Nora And Patch Quotes & Sayings

He felt warm and familiar. He felt solid and safe. I wanted to cling to his shirt, bury my face into the warm curve of his neck, and never let go. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Sometimes I think this job is going to kill me," Abby said. "Seeing what people have done, what people continue to do, to my Foxes. I wish I could protect you, but I'm always too late. All I can do is patch you up afterward and hope for the best. I'm sorry, Neil. We should have been there for you. — Nora Sakavic

Patch's mouth turned grim. "Actually, I don't like the sound of that."
"If it's any consolation, I can't stand Dante. Don't sweat this."
"My girlfriend wants to date another guy, no sweat."
"It's for appearances. Look on the bright side - "
Patch laughed, but the humor was lacking. "There's a bright side? — Becca Fitzpatrick

Then let's do the interview over the phone. I've got a list of questions right-'
He hung up on me.
I stared at the phone in disbelief, then ripped a clean sheet of paper from my notebook. I scribbled Jerk on the first line. On the line beneath it I added, smokes cigars. Will die of lung cancer. Hopefully soon. Excellent physical shape. — Becca Fitzpatrick

The antique, almost primitive band he held between his fingers caught the sunlight, glinting silver. I found this ring shortly after I was banished from heaven. I kept it to remind myself of how endless my sentence was, how eternal one small choice can be. I've kept it a long time. I want you to have it. You broke my suffering. You've given me a new eternity. Be my girl, Nora. Be my everything. — Becca Fitzpatrick

If he was my boyfriend, and I'd meant something to him, where was he now?
"Anything else you can give me on Patch?"
"I hardly knew the guy, and what I knew scared the crap out of me. I'll see if I can hunt him down, but I can't make any promises. In the meantime, let's focus on a sure thing. If we can get enough dirt on Hank, maybe we can figure out why he's taken an interest in you and your mom and what he's planning next, and come up with a way to bring him down. We've both got something to gain from this. You in, Grey?"
"Oh, I'm in," I said fiercely. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I was terrified of what might have happened to you," I choked out.
"I was terrified thinking the same about you."
"The devilcraft-" I began.
Patch exhaled beneath me, and my body dipped with his. His breath carried relief and raw emotion. His eyes, stripped of everything but sincerity, found mine. "My skin can be replaced. But you can't, Angel. When Dante left, I thought it was over. I thought I'd failed you. I've never prayed so hard in my life. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Just then Patch ambled through the front door. I did a double take to make it was really him. I hadn't expected him to come. We'd never resolved our fight, and I'd pridefully refused to take the first step, forcing myself to lock my cell phone in a drawer every time I was tempted to call him and apologize, despite my increasing distress that he might never call either. My pride immediately turned to relief at the sight of him. I hated fighting. I hated not having him close. If he was ready to mend this, so was I.A smile flickered across my face at the sight of his costume; black jeans, black t-shirt, black face mask. The latter concealed all but his cool, assessing gaze.
"There's my date," I said. "Fashionably late. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Try it on."
"It's probably a little snug. Marcie tends to buy down when it comes to sizing." He merely smiled.
"It has a slit up the thigh." His smile depened.
"Zip it up?"
Patch's eyes made a slow assessment of me, sharpening to vivid black. "I'm going to have a hard time sending you off with Scott in that dress. Just a heads-up, if you come home and the dress looks even slightly tampered with, I will track Scott down, and when I find him, it won't be pretty. — Becca Fitzpatrick

He bowed is head into my throat, groaning softly. "I loved you long before you loved me. It's the only thing I have you beat at, and I'll bring it up every chance I get." His mouth pressed to my skin, took on a devilish curve. "Lets get out of here. I'm taking you back to my place, this time for good. We have unfinished business, and I think its time we do something about it. — Becca Fitzpatrick

There's an organic grocery store just off the highway exit. I can't remember the last time I went shopping for food." A smile glittered in his eyes. "I might have gone overboard."
I walked into the kitchen, with gleaming stainless-steel appliances, black granite countertops, and walnut cabinetry. Very masculine, very sleek. I went for the fridge first. Water bottles, spinach and arugula, mushrooms, gingerroot, Gorgonzola and feta cheeses, natural peanut butter, and milk on one side. Hot dogs, cold cuts, Coke, chocolate pudding cups, and canned whipped cream on the other. I tried to picture Patch pushing a shopping cart down the aisle, tossing in food as it pleased him. It was all I could do to keep a straight face. — Becca Fitzpatrick

If I asked you to do something for me, I don't suppose you'd listen?" When he had my attention, he continued, "I'm going to take you home. Try to forget tonight happened. Try to act normal, especially around Hank. Don't mention my name."
By way of an answer, I shot him a black look and swung out of the Tahoe. He followed suit, coming around to my side.
"What kind of answer is that?" He asked, but his voice wasn't nearly so gruff. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Hmm?' I looked away, flustered automatically using irritation to cover my discomfort up. 'What does 'hmm' have to do with anything? Could you ever use more that five words? All this grunting and minced words make you come across
primal.'
His smile tipped higher. 'Primal.'
'You're impossible.'
'Me Jev, you Nora.'
-Nora & Patch (PG 226) — Becca Fitzpatrick

What do I have to do to convince you that I'm only using Dabria for one reason, one only reason: Destroy Hank, bit by bit if is necessary,and make him pay for all the things he has done to harm the girl I love? — Becca Fitzpatrick

Nice costume," he said.
"Ditto. I can tell you put a lot of thought into yours."
Amusement curled his mouth. "If you don't like it, I can take it off. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Patch wore black jeans and a matching T- shirt that hugged his form. He rested his hands on my shoulders, facing me. "Ready?"
Despite the grim mood, I smiled and cracked my knuckles. "Ready to wrestle my gorgeous boyfriend? Oh, I'd say I'm ready for that."
Amusement softened his eyes.
"I'll try to control where I put my hands, but in the heat of things, who knows what could happen?" I added.
Patch grinned. "Sounds promising. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I have a free couple of hours," I told him, walking toward my car, which was parked on the next block. "There's a very private, very secluded barn in Lookout Hill Park behind the carousel. I could be there in fifteen minutes."
I heard the smile in his voice. "You want me bad. — Becca Fitzpatrick

You're a liar!"
He turned around, his black eyes snapping. "I'm also a thief, a gambler, a cheat, and a murdered. But this happens to be one of the rare times when I'm telling the truth. Go home. Consider yourself lucky. You've got a chance to start fresh. Not everyone can say the same. — Becca Fitzpatrick

What does 'hmm' have to do with anything? Could you ever use more than five words? All this grunting and minced words make you come across - primal."

His smile tipped higher. "Primal."

"You're impossible."

"Me Jev, you Nora. — Becca Fitzpatrick

His smile was sexy and warned of trouble, but I'd made up my mind that not all trouble was bad. — Becca Fitzpatrick

This isn't your fight, Patch," I said quietly.
His eyes burned with an intensity I'd never seen before. "You're mine, Angel, and don't you forget it. Your fights are my fights. What if something had happened today? It was bad enough when I thought your ghost was haunting me; I don't think I could handle the real thing. — Becca Fitzpatrick

If we're doing this for ten hours, I'm going to need a little incentive to stay motivated."
Patch hooked his elbow around my neck and dragged me into a kiss. "Every time you strip my sword, I owe you a kiss. How's that sound?"
I bit my lip to keep from giggling. "That sounds really dirty."
Patch waggled his eyebrows. "Look whose mind just rolled into the gutter. Two kisses per strip. Any objections?"
I pulled on an innocent face. "None whatsoever. — Becca Fitzpatrick

We still have a lot to talk about," I said. "Talk?" He shook his head, his eyes full of desire. Kiss, he whispered to my thoughts. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Without a word, I moved beside him.He slid the cutting board in front of me.
"First," he said, coming behind me and placing his hands on the counter, just outside of mine, "choose your tomato." He dipped his head so his mouth was at my ear. His breath was warm, tickling my skin. "Good. Now pick up the knife."
"Does the hef always stand this close?" I asked, not sure If I liked of feared the flutter his closeness caused inside me.
"When he is revealing culinary secrets, yes. Hold the knife like you mean it. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I trailed off. Patch leaned lazily against the counter. Dark hair flipped out from under his ball cap. A smile tugged at his mouth. My thoughts dissolved and just like that, a new thought broke the surface of my mind.
I wanted to kiss him. Right now. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Coach: "All right, Patch. let's say you're at a party. the room is full of girls of all shapes and sizes. You see blondes, brunettes, redheads, a few girl with black hair. Some are talkive, while other appear shy. You've one girl who fits your profile - attractive, intelligent and vulnerable. Dow do you let her know you're interested?"
Patch: "Single her out. Talk to her."
Coach: "Good. Now for the big question - how do you know if she's game or if she wants you to move on?"
Patch: "I study her. I figure out what she's thinking and feeling. She's not gonig to come right out and tell me, which is why i have to pay attention. Does she turn her body toward mine? Does she hold me eyes, then look away? Does she bite her lip and play with her hair, the way Nora is doing right now? — Becca Fitzpatrick

Every time you strip my sword, I owe you a kiss. How's that sound?" I bit my lip to keep from giggling.
"That sounds really dirty."
Patch waggled his brows. "Look whose mind just rolled into the gutter. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I'm telling you this because I want you to know that I know something about you isn't right. You haven't fooled everybody. I'm going to find out what you're up to. I'm going to expose you."
"Looking forward to it. — Becca Fitzpatrick

He grinned. "Busted. I'm a monster. Jev is my deceptively harmless - and shockingly handsome - alter ego."
"And I'm on top of it," she announced with witty triumph.
"Is that a Freudian slip?"
His bluntness caught her off guard. A self-conscious blush rose in her face. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Positive. In other news, Marcie's throwing a Halloween party here at the farmhouse."
Patch smiled. "Grey - Millar family drama?"
"The theme is famous couples from history. Could she be any less original? Worse, she's roped my mom into this. They went shopping for decorations today. For three whole hours. It's like they're suddenly best friends." I picked up another apple slice and made a face at it. "Marcie is ruining everything. I wanted Scott to go with Vee, but Marcie already convinced him to go with her." Patch's smile widened.
I aimed my best sulky look at him. "This isn't funny. Marcie is destroying my life. Whose side are you on anyway?"
Patch raised his hands in surrender. "I'm staying out of this. — Becca Fitzpatrick

He tasted deeper, holding himself over me, and suddenly he was everywhere; his knee trapping my leg, his lips grazing warm, rough, sensuous. He splayed his hand at the small of my back, holding me tightly, driving me to sink my fingers deeper into him, clinging to him as if letting go would mean losing part of myself. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I could get you to smile like that, and without sales tax."
I whirled around to find the real Patch standing in the fitting room behind me. He was wearing jeans and a snug white tee. His arms were folded loosely over his chest, and his black eyes smiled down at me.
Heat that wasn't entirely uncomfortable flushed through my body.
"I could make all kinds of pervert jokes right now," I quipped. — Becca Fitzpatrick

And here I thought they were called Peeping Toms." I didn't need to see him to know he wore a smile.
"Stop laughing," I said, my cheeks hot with humiliation. "Get me down."
"Jump."
"What?"
"I'll catch you."
"Are you crazy? Go inside and open the window. Or get a ladder."
"I don't need a ladder. Jump. I'm not going to drop you. — Becca Fitzpatrick

You're crazy. You're impossible."
"I'm crazy?"
He tipped my chin up and planted a quick, rough kiss on my mouth. "And I must be crazy for putting up with it. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I tilted my chin up a fraction. "You can't f-force me to stay here." I'd only agreed to come this far because I didn't want to stand out in the downpour, for one, and I had high hopes of finding a phone, for two.
"That sounded more like a question than a statement," said Patch.
"Then ans-s-swer it."
His rogue smile crept out. "It's hard to concentrate on answers with you looking like that."
I glanced down at Patch's black shirt, wet and clinging to my body. I brushed past him and shut the bathroom door between us. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Since we're keeping it primal, you smell good," he observed.
"It's called a shower ... ," I began automatically, then trailed off. My memory snagged, taken aback by a compelling and forceful sense of undue familiarity. "Soap, shampoo, hot water," I added, almost as an afterthought.
"Naked. I know the drill," Jev said, something unreadeble passing over his eyes. — Becca Fitzpatrick

After school I drove to Patch's. I did the safety conscious thing and circled the block a few times before parking in the freshly paved lot with extra wide parking spaces. I didn't like feeling like I constantly had to watch my back, but I liked surprise visits from unfriendly Nephilim and devious archangels even less. And as far as the outside world knew, Patch and I were Splitsville. Using my key, I let myself inside. — Becca Fitzpatrick

It was foolish to feel like a girl getting ready for a date. Gennie told herself that as she unlocked the door to the cottage.She'd told herself the same thing as she'd driven away from town...as she'd turned down the quiet lane.
It was a spur of the moment cookout-two adults,a steak,and a bottle of burgundy that may or may not have been worth the price. A person would have to look hard to find any romance in charcoal, lighter fluid and some freshly picked greens from a patch in the backyard. Not for the first time, Gennie thought it a pity her imagination was so expansive.
It had undoubtedly been imagination that had brought on that rush of feeling in the churhcyard. A little unexpected tenderness, a soft breeze and she heard bells. Silly.
Gennie set the bags on the kitchen counter and wished she'd bought candles. Candlelight would make even that tidy,practical little kitchen seem romantic.And if she had a radio, there could be music... — Nora Roberts

His finger flicked open a button on my cardigan-then two, three, four. It tumbled off my shoulders, leaving me in my camisole. He pushed up the hem, teasing and stroking his thumb across my stomach. My breath came in a sharp intake of air. — Becca Fitzpatrick

It will cost me a lot to send you with Scott wearing that dress but, just so you know: if you come with that dress even slightly wrinkled, I will trace Scott, and when I find him, it's not gonna be pretty. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I'm not the distraction in the room."
"Oh? And what might be? — Becca Fitzpatrick

And you would have lost. We were surrounded. He threatened your life, and he would have made good on that threat. He had you, and that meant he had me, too. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Patch's eyes made a slow assessment of me, sharpening to vivid black. "I'm going to have a hard time sending you off with Scott in that dress. Just a heads-up: If you come home and the dress looks even slightly tampered with, I will track Scott down, and when I find him, it won't be pretty."
"I'll relay the message."
"If you tell me where he's hiding, I'll relay it myself."
I had to work not to smile. "Something tells me your message would be a lot more direct."
"Let's just say he'd get the point. — Becca Fitzpatrick

But if the choice I have to make comes down to you or me, I choose you.
I always have.
All my love,
Patch — Becca Fitzpatrick

I don't have the body for this," I quipped, lifting my chin to a voluptous woman nearby who shook her hips zealously to the beat. "No curves."
Jev's eyes held mine. "Are you asking my opinion? — Becca Fitzpatrick

The blood vessels in Nora's face are widening and her skin is warming," Patch said. "She knows she's being evaluated. She likes the attention, but she's not sure how to handle it."
"I am not blushing."
"She's nervous," Patch said. "She's stroking her arm to draw attention away from her face and down to her figure, or maybe her skin. Both are strong selling points. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I sent Patch a text. GUESS WHERE I AM?
I DON'T HAVE TO GUESS. YOU'RE WEARING THE TRACKING DEVICE, he answered.
I looked down. Sure enough, I'd worn the jean jacket today.
GIVE ME 20 AND I'LL BE THERE, Patch texted. WHICH ROOM SPECIFICALLY ARE YOU IN?
YOUR BEDROOM.
MAKE THAT TEN MINUTES. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Patch backed me into a tree and kissed me, hard.
I regained my breath. Boys take not everywhere: That was a kiss. — Becca Fitzpatrick

He tried to pull me against him, and I bit him on the lip.
He licked his lip with the tip of his tongue. 'Did you just bite me? — Becca Fitzpatrick

My mom's coming home soon," I said. "We should go to your place."
Patch ran a hand across the shadow of stubble along his jaw. "I have rules about who I take there." I was getting really tired of that answer.
"If you showed me, you'd have to kill me?" I guessed, fighting the urge to feel irritated. "Once I'm inside, I can never leave?"
Patch studied me a moment. Then he reached into his pocket, twisted a key off his key chain, and slipped it into the front pocket of my pajama top. "Once you've gone inside, you have to keep coming back. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Is that a yes?" he asked, pushing his fingers through my hair, fanning it out around my shoulders and searching my face intently. "Please let it be yes," he said with a gravelly edge. "Stay with me tonight. Let me hold you, even if that's all it is. Let me keep you safe. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I stared at the phone in disbelief, then ripped a clean sheet of paper from my notebook. I scribbled ' Jerk ' on the first line. On the line beneath it I added, ' Smokes cigars. Will die of lung cancer. Hopefully soon. — Becca Fitzpatrick

He was abominable ... and the most alluring, tortured soul I'd ever met. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I don't have a car."
His eyes sliced into mine.
"I walked here," I explained. "I'm on foot."
"Angel," he said in a way that sounded like he sincerely hoped I was joking. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Patch reached for my hand and pushed my dad's ring off the tip of his finger and into my palm, curling my fingers around it. He kissed my knuckles. "I was going to give this back earlier, but it wasn't finished."
I opened my palm and held the ring up. The same heart was engraved on the underside, but now there were two names carved on either side of it: NORA and JEV.
I looked up. "Jev? That's your real name?"
"Nobody's called me that in a long time. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I need to brush my teeth. And I need a shower."
He grinned, hopping off the bike. "Now that is an invitation. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I personally believe Patch scared the pants off normal, and it took off running for the far side of the world. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep beside you each night," Patch told me gravely. "I want to take care of you, cherish you, and love you in a way no other man ever could. I want to spoil you - every kiss, every touch, every thought, they all belong to you. I'll make you happy. Every day, I'll make you happy. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I study her," Patch said. "I figure out what she's thinking and feeling. She's not going to come right out and tell me, which is why I have to pay attention. Does she turn her body toward mine? Does she hold my eyes, then look away? Does she bite her lip and play with her hair, the way Nora is doing right now?" Laughter rose in the room. I dropped my hands to my lap. "She's game," said Patch, bumping my leg again.
Of all things, I blushed. — Becca Fitzpatrick

If I could make this go away, I would. If I could stand in your place, I wouldn't hesitate. But I'm left with one choice, and that's to stand by your side through the end. I won't waver, Angel, I can promise you that. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Does Patch have a restraining order against him?' he read. 'Is Patch a felon?'
'Give-me-that!' I hissed furiously.
Patch gave a soft laugh, and I knew he'd seen the next question. 'Does Patch have a girlfriend? — Becca Fitzpatrick

Do you think they're going to buy that a guy in tacky leather chaps dances like this?" I scoffed when he twirled me back into his embrace.
"Keep it up, and I'll put you in the chaps." He didn't smile, but I sensed an undercurrent of amusement. — Becca Fitzpatrick

But instead of taking the cue to leave, Patch crossed to Scott in three steps. He flung him around to face the wall. Scott tried to get his bearings, but Patch slammed him against the wall again, disorienting him further. "Touch her," he said in Scott's ear, his voice low and threatening, "and it'll be the biggest regret of your life."
Before leaving, Patch flicked his eyes once in my direction. "He's not worth it." He paused. "And neither am I. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I blinked down the street where the jeep had vanished. I felt the unexplainable urge to storm after them and do something I'd hoped I'd regret -like choke Marcie with her stupid red thong. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I had fun last night," I told Patch, flicking off my chin strap and handing over my helmet. "I'm officially in love with your sheets."
"That the only thing you're in love with?"
"Nope. Your mattress, too."
Some smile crept into Patch's eyes. "My bed's an open invitation. — Becca Fitzpatrick

How about a ... deal?" His face was bent down, shadowed, and he looked up at me through his lashes. The effect was an impression of trustworthiness. "Help me make tacos, and I'll answer a dew of your questions. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I love you." His voice was straightforward, affectionate. "You make me remember who I used to be. You make me want to be that man again. Right now, holding you, I feel like we have a shot at beating all odds and making it together. I'm yours, if you'll have me. — Becca Fitzpatrick