Page 31 of Single Mom's Navy Seals
“Don’t thank me,” he replies, swiping the card casually. “And don’t worry about this again. Seriously.”
I take a shaky breath, still uncertain. Jax leans closer, voice gentle but firm. “If you ever need anything, Ava, you can use this card. Actually, even if you just want something, use it. If Eli just wants something, use it. I mean it.”
A small, disbelieving laugh escapes me as I shake my head. “No way.”
“Yes way,” he insists, smirking. “And the pin’s 1234. Trust me, if you manage to max this card out, I’d honestly be impressed. It’d be a damn miracle.”
“Are you joking?” I gasp, unable to hide my surprise and amusement.
“About the pin or the maxing it out?” he clarifies.
“Both?”
“Oh, no. Not joking about either,” he responds with a wide grin.
“You have a black Amex and your PIN is 1234?”
He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m terrible with numbers, so I pick the easiest ones. No one would guess I’m dumb enough to choose 1234.”
I chuckle, finally relaxing just a bit. “That’s both ridiculous and hilarious.”
He shrugs playfully, eyes twinkling again. “Glad you think so.”
Liam and Cole return with drinks, Eli proudly carrying his cup with exaggerated care, his blue eyes sparkling. He immediately captures my attention, tugging at my sleeve.
“Mommy, look! Cole helped me get the drink!” Eli beams proudly.
“Good job, sweetheart,” I murmur warmly, ruffling his hair affectionately.
As we move toward an empty table to wait for our food, I glance briefly at Jax again, heart still tight with gratitude.
He catches my gaze and offers a quiet smile—not cocky this time, but soft. Like he sees more of me than I want him to, and doesn’t mind the mess.
14
COLE
This many hours in a fucking car is enough to numb anyone.
Ava and Eli are asleep beside me in the back seat, her head resting against the window and his small body curled into her side. The air conditioning struggles to combat the brutal heat outside, pushing cold air around us, but the Nevada sun beats relentlessly through the windows.
Up front, Liam keeps a steady grip on the wheel, his eyes fixed on the horizon, one arm resting lazily on the open window frame. Beside him, Jax slouches deeply in his seat, thumb furiously tapping on his phone screen. He’s probably lost in another intense game of Candy Crush, the only distraction he’s found that consistently occupies his restless mind.
Jax had bitched earlier when Liam switched on NPR, complaining bitterly about “boring old men's radio.” Jax loves to pretend that, because he was the youngest of the three of us (by a few years, mind you), he is the cool one and Liam and I are just old boring farts.
I shift in my seat, trying to ease the stiff muscles in my back. The relentless landscape outside the window stretches endlessly, a blur of dusty browns and sparse greens. Desert shrubs and the occasional cactus dot the sandy earth, harsh and unforgiving. My eyes stray to the GPS mounted on the dash—ten minutes left until our destination. After so long on the road, it almost feels surreal.
What was supposed to take thirty-six hours has taken well over that. The drive from Pennsylvania to Nevada has been over forty-eight hours long. Between the one time we stopped for a motel and the many stops for gas, food, and bathroom breaks, it feels even worse.
Up front, Jax lowers the radio volume, twisting around in his seat to glance briefly at them before turning toward Liam.
“We need to talk,” Liam murmurs, voice pitched low enough that he clearly doesn’t want Ava waking up.
Curious, I lean forward, bracing my elbows on my knees so we can speak without waking the sleeping passengers.
“What’s up?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
Liam’s fingers drum restlessly on the steering wheel, eyes narrowed as he stares intently at the road ahead. “How long does Morales expect to keep her running like this? It’s not healthy. For either of them, especially the kid.”
