15. Ava
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 titled Librarian 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 me pick 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."
We practice a while longer until my muscles burn in a good way.
The domestic feel of learning from him, sweating together in this cozy cabin, makes my heart swell even more.
I love this man. The realization hits me quietly but firmly.
I love his strength and his rare smiles and the way he opens up over breakfast. But I keep the deeper feelings tucked away for now.
Temporary, I remind myself. Enjoy it while it lasts.
Later we start packing to move to the next safe house where the transfer will take place.
The duffel bags sit open on the bed as we fold clothes and supplies.
I roll his shirts neatly beside mine, the simple act feeling intimate.
Jax checks weapons and gear with focused efficiency.
The cabin feels smaller now that we know we have to leave soon.
His satellite phone rings on the table. He picks it up quickly. "Hartman."
I watch his face as he listens. The other marshals on the line update him.
They’re watching things back in Montana.
So far everything stays quiet. No movement from the cartel remnants.
No signs of trouble at the old locations.
Relief washes through me but it mixes with that nagging worry about what comes next.
"Copy that," Jax says, voice steady and clear. "We’re moving out soon. Keep me posted."
He ends the call and turns to me. His hand finds mine immediately. "All quiet for now. We have a window. We’ll get you to the next spot safe."
I squeeze his hand and nod, forcing another bright smile even as my mind races with questions I don’t ask.
I love being with Jax. The heated tension.
The domestic mornings. The way he makes me feel confident and desired.
But the shadow of WITSEC looms larger with every passing hour.
Will he fight to keep seeing me? Or is this beautiful chapter destined to end when the program swallows me whole?
For now I focus on the feel of his hand in mine and the heat in his eyes. I step closer and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to his chest. His heartbeat thuds strong and steady under my ear.
"Whatever comes," I whisper, "I’m glad it’s you protecting me."
He holds me tighter, one hand stroking my hair. "Always."
The word warms me but the uncertainty lingers. I push it down and focus on packing. On the man beside me. On the story we’re writing together right now in this hidden cabin. Page by heated page.
We finish loading the bags and share one more lingering kiss before we step out into the cold mountain air. The road ahead feels uncertain but with Jax next to me every step sparkles with possibility. Even if my heart whispers fears about tomorrow I hold onto today. Onto him.