Chapter 103 An Idyllic Interlude

• He opened the passenger side door, which swung up like an old mailbox flag rather than out. She lowered herself inside and secretly ran her hands over the butter soft leather. The Italians somehow managed to make cars that were fuel inefficient but never failed to capture the male imagination.
• Gray sat in the driver’s seat. The engine came to life and settled into a low, pulsing rumble. He touched the accelerator, and the car shot out from its spot. They dashed along the narrow streets and into the traffic of the parkway.
• "You are driving way too fast," she said. "This area is crawling with cops."