His heart would have recognized Piper instantly in a crowd of thousands, but it was taking his mind a bit to catch up to the changes she’d made to her appearance. Her brown hair was dyed black, parted on the right, and shaved from the part to her ear. The rest was long, hitting her mid back, and streaks of bright purple started about halfway down.
Her face was as beautiful as ever, her violet eyes highlighted with black eyeliner and mascara. Her lips were the same, a touch too full for her face, and he could see a diamond stud winking from her pert nose. Her hair was covering one ear, but on the other, she had a row of earrings marching down her ear, with silver hoops resting in her two bottom holes.
She started tapping the toe of one booted foot impatiently, and his eyes dropped before slowly making their way back up again. Her snug jeans were ripped and frayed, and just a sliver of skin was visible over her belt, from where her crossed arms were pulling her form fitting green tank top up. There was a tendri
l of a tattoo visible, curling around to her stomach from her back.
Forcing his eyes higher, he saw the ink on her arms, the thick leather band she wore on one wrist, and her generous cleavage, pushed higher by her arms. He caught a glimpse of another tat peeking out from the neckline of her tank top, and what little wits he had remaining fled as he swallowed hard against the desire heating his blood.
The wholesome looking Piper of his youth had been beautiful beyond belief, and he wouldn’t have changed a thing about her. She’d lamented her girl next door looks on more than one occasion, and he told her more times than he could remember that she couldn’t improve upon perfection. And if she still looked like that Piper, he’d say the same thing again.
But this… this grown up, tough, badass Piper, was fucking hot. She looked like she could chew up and spit out anyone who crossed her, including him. And judging by the way she was glaring at him, that’s what she wanted to do. But for some perverse reason, he felt himself getting even more turned on by the look in her eyes. Maybe the years of denying him and his eagle their mate, denying them Piper, had cracked his mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to care right now.
He wanted to throw her over his shoulder, storm inside, toss her on the bed, and ravish her. He wanted to eat her up, literally. He wanted to feel her rake those black painted nails down his back, wanted to feel them dig into his shoulders, wanted them to draw blood as he pleasured her so thoroughly, she lost her voice from screaming in ecstasy. He wanted to go at her until they were both limp puddles of pleasure and exhaustion in her bed, neither one of them able to move for hours afterward.
And then he wanted to keep her. Forever.
Yes, that. Let’s do that, his eagle urged, faint desperation in his voice.
“My eyes are up here, asshole,” Piper said tightly.
Lips quirking, he looked up into her gorgeous, unique eyes. “Sorry. You’ve changed, and I had to take it in.”
She rolled her eyes, her ire sparking hotter. “Let me guess, like everyone else in this town, you think it sucks. Well, guess what. I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks, and that sure as shit goes double for you.”
“Actually, I was thinking that you’re fucking hot, Piper. All the changes agree with you.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth popped open for a moment before she got control over herself again. But it was long enough for him to see that she had her tongue pierced, and Jesus God, could she get any hotter? He was going to go up in flames in a matter of moments, he knew.
Eyes narrowing again, she glared at him, but he could see the faint pink staining her cheeks from his words. And that mix of badass with sweetness weakened his already weak knees.
“I repeat, what the fuck are you doing here, St. James?”
“It’s Thursday.”
“What does it being Thursday have to do with anything?” she asked, her frown turning puzzled.
“I mow the yard and do other maintenance shit on Thursdays.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, frown deepening before realization dawned in her eyes. “You? Grandma hired you to help her out around the house? Why the hell would she do that?”
“Helen never told you?” he asked, taken aback.
“Since when do you call her Helen, and not Mrs. Mansfield?” she shot back.
“Since she told me to three years ago when she approached me about doing the handiwork around here. She really never told you?”
“Obviously not. I never would have allowed it,” she spat.
Unable to resist, he threw his head back with a laugh, startling himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed with genuine amusement. “And when could anyone ever forbid Helen to do anything? She did what she wanted.”
Lips tightening, Piper’s glare intensified, but she couldn’t argue that, and he knew it. “You can leave. I can mow the yard my damn self.”
“I’m sure you can, but what about everything else? This old house has a lot of quirks, and I know them front and back.”
“I’m more than capable of handling it all myself. So you can leave, and don’t bother coming back.”
Pursing his lips, he nodded slowly. “I’m sure you can. But if there’s anything you can’t figure out or fix, call me. My cell number is on the board by the fridge.”