Page 46 of Single Mom's Navy Seals
Eli hoots from behind the rock. “Get her, Cole!”
“Oh, it’s on,” I say, lifting my water gun and charging.
For the next ten minutes, the three of us devolve into chaos—Eli zipping between boulders like a greased squirrel, Cole surprisingly fast on his feet despite his quiet demeanor, and me absolutely drenched, my hair plastered to my face. We form shifting alliances, break them just as quickly, and laugh until my sides ache.
At one point, I corner Cole near the barn, water gun raised, smug.
“Any last words?”
He narrows his eyes, breathing hard. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Positive.”
Before I can react, he lunges—not to attack, but to dodge—grabbing my wrist at the same time. I squeal, twisting to get free, but I lose my footing on the soaked ground. In a blur, he catches me, and we tumble backward into the grass in a tangled heap.
We land with a soft thud, me sprawled awkwardly on top of him. For a second, neither of us moves. My hands are braced against his chest, and his fingers are curled lightly around my waist.
His chest rises beneath my palms, warm and steady. I feel his breath on my cheek, his body still beneath mine, like he’s afraid to move. When I glance down, his eyes are already on me, quiet and searching.
His hand moves gently, brushing a damp strand of hair away from my face. The pads of his fingers graze my cheek, slowand careful, like he’s memorizing the shape of me. My breath catches.
“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.
I nod, but I can’t quite speak. The tenderness in his touch undoes me a little.
Then he shifts slightly beneath me, and my hand slips against his chest. He catches it, his fingers curling around mine. Firm and warm. Steady.
If he were anyone else, I’d think he was about to kiss me.
And for one breathless heartbeat, I’m not sure I’d stop him.
But then Eli barrels toward us again, his small body crashing into Cole’s legs. “Gotcha!” he yells, spraying both of us with a triumphant blast of water.
I scramble off, flushed and breathless, trying to laugh it off. Cole lies back in the grass with a sigh, eyes closed, water dripping from his hair.
“I think I’m officially outgunned,” he says.
“You’re not the only one,” I mutter under my breath, not sure if I’m talking about water guns anymore. I can still feel the ghost of his touch on my cheek, the warmth of his chest under my palms. He’s so steady, so quiet, but moments like that? They speak louder than words.
“Alright, Eli,” I say, smiling warmly at him. “How about we both call it quits and declare peace?”
He hesitates a moment, eyes narrowed suspiciously, clearly contemplating my sincerity. Finally, he nods, lowering his water gun.
“Deal, Mama. Peace treaty accepted.”
I grin broadly, holding out my hand. “Shake on it?”
He steps forward, clearly still cautious, but he takes my hand firmly, shaking solemnly. “Deal.”
“Good,” I say warmly, ruffling his damp hair affectionately. “Because Mama’s exhausted.”
He smiles sheepishly, clearly tired as well. “Me too. But that was fun!”
“It was,” I agree, feeling grateful for every second of his laughter and joy.
We stand together, both breathing heavily, soaked clothes plastered uncomfortably against our skin. The sun is beginning to lower, casting the desert in soft, golden light. The horses wander lazily in the distance, grazing quietly.
He looks up at me, serious. “Mama, can we do this anytime we want?”
