Light from Her Mirror (Mirrors Don't Lie Book 3) by Becki Willis

been my punishment,” he told her in a low voice. “It’s tearing me up,
thinking you may hate me for leaving. I don’t sleep at night.”
    “I
don’t hate you,” she assured him. “And you need to sleep.” She bumped her
shoulder against his, trying to lighten the mood. Already her heart felt
lighter, knowing he had at least wanted to call. “You have dark circles under
your eyes.”
    “They
go with my new biker persona.” 
    “You?”
she hooted. “A biker?” She tried to picture Travis in a do-rag and leather
jacket, with chains and gloves and full biker gear. The image was as hilarious
as it was sexy. “That, I would love to see!”
    “I
prefer horses over bikes any day.”
    “So
what’s your road name?” she grinned, still imagining him on a bike, long legs
tucked up to his ears.
    “How
did we get into this conversation?” he scowled.
    “Aw,
come on, tell me your road name. What’s it going to hurt?”
    “You
don’t need to get mixed up in any of this, Kenzie.”
    “Mixed
up? You’re four hours away. I just want to know what they call you.”
    While
he hesitated, she leaned forward just a bit, bumping her shoulder against his
chest. She lingered there, grinning up at him. “Come on, Ranger, tell me.”
    He
finally relented. She was simply too hard to resist. “Stix.”
    Recklessly
flirting with him, she leaned back and raked her eyes over his long, lean body.
“I can see that,” she murmured. Moving in close again, she teased, “Hey, Stix,
if you ever need a motorcycle mama, I’m your gal. You should see my tuck.”
    Travis
looked at her skeptically. “How do you know about the tuck? And about bikers in
general?”
    “Wouldn’t
you like to know!” Her mood had completely changed, suddenly playful and happy,
now that Travis was near.
    “I’m
serious, woman, what do you know about bikers? Some of them can be a rough
crowd, you know. I don’t like the idea of you being mixed up with them.”
    “Yes,
but some are simply weekend warriors. Or better yet, just waxers. Completely
harmless.”
    “And
you know this lingo, how?”
    Kenzie
laughed at his stern look. “Relax, Stix. I did a shoot on a bike club once. I
learned all sorts of interesting tidbits and lingo. And yes, they were a club,
not a gang.”
    When
she started to pull back away, she found his arms had come up around her.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he grumbled, keeping her close.
    All
pretense fell away. Kenzie drew in a shaky breath. Her lungs filled with the
enticing smell of male musk and spicy cologne and, yes, she thought, a touch of
leather; the seductive and alluring essence that was uniquely Travis. It filled
her lungs as a burst of desire filled her senses. Her heart overflowed with
love.
    Pushing
herself closer against him, she lifted her face to his. “I’ll go crazy,” she
whispered, “if you don’t kiss me right this minute.”
    He
had no smart comeback. He simply did as she requested. One arm snagged low
around her waist, the other hand pressed against her back to keep her close as
he lowered his mouth to hers. Soon his fingers found their way into the messy
curls that fell from her bun as the kiss deepened and she melted into him.
    “Too
long,” he muttered into her mouth.
    Someone
was calling her name. Kenzie groaned when she recognized the voice. She
blatantly ignored the intrusion, much more interested in how Travis’s hair,
longer now, brushed along his collar and tickled her fingers.
    “Kenzie,
it’s time to eat,” the voice called. “I brought your plate so we can get in -”
The man carrying the empty paper plate stopped mid-sentence as he turned the
corner and found her sharing a heated kiss with the lanky Texas Ranger. “Oh.
Pardon me,” he said stiffly. He turned away before they could untangle
themselves from each other’s arms.
    “Who
was that?” Travis muttered.
    “Mike?
Mark? Maybe his name was Matt. The mayor’s son, I think. Or maybe he was the
Governor’s