Page 11 of Single Mom’s Navy Seals (Claimed by the Alphas #2)

LIAM

A va Haynes is trouble—I just haven’t figured out exactly what kind yet.

It’s been twelve hours since we met, and somehow she’s managed to wedge herself under my skin in a way that’s irritatingly unfamiliar.

I don’t do complications, and I definitely don’t do attachments.

Yet here I am, glancing at her for the fifth time in as many minutes, wondering what the hell is behind those tired, stubborn eyes.

Not that it matters. She’s a job—her and the kid.

My job is to keep them alive, not dissect why I’m even noticing her in the first place.

Still, my eyes wander her way, even though she’s doing the same thing she’s been doing for the past twelve hours.

The curve of her profile, the fierce set of her jaw, the way exhaustion clings to her but doesn’t break her—it's all too damn compelling. I don’t notice women like this.

I don’t notice anyone like this. She’s staring straight ahead, eyes stubbornly open despite her obvious exhaustion.

She’s blinked out a few times, but she always seems to rouse herself back awake.

I honestly respect it. That kind of watchfulness from a civilian is impressive, despite the fact that it is unnecessary in this situation. I don’t bother telling her that, though. I know she stays awake because she isn’t quite at the place of trusting us long enough to close her eyes.

Eli doesn’t have that problem.

He’s snoring gently in his booster seat, mouth hanging open in the kind of deep sleep only a kid can manage after nine hours of relentless questions. The kid’s a damn trooper. He stayed awake for most of the twelve-hour drive, determined not to miss a moment of his “adventure.”

I glance again at Eli, slumped peacefully against the window, and something tightens in my chest. The kid is sweet, painfully innocent.

He laughs easily, trusts even more easily.

The kind of pure heart that makes a man feel protective, makes him ready to fight the whole damn world if it means keeping that innocence intact.

But Ava...she’s something else entirely. Strong in ways most men wouldn’t recognize, fragile in ways she tries so damn hard to hide. She would clearly die for her son, no questions asked.

My own mother floats unbidden through my thoughts.

She’d never been like Ava. She’d stood by silently as my father molded me, shaped me through bruises and cruel discipline.

She bandaged me up afterward, yes, but she never once stepped in front of my father’s blows.

My mother was a victim herself, caught between fear and loyalty.

It left me with an ache that had never healed, not even when she died of cancer a decade ago.

But Ava is no victim, and she is no bystander either. There’s tension always coiled beneath her deceptively soft exterior. Ava might be running from something, but she’s sure as hell ready to fight it head-on if it catches up. That fierce maternal instinct is fascinating to me, dangerously so.

That’s why I’m interested in her.

At least, that’s the reason I tell myself to justify the fact that I haven’t stopped glancing her way since we got in this car.

The SUV rolls off the highway, tires humming against cracked pavement, before gravel crunches beneath the wheels.

We’re pulling into a parking lot that’s seen better days, potholes scattered like landmines, a flickering neon sign glinting in the sunlight.

The old motel squats at the edge of the tree line, its weathered siding peeling in places, paint dulled by years of neglect.

A single pickup truck sits in the far corner, rust visible on its butt.

No signs of trouble yet, but habit keeps me cautious anyway.

My grip tightens on the wheel as I watch the motel’s neon sign flicker weakly in the background.

I’ve deliberately mapped this route through back roads, far from anything resembling civilization.

Randy has money, power, resources—but so do we.

The difference is we know exactly how to stay invisible.

Even if he tracks Ava to Indiana, no one comes to this backwater town unless they have to.

I put the SUV into park, the engine idling for a second as I scan the shadows around the perimeter. Ava’s eyes flick toward mine, exhaustion and tension clear in the slight crease between her brows.

“We’re here, finally?” she observes with a stifled yawn.

“God, my legs are killing me,” Jax mutters behind me.

“Stay put,” I instruct them, keeping my voice low as well so we don’t wake Eli. “I’ll handle check-in.”

“You don’t want backup?” Cole from the back seat.

I shoot him a look. “Think I can handle an empty motel lobby, Cole.”

Cole raises an eyebrow, utterly unbothered. “Just offering.”

“I’ll manage,” I mutter, climbing out of the SUV.

The gravel crunches under my boots as the chilly late morning air tightens my muscles. I cross the nearly empty parking lot, and my eyes do another quick sweep out of habit more than suspicion.

I push through the lobby door, the bell above jangling. The familiar scent of black-and-milds, ass-quality coffee, and pine cleaner fills my nostrils. It’s comforting in a strange, fucked-up kinda way. This isn’t my first stay here. Hell, the owner is practically family at this point.

“Liam fucking Williams,” a grizzled voice rasps, and I grin despite myself. Leo Hart stands behind the counter, his scarred face breaking into a rare smile as he reaches out a calloused hand.

“Leo,” I greet, shaking firmly. “Still running this dump, huh?”

“Until it collapses around my ass,” Leo replies with a chuckle. His gaze sharpens, scanning behind me. “Who are you running from this time?”

“Just need a quiet place for the night,” I say evenly, sliding cash across the counter.

Leo waves off half the amount, pushing it back toward me. “Keep it.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re not running a charity, Leo.”

“Nope, just paying off a debt.” Leo’s gaze is serious. “Wouldn’t have my girl if it weren’t for you and your brothers. You know I’ll be paying that debt back for the rest of my life. A room for half price ain’t shit.”

Five years back, Leo’s daughter had fallen in with the wrong crowd—a motorcycle gang pretending to be misunderstood rebels.

She’d tried to leave, but her asshole boyfriend wasn’t keen on letting her walk away.

It’d taken Cole, Jax, and me two weeks to locate her, extract her, and disband the bunch of pussies permanently.

By the time we finished, half the gang had been wiped out by “rivals,” the remaining cowards had fled to a new town, and Leo’s daughter was safely back home.

“Appreciate it,” I say gruffly, accepting the key card.

Leo nods once, solemnly. “Room twelve, like always. You need anything else, just holler.”

“Will do.”

I push back through the lobby door, the bell above it chiming behind me as I step outside. The cold air rushes over me again, sharp enough to clear my head and bring me fully alert. I make my way back toward the SUV.

I tug open the driver’s side door, meeting Ava’s eyes first. They’re tired but sharp—hazel and intense, laced with suspicion and something else. Something that makes it hard to look away.

“Come on,” I say, reaching down to pop the trunk. “We’re good to go.”

Ava nods, relief softening her features as she unbuckles and moves around the SUV toward Eli’s door.

Jax shifts, gently trying to coax Eli awake, but the kid grumbles sleepily, stubbornly shaking his head.

Ava’s already out of her seat and moving around the car.

She gets to Jax’s door and tries to reach across him, sleepily, to scoop Eli into her arms.

“Hey, hey,” Jax coos at her, blocking her path gently. “How about you focus on putting one foot in front of the other? I’ve got him.”

She hesitates, but finally nods gratefully, shoulders slumping in relief. Jax unbuckles Eli, lifting him onto one shoulder, where Eli curls against his neck, still sound asleep.

Cole and I grab the bags, hauling them from the SUV as Jax cradles Eli against his chest and slides out of his seat.

With one hand, Jax closes his door behind him, eyes scanning the empty parking lot before nodding to me and following Ava and Cole toward the hotel room.

I hit the key fob, the SUV’s locks engaging with a click that feels too loud in the quiet night, and follow the three of them.

Our small group crosses the uneven gravel toward room 12, the worn numbers barely visible beneath the bright morning light.

I slide the keycard into the slot, waiting impatiently for the green flash before pushing the door open, holding it wide as Ava steps past me, her movements gentle so she doesn't wake Eli.

Jax and Cole follow, their heavy footfalls silent as shadows.

Once inside, I shut the door behind us, immediately flipping the deadbolt and engaging the security latch.

Cole drops his bags onto the scratched, cheaply veneered dresser, one of only three pieces of furniture squeezed into the cramped space.

I follow suit as Jax moves toward the bed and lays the kid down before pulling the covers back and maneuvering his small body under them.

Ava hesitates near the bed, her gaze flickering between the single mattress and the tiny couch. Eli sinks deeper into sleep, small limbs sprawled in exhausted relief, and I can see Ava’s longing to lie down.

“Go ahead.” Her eyes snap to mine. “Go ahead and take the bed with him.”

Inside, Ava’s gaze flickers between the single bed and the tiny couch. “There are only two places to sleep.”

“And? Eli is getting the bed anyway, what does it matter to us if you share it with him?”

“What about you guys?” she asks, still concerned, but pulling the covers back on the other side of her kid.

Jax shrugs, flashing her his trademark grin. “Trust me, sweetheart, we’ve slept in worse places than that couch.”

She nods, though not happily, and sinks onto the mattress, eyes already heavy as she lies down and pulls Eli gently against her. Within moments, she’s joined him in sleep.

“I can take first watch,” Cole offers immediately.

“I’ll take watch with you,” I murmur back, settling against the dresser, leg crossed over another.

“Fine with me. I was up late the last three nights for the Hampton case surveillance.” With those words, Jax sprawls onto the couch, eyes closing the moment his head hits the raggedy throw pillow, in the way only military-trained men can manage.

Cole moves to the window, silently scanning the parking lot as he settles into position for first watch. From his place, his gaze flickers briefly toward Ava and Eli, his expression unreadable as usual.

“This job is going to be interesting.”

“Hmm,” is all I say back.

“She’s tougher than she looks.”

I grunt. “I noticed.”

“You think we’ll have trouble while we’re on the road?” he asks, voice calm, analytical.

“Don’t know, but if we do, we handle it,” I admit, my gaze lingering on Ava’s sleeping face.

Her lashes rest softly against her cheeks, one arm wrapped around Eli.

Even in sleep, she’s beautiful in a way that sneaks up on you.

Not polished or deliberate—just raw, unfiltered strength wrapped in softness.

My chest tightens again in a way that’s unfamiliar and unwelcome.

But I don’t allow myself to dwell on it. Instead, I lean back, alert and ready, eyes fixed on the darkness outside, waiting for the moment danger shows its face again.