Page 49 of Single Mom's Navy Seals
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 iscrystal 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 forwardand 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.
I take my things with me to the door, walking out into the heat. When I round the back of the house, I slow my steps when I see them beneath the tree. Suddenly, I feel uncertain and awkwardness quickly creeps in. Before I can talk myself into turning around, Eli spots me and gives an excited wave, his grin bright and stretched wide across his precious face.
“Cole! Are you coming to draw with us?” he calls, already scooting over and patting the blanket in invitation.
I glance toward Ava, who pointedly keeps her eyes focused on her drawing, not even glancing up. A pang of uncertainty twists briefly in my chest, but Eli’s enthusiastic encouragement winsout. I smile warmly and move forward, lowering myself onto the small blanket.
“Mind if I join?” I ask, deliberately trying to catch Ava’s eye, but she remains stubbornly focused on her notebook.
“Yes! You have to draw something, though,” Eli says firmly, pushing a pencil toward me insistently. “Mama’s drawing me, and I’m drawing horses.”
I chuckle, picking up the offered pencil. “Alright, I’ll give it my best shot.”
Eli beams proudly, immediately diving back into his drawing. “Wanna see what I did already, Cole?”
“Absolutely, buddy,” I say genuinely, leaning closer to inspect his work.
Eli’s drawing is messy and enthusiastic, with colorful horses scattered across the page. He launches into a detailed explanation, describing each horse’s name, personality, and backstory with adorable seriousness.
“This one’s Lightning, because he runs super fast,” Eli explains earnestly, pointing to a blue-colored horse. “And this one’s Cookie, because she likes snacks the best.”
I nod solemnly, pretending to study each horse with great interest. “You put a lot of thought into these, Eli. They look fantastic.”
His smile widens proudly. “Thanks! I’m going to draw more now.”
He settles back down, attention focused intently on the page. My gaze slides back to Ava, noticing how rigidly she holds herself, her pencil moving swiftly but stiffly across her own page.
Eli’s attention shifts when a bright butterfly flutters lazily past. His eyes widen, excitement bubbling over.
“Look! A butterfly!” he shouts, jumping up, his sketchpad forgotten on the blanket. “I have to catch it!”
He darts away before either of us can respond, laughter trailing behind him as he chases the butterfly across the dusty yard. Ava and I sit for a long moment, and the silence between us is heavy without Eli’s exuberance as a buffer.
Finally, unable to hold back any longer, I break the quiet. “Can I see what you’re drawing?”
