Page 26 of Single Mom’s Navy Seals (Claimed by the Alphas #2)

COLE

I stare down at the worn pages of the Jane Austen novel in my hands, trying for the fifth time to read the same damn paragraph.

My eyes slide uselessly over the words without absorbing anything, and frustration starts to bubble under my skin.

With a sigh, I close the book and toss it onto the small table beside the old armchair I dragged to face the bedroom window.

The view isn’t exactly postcard-worthy, but I don’t mind.

Endless stretches of desert sand sprawl beneath a merciless sun, broken occasionally by jagged rocks and shrubs browned by the relentless heat.

A single large, knobby tree stands resiliently in the center of it all, its prickly leaves casting a sizable shadow despite the harsh conditions.

Just beyond that tree, the metal fencing stretches into the distance, marking off the expansive territory where the wild horses roam free.

Normally, I’d find peace in this quiet isolation, but right now, my thoughts are a tangled mess.

It’s been a week since Jax dropped the bombshell about kissing Ava.

A week since he boldly declared he was staying with her, beyond the extent of the job.

A week since I agreed, unable to deny my own growing attachment to Ava and Eli.

Since then, the three of us have basically pretended the conversation never happened.

And I just can’t deny my attraction to Ava. There’s something about her quiet strength, the way she shields her pain with sarcasm and determination. I didn’t expect to notice every shift in her mood, every smile she doesn’t mean to show me. But I do. I notice all of it.

The tension is palpable, though. Liam’s avoidance of Ava has reached new extremes.

He’s distant, short-tempered, and constantly busying himself with meaningless tasks around the cabin.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize Liam’s need for control is clashing hard against the chaos Ava brings into his structured life.

He’s running from feelings he doesn’t want to acknowledge.

Ava herself hasn’t exactly made things easier.

She’s been avoiding Jax openly since their kiss, maneuvering through the house with careful precision to never find herself alone with him.

With me, she’s less obvious, but I feel her hesitance, the way she keeps conversations short and superficial, always just a step out of reach.

She hasn’t mentioned that moment in the grass.

Hasn’t looked at me quite the same since.

But I haven’t stopped thinking about the way she felt in my arms—how natural it was to hold her, how badly I wanted to brush my lips over hers, just once.

The only one unaffected by the tension crackling through the cabin is Eli.

That little boy moves through the rooms blissfully unaware of the undercurrent of emotions swirling around him.

He’s a bright spot of joy and laughter in a place filled with unspoken thoughts and masked desires.

Watching him interact with Ava, Jax, and even Liam has become one of my favorite things.

Eli has been the happiest surprise for me in all of this.

He’s sweet and sharp, curious and endlessly energetic.

The way he loves Ava fiercely, without reservation, makes my chest ache softly every time I see it.

He looks at us with wide, adoring eyes that make me want to be someone worthy of his hero worship.

I never imagined myself in this role, never allowed myself to consider fatherhood seriously.

Growing up without my own mother, abandoned on my father’s doorstep as a baby, I never fully understood what it meant to have a complete family.

My father raised me alone on our farm, stoic and reserved, never speaking about my mother or his feelings.

I’d assumed that path would be mine too—solitary, unattached.

But Eli changed all that in mere days. I catch myself imagining what it would be like to have a son of my own—to have someone look up to me with that same unwavering trust. I didn’t think I’d ever want something like that, yet here I am, craving it with a fierceness that unsettles me deeply.

A flash of movement through the window draws my gaze outward again.

As if my thoughts brought them, I watch as Eli runs gleefully around the yard, Ava trailing behind him, her smile bright and carefree.

The joy on her face is stunning, softening her features into something even more beautiful than usual.

My pulse quickens as I watch her, my mind wandering to places I shouldn’t let it.

I still feel her pressed against me—soaked, laughing, her body tangled with mine as we fell into the grass.

I don’t think she realizes how close I came to kissing her.

Or maybe she does, and that’s why she’s keeping her distance.

But God, that moment… it felt like the beginning of something I didn’t know I’d been waiting for.

Since that first day at the motel, Ava has unexpectedly carved a place in my heart.

She’s strong and brave, fighting fiercely for Eli’s safety even through her own fear.

The connection between us has only grown deeper, despite her best attempts to keep her distance.

That kiss with Jax changed things, made the emotions we’ve all been avoiding impossible to ignore.

I scrub a rough hand down my face, forcing my thoughts away from dangerous territory.

Ava is afraid, and honestly, rightfully so.

She’s spent years protecting Eli, completely alone, isolated from anyone who could help.

I don’t know everything about her story, but I know the one time she trusted a man with her heart, he abused her.

It’s understandable she would hesitate to open herself up now.

Liam’s fear, though different, is no less valid. He thrives on structure and control. Liam hated to talk about his life pre-SEALs, but we all met his dad before. The guy is the worst of the worst, and Liam got his fear of vulnerability from somewhere.

To him, Ava represents the unknown, something unpredictable and powerful that he can’t micromanage or direct. His avoidance is his way of protecting himself, of trying to maintain the rigid boundaries he’s always relied upon.

My eyes drift back to the book beside me.

But instead of opening the book again, my gaze returns to the window.

Ava is now standing with Eli beneath that large, knobby tree, their heads bent close together, sharing quiet conversation.

The scene tugs at my chest, warmth and yearning mixing painfully inside me.

I don’t have all the answers yet. I don’t know exactly how this will work, how we’ll navigate the complicated emotions, desires, and responsibilities swirling between us all. But one thing is crystal clear in my heart—Ava and Eli are worth whatever complications lie ahead.

Taking a deep breath, I rise from the armchair, stretching out muscles stiffened from inactivity. I move toward the window, staring down at Ava and Eli, their laughter drifting softly up toward me.

Glancing down, I notice Eli clutching a brightly colored blanket against his chest, his small hands gripping it protectively.

Ava stands beside him, and I realize for the first time that she’s carrying a plate of freshly cut fruit and a large glass of iced lemonade, condensation already beading down its sides.

They talk to each other, their voices indistinct but gentle.

I lean closer to the window, trying to make out their conversation without alerting them to my presence.

Eli moves forward, releasing his hold on the blanket. He unfurls it with surprising care and precision, spreading it smoothly across the dusty ground beneath the shade of the lone, knobby tree. Once satisfied, he plops down onto it, smiling brightly up at his mother.

Ava joins him gracefully, setting the plate and glass down between them.

They both stretch out comfortably, Ava’s posture relaxed and carefree, something rare and beautiful to see.

That’s when I notice the small sling bag looped casually over her shoulder.

She slides it off, setting it down in front of her and digging through its contents.

Curiosity piques my interest further as she finally pulls out a small, spiral-bound notebook and a metal tin that I recognize as a set of colored pencils.

She opens the notebook, positioning it between her and Eli so that an open blank page faces each of them equally.

Without hesitation, they both pick up pencils, leaning forward and beginning to draw.

The peaceful, intimate scene pulls at something deep inside my chest, a longing and yearning I didn’t fully realize existed until now.

They talk softly to each other as they sketch, their voices too quiet for me to distinguish words.

But the easy affection and comfort between them is clear, shining brightly in their relaxed postures and gentle smiles.

It’s impossible to resist the pull of joining them.

Before I can fully consider my actions, my worn copy of Jane Austen is tucked securely into my back pocket, and I’m moving out of my bedroom.

Jax and Liam’s doors are both closed, unsurprisingly. We all spend the majority of our time in our rooms unless we’re pulled out by Eli.

When I make it down the stairs, I pause briefly in the kitchen and grab an extra cup of cold lemonade and snatch up the carton of strawberries from the refrigerator. There are only a few left, so I don’t bother putting them on a plate.