Time Served by Julianna Keyes

Author:Julianna Keyes [Keyes, Julianna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781426899621
Google: BQ3NBAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00OHWE8Z0
Barnesnoble: B00OHWE8Z0
Goodreads: 23595441
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2015-03-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

I haven’t seen or heard from Dean since saying goodbye Thursday morning, so I’m not entirely confident he’ll turn up for our Cranston trip on Sunday. I buy a bouquet of flowers, and grip them tight enough to crush the stems as I exit the building at twelve o’clock on the dot. I can’t decide if the fluttering in my chest is nerves or pleasure when I find Dean leaning against the wall, waiting, hands tucked into his pockets. He’s not wearing sweats for once; instead he’s in dark wash jeans and a black T-shirt, with casual shoes instead of sneakers.

“Hey,” he says, pushing away from the wall. He looks me over, his perusal as tangible as fingers tracing my body. I wasn’t really sure what one wore to place flowers on a grave, and had relied on my standard uniform of a black skirt, white silk top and strappy sandals.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” I say, taking him in. Big and solid, terrifying and reassuring.

“I said I would.” This is punctuated by the predictable shrug as we fall into step and head down to the end of the block where I’d parked the car.

“This is us. I rented it this morning.” I don’t know much about cars; it’s dark blue, automatic, has four doors and air-conditioning. I wouldn’t know what to do with more features.

“Cool.” Dean sticks out his hand. “Hand ’em over.”

I glance down at the flowers. “What for?”

He nods at the keys. “I’ll drive.”

“Ha.” I start to walk around the car. “I don’t think so. Do you even have a license?”

Dean snags me by the back of the shirt and pulls me into his chest. “Of course I do,” he says, dipping his head to speak into my ear. “You think they take your license away when you go to prison?”

I ignore the way my entire body lights up when he touches me and say, “You don’t even have a car.”

“So? Neither do you.” He corrals my clenched fist and tries to steal the keys.

“Dean. I’m driving.” I try to stomp on his foot but he evades me.

“Try that again and I’ll dump you on your ass,” he warns.

I lift my foot and bring it down, this time finding his toes. It’s not hard enough to do any real damage but Dean curses, the arm around my waist tightening, and he twists me around so we’re face-to-face, breathing hard.

“Push me down and I’m never having sex with you again,” I warn, doing my best to keep my eyes locked on his and not get distracted by his mouth.

He smiles slightly. “Can’t have that.” He backs me into the side of the car and trails his fingers down my arm, wrapping his hand around the fist clenching the keys. “Give it up, Rachel. You’re not driving.”

I’m finding it a little hard to breathe, and as much as I try to tell myself it’s because of the anxiety I feel about the trip, my libido would swear that that’s not true.

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