Fight Song (Rocky River Fighters 3)

“I’m not comfortable with you doing this for free,” she replied with a frown.

“We can argue about it when I get back. I’ll be probably about an hour or so. Ian’s going to meet me at the store, help me get it loaded and unloaded here, and down the basement stairs.”

“Works for me. I’m going to run to the grocery store while you’re gone, but I’ll make sure I’m back before you return.”

“No need. I know where the spare key is hidden,” he said with a wink before turning and striding back through the house.

Piper stared after him, feeling a little like she’d been stunned stupid by that wink. Shaking herself, she turned to make sure the back door was locked and grabbed her purse off the table. As soon as she got back, she was getting that damned key from its hiding spot.

But she couldn’t even make herself care about that right now. She was still dazed from that wink.

“What the hell is wrong with you, McCoy?” she asked herself as she made her way to the front door.

But she was scared to learn the answer to her own question. Her bitterness, her anger with Jax faded more with every moment she spent near him. And in their place was growing fear. Fear because she could feel the walls she erected against Jax crumbling, and fear because she could so easily fall for him, and get her heart broken once again.

She struggled to feel the anger she usually felt, and she found it, but it wasn’t directed at Jax—it was for herself, for feeling fear to begin with. For not

being able to stick to her guns. For letting herself forget, even for a moment, that good men were just a myth, and none really existed.

“You’re freakin’ Piper Boss Bitch McCoy. You let nothing, and no one, scare you. You haven’t since you left Scott. Remember that shit,” she muttered as she started the car.

But the mantra she’d repeated to herself every day since her divorce did nothing to bolster her up and make her feel like she could handle anything that came her way, the way it normally did. Instead, the fear continued to creep in around her, its invisible tendrils snaking around her heart and burrowing deep.

Jax pulled up to Piper’s house just as she was opening her trunk. Jumping out of his truck, he rushed to her side. “Here, let me get these.”

He expected her to protest, but she eyed him sideways and nodded, surprising him. “I’ll never turn down an offer to help carry groceries inside. No matter who it’s from,” she added before turning to walk away, hips swaying.

Eyes glued to her ass in the tight shorts, he jumped when Ian cleared his throat next to him. “Shit. A little warning before you do that,” he said with a glare. “I thought you were still in the truck.”

“Because your entire being was focused on watching her walk away,” Ian replied, amused.

Jax rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t argue that. It was the truth. He was just reaching in to grab grocery bags when he heard Piper squeal, the sound loud against his sensitive shifter ears. Jerking out of the trunk, he rushed toward where she was jumping up and down, shaking her hand.

“What? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he asked rapid fire, scanning the surroundings for anyone lurking or running away from the scene.

“Not hurt. That was just fucking disgusting. I need to go stick my hand in bleach,” she said, voice coated with disgust.

Frowning, he looked at her, watching as she continued to shake her hand, her expression grossed out. Reaching out, he grabbed her arm to hold her still so he could look at her hand and check for injuries. “What the fuck is this brown shit on your fingers?”

“It’s shit. Literally,” Ian replied, laughter in his voice.

Glancing over, he saw Ian standing a few feet away, looking at a paper bag on the ground. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The bag was on the porch stairs,” Piper said. “I bent down to pick it up, and it was wet. The bag ripped open and I instinctively tried to catch it right as the smell hit my nose, and I couldn’t get my fingers out of the way fast enough,” she said with a shudder, holding her hand as far away from her body as she could.

Now he saw why Ian was laughing. His lips quirked up, but laughing at this wasn’t going to win him any points with her. He lectured himself sternly, but it did no good.

“Damn, Piper. You’ve been back what, two, three days? How’d you make an enemy so fast? What did you do to deserve a bag of shit on your porch?”

Turning her glare toward him, she spat, “Fuck you, asshole. You know it was probably neighborhood kids, doing it for shits and giggles. Literally,” she said sourly. “Ugh. I need to unlock the door, but I don’t want to touch anything right now.”

“I’ll do it,” he said, reining in his laughter and attempting a solemn face.

“You are not sticking your hand in my pocket for the keys,” she said, glaring again.

“I didn’t know that was an option,” he replied, keeping a straight face until he was past her and she couldn’t see his smile. “I was going to get the spare key.”

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he grabbed the spare key and quickly unlocked the door, pushing it open before shoving the key back into the planter.