Jax added another line to the last verse, and then strummed his guitar again. He should really be working on something to send to his agent, but this song was weighing on him. It was one he’d been writing for almost eight years now, and no one but him would ever hear it. He told himself a thousand times to throw it away, but he hadn’t been able to make himself do it.
A soft knock reached his ears, and he looked up to see Shelby peeking in. “Is that a new song? Could you play it for me? It sounds pretty.”
Waving Ian’s daughter in, he tried to think of something to say to distract her. He never played this song for anyone, ever. But he didn’t want to turn her away or tell her no. Shelby was just starting to come out of her shell with the fighters, and it was taking her even longer to come around to him, probably because he didn’t talk much. This was the first time she’d approached him, and he wanted to make her comfortable.
Shelby lived with her mother’s tribe until earlier this year, when Ian got custody of her. And she wasn’t treated well in the past, insulted and made to feel less than others her whole life. The tigers were prideful bastards who prized beauty, and Shelby had a birthmark down the side of her face. She’d been mocked and ridiculed since birth, and it made her shy and wary of people around her.
“How are you doing, short stuff?”
Shooting him a look, he caught a glimpse of her bright blue eyes through her curtain of light brown hair. “I’m not short.”
“You are compared to me.”
“Because you’re a grownup,” she told him seriously. “I’m just a kid. I’m still growing.”
“I understand now. Thank you for explaining it to me,” he replied, as seriously as she had.
“So can I hear the song? It sounded really nice.”
Squirming, he looked down for a moment in thought. But what the hell, why not? Someone should hear it at some point. Nodding to her, he started strumming the chords and opened his mouth to sing the words he’d lifted straight from his heart.
“When I saw you for the first time…“ he sang, closing his eyes to imagine Piper’s face as he let the words flow from his lips.
When he was finished, his fingers stilled as he said, “It’s not completely finished yet, but there you have it.”
“Oh, Jax. That was beautiful,” she told him, eyes wide and voice soft. “Have you played it for your mate yet?”
Jerking his head toward her, his mouth opened and closed a few times before he found his voice. “How did you know I have a mate?”
“I know lots of things. Everyone always forgets I’m in the room, probably because I’m small and quiet, and they talk. Her name is Piper, right? I know she’s back in town. You should play her the song. If she knew you felt those things, she wouldn’t be able to resist you anymore.”
“I don’t think she cares much about what’s in this song, Shelby.”
“I think you’re wrong. But don’t give up. If you give up, she’ll think you don’t want her, and every girl wants to know she’s wanted. And once she really starts to pay attention, play her that song. That would clinch the deal.”
Patting his hand, Shelby got up and walked out of the room. Jax watched her go with his mouth open, wondering how the hell so much grown up wisdom fit in that small, eight-year-old body.
Setting the guitar back in the stand, he reached in the container by the bed and grabbed the last of the cookies Piper made yesterday. Munching thoughtfully, he decided Shelby was right. Not about the song. He wasn’t going to play that for Piper. But he couldn’t slow up his pursuit, or she would talk herself out of whatever feelings she was developing for him again.
Standing up, he grabbed the container and jogged down the stairs, heading for the kitchen. He was sad that he’d eaten them already, but returning the container gave him an excuse to go back to her house. Quickly washing and drying it, he headed to his truck and drove to Piper’s. Relief filled him when he spotted her car, but he frowned when his knock went unanswered. Hearing music, he followed the noise around the house.
The side door was open, and he looked in to see Piper dancing around the kitchen to the music as she cleaned. Lips quirking as he watched her, he waited a few moments before knocking on the screen door, not speaking until she whirled around to see him.
“Are you still listening to this shit, Piper?”
Scowling, she put her hands on her hips as she watched him walk in. “It’s good music, St. James.”
“Nickelback is not music. Did I teach you nothing when we were younger?”
“Is, too. It’s not only music, but it’s good music, fuck you very much. Maybe it’s not what you write or enjoy, but that doesn’t mean it automatically sucks.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You been following my career?”
“What—I—no,” she sputtered, cheeks turning pink. “I heard a song once on the radio that sounded like you, is all.”
Shifters could hear lies, and that was a complete and total falsehood, but he wasn’t going to call her on it. Just knowing she followed his career and knew his music was enough for him. “I hear you. At least turn that shit down a little. You’re gonna make everyone on this street want to move if they have to listen to it more than once a year.”
Shooting him a dirty look, she turned the volume down some. “What are you doing here anyway? You’re not exactly welcome at this house.”
“Thought you might want your bowl back,” he said, holding it up for her to see.
“Could have just thrown it in the trash. I’d have been more than okay with that,” she snapped.
Walking over to the counter to put it down, he turned and studied her. His eyes caught on the script tattooed on her arm, and he read it again, eyes shooting up to meet hers.
“And now that tattoo makes sense. Oh, Piper, tell me you didn’t.”
“What?” she asked in confusion, glancing down at her arms.
“The tat on you forearm, that says ‘If Today Was Your Last Day’. I thought it was just some motivational shit, but it’s the title of a Nickelback song. Please, tell me you don’t have fangirl ink.”
“Would it make you leave me alone if I said yes?” she asked with a smirk. “No, it’s not fangirl ink, per se. The song just speaks to me. Live every day like it’s your last. I wanted a tattoo so I could remember that.”
“Thank God,” he said, genuine relief washing over him. He was determined to win her over on this, and get her to realize that Nickelback was an embarrassment to music as a whole, and rock music in particular, and he told her the last part.
“Oh get over yourself,” she replied with an eye roll. Raising her arm, she showed him more script on the inside of her upper arm. “I have another one here. This is a Nickelback song title, too.”
Stepping closer, he read the script, ‘What Are You Waiting For?’, and the smartass remark on his tongue died as he glanced up and got caught in her unusual violet eyes. They were eyes he’d known for years, eyes he saw in his dreams every night, but the violet color still had the power to take his breath.
“So tell me, Piper,” he said, walking closer and leaning in. “What are you waiting for? I’m right here in front of you.”
Her breathing hitched, eyes dropping to his lips as she licked her own. Nearly groaning, he held himself still, praying she’d kiss him, or let him kiss her. She leaned in just a tad, stilling when barking came from the back yard. Pulling back, she shook her head, the dazed look fading from her eyes as she stepped away and went to the back door.
“Snickers!” she called, frowning when the barking stopped but he didn’t come. She called the dog’s name again, sounding concerned, and then stepped outside.
Taking a deep breath and willing his body to calm, Jax followed behind her. He walked outside to see her walking around calling her dog’s name, and this time her voice sounded frantic. Frowning, he followed her, breaking out into a run at her cry. He found her by the fence behind the gazebo, staring at a hole under the fence.
“Shit! I didn’t even know this hole was back here. It’s not like Snickers to dig like this,” she said, looking at him with tears in her eyes that hit him right in the solar plexus.
“It’s okay. We’ll find him,” he replied, putting his arm around her shoulders.
“People will want to keep him if they find him. They never want to return him. I’ve had more people in Seattle try to steal him in the last few years than you would believe.”
“We’ll find him first,” he said firmly, guiding her back through the house, checking to make sure the doors were locked.
“He never stays put. Ever since I got him. If a door is open, he’ll run out, and he’s fast. I knew this. I did, so why the hell didn’t I check the fence more thoroughly? And why are we getting in your truck?”
“Because we can cover more ground if we’re in the truck. You said yourself, he’s fast. We have a better chance of finding him if we can cover more ground faster. And this isn’t your fault, Piper.”
He said the words firmly as he shut her door behind her. Because no, it definitely wasn’t her fault. That hole hadn’t been dug by her dog. It was man made, but he wasn’t going to tell her that right now. Once they found Snickers, he’d tell her the truth.