Page 16 of Her Fearless Ronin

Jiro’s phone vibrated in his hand, and I could sense his growing frustration. As he glanced at Max, I could see the tension between them, even if I didn’t really understand the reason behind it.

“I have a few things to take care of,” Jiro muttered, his jaw ticcing with annoyance. He then turned his attention back to me. “When are you finishing?”

“Six.”

He nodded. “I’ll meet you back here at six.”

Before I could agree, Jiro turned to Max and spoke in a low, commanding voice. “You make sure she’s safe, yes? It shouldn’t have been that hard to get that creep away.”

Max’s scowl deepened. “Pedro was not a threat. You’re just exaggerating. I’m Hope’s friend, and before yesterday, I never even heard your name, so no offense,pal,” he spat the word with derision, “I know how to take care of her.”

Jiro scoffed. “How nice it must be to be so delusional.” He waved toward me. “I’ll see you later,” he added before turning around and leaving the store stiffly.

The rest of my shift was the worst I had ever experienced, with Max being in the darkest mood I’d ever seen him, muttering to himself and leaving me alone and bored behind the counter.

I was relieved when the clock hit six and quickly said goodbye to a still-sulking Max and exited the store as dusk fell.

Jiro was already there, leaning against his bike, his expression unreadable.

As I approached, he straightened up, his intense gaze fixed on me.

“What was that all about?” I asked as I reached him on the sidewalk.

He extended me his spare helmet. “I’m hungry.”

“I’m serious,” I insisted, crossing my arms on my chest.

“So am I!” He nudged the helmet toward me again, and I grabbed it automatically. “I saw a Mexican truck by the pier. Let’s eat and talk.”

My stomach squeezed, reminding me that food seemed to be a good idea right about now, so I pushed the helmet on my head. “Mexican sounds good.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Thought so.” He turned toward the bike and straddled it. “Come on, let’s go.”

I couldn’t help the little jitter of excitement as I sat behind him… pressing my body against his, wrapping my arms around his hard chest. Was it something you ever got used to? I didn’t think so, not with Jiro.

As we rode through the city, the exhilaration of the bike ride, mixed with the closeness of our bodies, made my heartrace. I could feel the warmth of Jiro’s back against my front, his muscles tensing as he navigated through the streets. It was an intoxicating sensation, and I relished every moment.

The closer we got to the pier, the stronger the sea smell, and while I was happy to finally get some answers, I was also a little disappointed to let go of my hold on him.

As he parked by the truck, I was pleased to see that only a couple of tables were taken, allowing us to have a more private conversation.

“What do you want?” he asked after securing the helmets on the bike.

“Fish tacos.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Fish from a van?” He grimaced. “I commend you.”

I shrugged. “I like to live on the edge.”

His expression turned from teasing to serious in a second. “Don’t I know it.” He looked up and sighed. “Grab a table. I’ll be right there.”

I grabbed a table farthest from the food van and sat down, watching as Jiro approached the vendor to order our tacos.

As I waited for him to return with the food, I couldn’t help but reflect on how his simple presence changed everything. There was a sense of comfort in his presence, even amid all the chaos and uncertainty.

He returned with a tray of fish tacos, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It was a simple gesture, but it meant so much to me. “Fish too, huh?”

He shrugged. “Ah, well, if you die, I’ll die too,” he said before taking a bite.

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