Sitting across from her feels right. Natural. She digs in with enthusiasm, making little moans of appreciation that test my restraint. "This is amazing. Mountain man breakfast goals achieved. So what happens after breakfast, Marshal? Do we go back to bed or do you teach me how to chop wood like a proper mountain wife?"
I nearly choke on my coffee, laughing. "Mountain wife? Careful, Ava. Keep talking like that and I'll forget all about WITSEC and put a ring on your finger."
She leans forward, that confident spark shining brighter. "Maybe I want you to. I've spent my whole life hiding in books. With you I feel awake. Alive. Like I could face a cartel and still crack jokes about it."
We talk for a long time over breakfast. She tells me about her favorite romance tropes and how she secretly writes short fanfiction endings for books that left her unsatisfied. I tell her more about the early days with Mason — rookie mistakes, the case that almost got us both fired, the long nights that turned a partnership into something closer to family. The weight on my chest lightens with every word. She listens without judgment, adding insights that make me see my own life differently.
"You know," she says between bites of bacon, "in all my books the hero always says he doesn't deserve the heroine. But you do, Jax. You protect with everything you have. That’s more than deserving."
Her words hit deep. I reach across the table and take her hand, thumb stroking her knuckles. "You make me want to be better. To fight for more than just the job. After this is over I'm not letting the system take you away. We'll figure it out. Together."
Ava squeezes my hand back, smiling soft and sure. "Together sounds perfect. Now pass the potatoes, husband material. I need seconds before we tackle whatever comes next."
We finish the meal with more laughter and easy conversation. She helps me clean up, bumping hips at the sink while we wash dishes. Suds fly when she flicks water at me playfully. I retaliate by wrapping my arms around her from behind, nuzzling her neck until she giggles and melts back against me.
The domestic warmth fills the cabin as much as the woodsmoke. For the first time in years I let myself imagine a future that includes more mornings like this. More of her confidence blooming under my hands. More of us.
"You're mine, Ava," I murmur against her lips. "And I'm yours. We got this."
She kisses me back with growing boldness, hands sliding up my chest. "Damn right we do."
15
Ava
Sunlight still filters through the cabin windows as Jax and I finish cleaning up from our incredible breakfast. My body hums with a happy kind of tiredness mixed with that constant spark he ignites in me. I love this. The easy rhythm of working beside him in the tiny kitchen. The way his large hands brush mine when we pass plates. The deep rumble of his laugh when I make another silly comment about turning our situation into a bestselling romance novel titledLibrarian and the Growly Marshal. Being with Jax feels like the best kind of story. Safe and exciting and filled with heat that makes my skin tingle even now.
But underneath the warmth a quiet worry nags at me. What happens when I step into WITSEC? Will this all disappear like pages in a book I have to return? Will I still get to see him? The questions swirl in my head as we wipe down the counters. I can’t shake the feeling that this might be temporary for him. A protective assignment that turned steamy. Of course he knows once I enter the program everything changes. Marshals don’t just date their witnesses forever. Right?
I dry my hands on a dish towel and turn to face him. He stands there looking ridiculously handsome in his sweatpants and tight shirt. Those broad shoulders and the way his jaw flexes when he catches me staring. My heart does its usual silly flip.
"Jax," I say softly, trying to keep my voice light even though my stomach twists. "Can you tell me how WITSEC actually works? Like the real details. Not the movie version where everything magically resolves in two hours."
He sets the last plate down and pulls me close. His big hands settle on my hips with that feral grip I’m quickly becoming addicted to. The heat of his body chases away some of the chill creeping into my thoughts. "It’s not glamorous. They give you a new identity. New name. New background story. Relocate you somewhere far from here. Usually a city where no one knows you. No contact with your old life. No phone calls. No social media. Nothing that could trace back."
I listen as he explains more. The marshals handle security during the transition. New documents. Sometimes even minor plastic surgery if the threat is high enough. Counseling to adjust. But the core of it sinks in like cold mountain snow. A complete erasure of Ava Simpson. No more library job. No more Tiktok book recommendations. And worst of all, no more Jax.
My chest tightens but I force a small smile. I don’t voice how much I hate it. How badly I want to stay right here in his arms forever. He probably sees this as temporary anyway. A heated fling born from danger and forced proximity. I can’t put that pressure on him. Not when he has already risked so much.
"Wow," I say instead, keeping my tone even as my heart aches. "So basically I get to become a brand new character in someone else's story. Like a plot twist I didn’t ask for. Do they let mepick my new name? I vote for something adventurous like Raven Storm or at least keep my love for books."
Jax laughs under his breath, tightening his arms around me. His hand strokes up and down my back in soothing circles. "You’d make a great Raven Storm. But yeah. It keeps you safe. That’s the point. I’ll make sure the transition goes smoothly."
I nod, and breathe him in. I love being with him so much it scares me. But I stay quiet about the rest.
After a little while he suggests we do something useful. "Come on. Time for more self defense. You’re learning really fast."
We clear a space in the main room and he starts teaching me. His voice turns all dominant instructor mode. Strong and patient at the same time. He shows me how to break a wrist hold, how to use my smaller size to my advantage with elbows and knees. I practice on him, my hands sliding over his hard muscles as he guides my form. At first I feel shy and clumsy but with every correction I grow more confident. I land a solid elbow strike that makes him grunt in approval.
"Again," he says, eyes gleaming with pride. "You’re getting stronger already."
The praise sends a warm flush through me. I step into the next move with more boldness. Our bodies move together in the small space. His hands on my waist. My back against his chest as he demonstrates escapes. Sweat beads on my skin and my breathing quickens but not just from the exercise. The tension between us simmers hot even during training. Every touch feels charged. Every look from him makes me want to forget the lesson and drag him back to bed.
"You’re a natural," he tells me after I successfully twist out of his grip and land a knee tap near his thigh. "Smart and quick. That brain of yours works fast under pressure."
I grin up at him, wiping sweat from my forehead. The quirkiness slips away a little more as confidence settles in my bones. "Maybe all those years shelving heavy books built some hidden strength. Or maybe it’s just you bringing it out in me. I feel different with you, Jax. Braver."
He frames my face in his hands and kisses me slow, like he has all the time in the world. The kind of kiss that says he feels it too. When we break apart his eyes stay locked on mine. "You’re brave all on your own, Ava. I’m just lucky enough to see it up close."
