“Yes.”

Ramirez’s grin was so big, twin dimples popped out on his cheeks. “Good. Now, let’s get to your mom’s before the Terror drools on every available seat.”

I grabbed my purse, slipping my new pink key inside. Somehow it felt a little heavier. Fuller. Actually, it felt kind of nice. Like I had a little piece of Ramirez with me everywhere I went now.

I bit back a big, goofy grin.

“By the way, ” Ramirez said, his lips close to my ear as I closed the door behind us, “I do expect you to use that key tonight.”

My stomach flipped, sending a shiver right down to my toes.

Oh, boy.

Gemma Halliday

***
Вы читаете Undercover In High Heels
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