Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
I sipped the last of the coffee to cover the way my throat had gone tight, but inside, I was a mess of warmth and nerves. It was dangerous how easy it was to picture more mornings like this. How tempting it was to let myself lean into the care he offered when I knew better than to let anyone too close. Even though Jaxton had already figured out my secret, the marshals wouldn’t approve of me building a relationship with him.
I tried to remind myself that this couldn’t last. That safety was fragile, temporary. But the way he looked at me made me wish that we could stay here like this forever.
I pushed the empty tray aside and glanced at the sunshine streaming through the blinds. “I should probably get home so I can change and get ready for work.”
“I’ll take you.”
Relief flickered through me. I’d expected him to argue. I shifted like I was about to stand, but his next words froze me in place.
“Pack a bag.”
My head snapped toward him. “What?”
His gaze slid to mine, his expression unreadable. “You’re staying here from now on.”
He said it like the decision had already been made, as though there wasn’t room for debate.
“Staying here?” My laugh came out thin and uncertain. “That’s not really necessary.”
“It’s a fuck of a lot safer,” he disagreed.
Safer. The word hit me hard. Safer than my tiny apartment with locks anyone determined enough could bypass. Safer than lying awake at night wondering if the shadows outside my window were just my imagination.
I swallowed, my fingers curling around the edge of the sheet. “You can’t just change where I live. That’s not how WITSEC works.”
“I can if it keeps you alive.” He leaned back against the headboard, stretching one arm across the space behind me, like he had all the time in the world to wait for me to realize he wasn’t bluffing.
I should’ve pushed harder. I should’ve argued, told him I didn’t need his protection, and reminded him that letting someone get this close to me could undo everything I’d worked for. But instead of fear, something else curled in my chest.
Belonging.
The thought scared me more than his command ever could.
Because for the first time in years, I felt like I found the place where I was supposed to be. Here, with Jaxton.
Finally, I blew out a shaky breath. “Okay.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, just barely, as though that single word had settled something in him.
“Okay,” I repeated, firmer this time.
He gave a satisfied grunt and reached for the tray, as though our conversation was normal. Like my whole life hadn’t just shifted in the space of a few minutes.
I sat there stunned, pulse still racing as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.
I’d agreed. Just like that, when I should’ve laid down boundaries and reminded him that my life wasn’t his to decide. Or even mine. But the words had stuck in my throat, swallowed down as easily as the breakfast he’d brought me.
Because the truth was, I wanted to stay. Longed for the scent of his sheets wrapped around me, the quiet certainty of his presence filling the space, and the way he said safer like he meant more than just the protection he could provide.
Every instinct that had kept me alive the past two years should’ve been screaming at me to pull away. Instead, my body had gone still, and my mouth had said yes. It was like my heart had already made the decision long before my head could catch up.
I glanced at Jaxton out of the corner of my eye, watching the casual way he leaned back, unconcerned, as though moving me into his world had been as simple as flipping a switch.
And maybe it was.
I should’ve been scared of how easily I gave in. But I wasn’t. Not even a little.
8
JAX
The overlook wasn’t much, just a widened spot where the county had forgotten to finish the guardrail, and the asphalt bled tar, as if someone had patched it with a blindfold on. Pine needles gathered in the seams. Beer caps glinted in the dust when the sun hit them right. Teenagers came up here to pretend they were wild. I came because it was quiet, and the view stretched long and wide, out over the pine canopy toward Tallahassee. At dusk, when the sun slid down behind the trees, the whole world turned gold.
And because it sat close enough to the neighborhood where I grew up that the air still smelled like my old life if you breathed deep—warm resin from the pines and wet earth from the creek below.
It was a perfect place to meet up with my sister. And one we hadn’t used in a while, since we never saw each other in the same spot twice in a row.