanted the place to become the IKEA of pancakes. Molly thought that given how large the pancakes were, the title might be a riff on Pangea, the first continental landmass. We all agreed that the owner was probably an ex-college student who couldn’t get a job with his or her major, but we couldn’t agree on whether that major was philosophy, marketing, anthropology, or just heavy drinking.”
― Elliott James, Fearless

“Seriously, there ought to be a cartography class for women who want to map out a man's geography to remember fondly later.”
― Sierra Woods, The Resurrectionist

“I’m glad you could make it,” she quipped, her voice not quite as steady as she wished.

“When you issue an invitation to your bedroom, it’s common practice to make sure the door is unlocked,” he returned without a pause. He looked beyond her and said, “It’s also common to wait until your partner’s here before you start getting the sheets hot.”

[...]

“Sorry,” she quipped lightly, “I’m not familiar with the etiquette required of a mistress. Next time I’ll make sure that you’re in the bed before I throw hot coals at it.”
― Patricia Briggs, When Demons Walk

“I opened the bag and pulled out a small box of chocolates. “Happy anniversary.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She flashed me a huge smile that would have looked totally real … if I didn’t know her better.
“Simon said that’s what I should get you. That or flowers. So you like it?”
“Sure.”
“Liar.”
Her face went bright red now as she stammered, “N-no, really. It’s great. It’s—”
“Completely and totally impersonal. Like something you’d buy in bulk for all your teachers.”
“No, I like this kind. You know I do and—”
She stopped as I held out the bag.
“Your real gift,” I said.
She looked in and let out a choking laugh. Then, still grinning, she reached in and pulled out a penlight, a Swiss army knife and a purse-sized can of mace.
She sputtered another laugh. “This is …”
“Practical?” I said.
“In my life, it is definitely practical. But I was going to say thoughtful.” She smiled up at me. “The most thoughtful gift I’ve ever gotten.”
“And the most completely unromantic? Simon almost had a heart attack when I showed him. He made me get the chocolates, as a backup.”
“I’m sure he did. Which I suppose explains why I ended up with you instead.” She rose on tiptoes again and put her arms around my neck. “Because buying me gifts to keep me safe? That’s my idea of romantic.” ”
― Kelley Armstrong, Belonging