Page 145 of Meet Me in the Valley
Thankfully, the Violet Inn is only a few miles away. Once she sees my bike out front, she freezes. I know why. It’s not the bike she’s expecting to see.
“H-how did you? Did youride thisall the way here?!” Tia looks on, stunned.
My God. She’s a vision in red.
I take a mental snapshot of her lookingjust like this.
Her hair falls effortlessly over one shoulder like she knew exactly what it would do to me. That dress hugs every curve like it was sewn onto her bare skin, clinging to her long, sin-worthy frame in all the right places. She looks like trouble, like temptation, likehome—and I’ve never wanted anything more.
“Logan?” Tia cuts through my thoughts.
“Hm?”
She points to the bike. “That’s … your Austin bike.” Her tone shifts like she’s piecing together a puzzle.
“Yeah.”
Her face says it all—wide-eyed, jaw just barely dropped. I take another mental snapshot. I’ll be collecting a lot of those tonight.
“How long have you been riding?”
“Three days.”
“Three days?!”
I laugh at her shock, fingers lacing through hers as I guide her toward the bike.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” I say. “I raced like hell to get here by midnight.”
“But—but—” she stammers adorably, blinking fast. “If you rodethishere, then … does that mean?—”
I kiss her senseless before she can spiral further, my mouth firm on hers, cutting through the questions she already knows the answers to.
She knows why I rode across state lines instead of flying. She knows what it means. What she doesn’t know is that the rest of my things from Texas arrive tomorrow.
For good.
We pull back to draw in a sharp breath. The hazel in her eyes shine as they bore into mine.
“You told me to come back to you,” I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, baby.Our time,remember?”
The gold watch on her wrist catches the light, glowing against the warm tan of her skin. I lift her hand, tap the watch face twice, then steal another kiss.
“Come on, T.”
I offer her the spare helmet, but she hesitates. Her eyes flick down her body, then toward the bike, and that’s when it hits me.
“This dress isn’t exactly straddle-friendly,” she says, shifting her weight like she’s testing angles.
I glance down at the tight, painted-on red number and chuckle quietly. “Yeah … didn’t really think that one through.”
Tia taps a finger to her chin, and in an instant the shift in her eyes tells me everything. My minx just clocked in for mischief.
“What’s that look for?” I ask, leaning back on my bike as I rake my gaze over her—again. And again and again. Fuck, I can’t get enough.
She sweeps our surroundings with a quick, calculating glance. Then her hands slide behind her back.
“Baby,” I rasp, rough with warning. “What are you?—”
