HERS |Tris Morgan x Jack Marston |Book III of HIS Series

"The Defender"

Chapter Warning: Panic Attack

3 days later

The morning air in Strawberry is crisp as Tris strolls to the post office with Jack.

You, Abigail, Jack, and Tris had gotten into town late yesterday afternoon after a long ride. Now the group of you were killing time until the hunting party showed up later that day.

Falling in step beside Jack she loops her arm into his and leans her head against his shoulder.

"Tris." Jack tenses, his head whipping around. "What're you doing?"

"Reeeelax." She rolls her eyes. "It's not like they don't know now."

Since you had confronted her, she and Jack had been blessed with a taste of what their relationship could look like if it were out in the open.

Sure, you had forbidden them from sleeping together again.

At least under that roof...

But they had finally been able to relax a little.

Exchanging kisses and touches out in the open had been a welcome slice of normalcy until the rest of the family returned from their trip. It was like a weight had been lifted and Tris wasn't ready to give it up just yet. She wanted to squeeze every last minute of time they had together before going back to stolen glances under her father's oblivious gaze.

"That ain't the point. What if they come back early?" He glances around.

"Then I guess we'll have to plan your funeral."

"Ha ha. Very funny." Jack gently pulls her hand free,m. Placing his own on the curve of her back. She leans closer, her shoulder brushing against his chest as they walk. "How're we gonna tell him?"

Tris shrugs, not wanting to think about it. They had so little time to just be themselves that she didn't want to worry about it but the truth was she was scared that her Pa, her hero, would never look at her the same again.

Climbing the post office step she pauses, her hand on the door she turns.

"Can we keep it a secret? Just a little longer?"

"Tris." he groans. "We have to talk to them sometime our Ma's already now. It's only a matter of time."

"I know. She sighs. "But I just..."

"What?"

"I just don't want him to be mad at me y'know?"

"Tris." his voice softens. Stepping closer he lifts her chin. "Uncle Arther can't ever be mad at you. Me? For sure. But you?" his thumb strokes along her jaw. "Never."

Unable to help herself, Tris leans in, sealing her mouth to his.

Surprised when he reciprocates, she takes the chance to deepen the kiss, drawing him closer. Her tongue traces his lower lip lightly, begging for entrance. He obliges, pulling her in as his fingers rake into her hair, tightening his hold and making her sigh. His mouth steals the lead, gently guiding her through the pleasure of his kiss.

Lost in his kiss Tris forgets where they are when a horrified gasp drags her back to reality.

"Honestly!" a particularly crow-like woman tuts and holds open the post office door scowling at the pair. "Such vulgar behavior. This town has gone to the dog's." she scrunches her pointed nose. "They act like common whores in the street..." her eyes rake over Tris's jeans, "...and while wearing men's clothes no less."