She chuckled. “Thank you. Really, truly. Thank you.” Glancing away, she rolled her lips together. “I do want you to understand that . . . it’s not only BIKER. That is”—she fidgeted—“that’s not the only thing I love.” Warmth bloomed in his stomach and spread out to his limbs. “Miss Larkin, I am not a thing.” She swatted at him. “Do not make this difficult.” “Am I difficult to love?” She met his eyes. “No.” Those strands came loose, so he tucked them behind her ear again. “I love you, too.”
