12. Kate
Kate
Noah was getting grumpy by the time church ended, so Lucy drove me back to Finn’s place with Maria in the passenger seat and Noah asleep beside me in his car seat.
The roads were dark and quiet while the truck heater hummed around us.
“You should’ve seen Finn’s face when Maria mentioned the changing station,” Lucy said suddenly, grinning at me through the mirror.
Maria snorted. “That man looked genuinely confused about why babies needed furniture beyond a cot.”
Lucy laughed. “He actually asked, ‘Can’t you just change him on the bed?’”
“In fairness,” Maria replied, “men are idiots.”
“Especially ours,” Lucy muttered.
A smile tugged at my mouth before I could stop it. “It was really kind of him to get it, and the cot.” Maria and Lucy shared a look, but I wasn’t sure what it meant and didn’t want to ask.
When we pulled into the driveway, light spilled from the upstairs windows.
Lucy frowned slightly as she opened the truck door. “Why’s it so quiet?”
Then something heavy crashed overhead. Followed immediately by, “Hold it straight!”
“I am holding it straight!”
“It says two goes into four, but it doesn’t fit.”
Maria sighed deeply. “Ah, the prospects found the instructions.”
Lucy climbed out of the truck. “Lord, give me patience.”
I carefully lifted Noah from his car seat while Maria grabbed the baby bag. The second we stepped inside, more swearing echoed from upstairs.
“Why are there extra screws?”
“Because you skipped step three!”
“I didn’t skip step three!”
Lucy looked towards the ceiling. “You two better not be breaking that changing table!”
A head immediately appeared over the upstairs landing. “We’re not!”
Another loud bang echoed through the house.
Lucy narrowed her eyes. “That did not sound reassuring.”
I bit down hard on a laugh while Noah blinked sleepily against my shoulder.
Maria headed for the stairs first. “Move,” she called upward. “Before you idiots accidentally build a catapult instead.”
“That happened one time,” somebody muttered.
Lucy looked horrified. “What do you mean one time?”
Neither prospect answered.
By the time we reached Finn’s room, both men were crouched around the half-built changing station surrounded by screws, wooden panels, and pure frustration.
The taller prospect looked up immediately. “We almost got it.”
Lucy stared at the drawer hanging crookedly from the frame.
“No,” she said calmly. “You really don’t.”
The second prospect pointed accusingly at the instructions. “This thing’s defective.”
Maria grabbed the booklet from his hand and turned it around.
“It was upside down.”
The room went completely silent, then Lucy burst out laughing. “Oh my God. Finn’s gonna yell at you both for this forever.”
“We built the cot fine,” the taller one defended.
“That’s because the cot had six pieces,” Maria replied dryly.
Noah made a sleepy little sound against my chest, and both prospects immediately lowered their voices.
That surprised me. Lucy noticed too because her expression softened briefly before she pointed towards the scattered screws.
“Fix it before Finn gets back,” she ordered. “Or I’m telling Reaper you nearly crushed his nephew under Swedish flat-pack.”
“That feels dramatic,” one muttered.
Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”
Both prospects immediately went back to work.
Maria smirked beside me. “See? Trainable.”
Eventually, the changing station passed Maria and Lucy’s inspection and the prospects escaped before they got assigned another job.
After they left, the house slowly settled back into quiet.
An hour passed.
Then another.
Lucy and Maria filled the silence with easy conversation while Noah slept beside me, but every sound outside still pulled my attention to the driveway.
I kept listening for Finn’s bike without meaning to.
Eventually Lucy noticed me fighting back the yawns.
“You’re exhausted,” she said gently.
“I’m okay.”
“You fell asleep sitting upright ten minutes ago.”
Maria nodded towards the stairs. “Go get some actual sleep. We’ll stay until Finn gets back.”
“Kate,” Lucy said, “you’re safe.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Upstairs, the room felt too quiet without Finn there.
Not that he was loud, I couldn’t explain it properly. I just felt safer when he was around.
I lay Noah in his cot before I changed into panties and a vest top. I checked on Noah’s cot one more time, then I climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling until exhaustion finally dragged me under.
The sound of the bedroom door opening snapped me awake. My body jolted upright before my brain caught up. Finn paused in the doorway, looking guilty, like he hadn’t expected me to wake.
His eyes flicked over me briefly before shifting away just as quickly.
“It’s me,” he muttered.
My breathing slowly settled.
“Just startled me,” I said, pulling the sheet higher.
Finn nodded once before moving farther into the room.
I watched him check the window before crouching beside Noah’s cot. Then he looked back towards me, and whatever softness had crossed his face disappeared immediately behind something guarded again.
“You should sleep when he is,” he muttered.
I nodded and lay back down.
His presence settled something restless inside me, and sleep pulled me under again.
I must’ve drifted back to sleep quickly because the next time I opened my eyes, pale morning light spilled across the room.
I turned my head to check on Noah—who, for once, had slept through the night—and froze.
Finn was asleep on the floor beside the cot. One arm was tucked beneath his head while the other stretched through the bars of the cot. Noah’s tiny hand was wrapped around his finger.
Emotion hit me so hard, my eyes welled.
He looked uncomfortable as hell, like he never meant to fall asleep there but had anyway.
For Noah.
I stayed still, watching quietly because somehow the moment felt too important to disturb.
The next afternoon was warm enough to sit outside in the backyard.
Noah sat between us on a blanket propped up carefully with pillows while his teddy bear lit up and sang the alphabet.
Every time it started dancing, Noah clapped excitedly and laughed.
Finn sat on the other side of him with one arm resting across his knee watching us.
Not tense the way he’d been at the motel but not completely relaxed, either.
There was still something restless underneath him, part of him didn’t quite know what to do with the two of us.
His gaze drifted sometimes like he was remembering the life he’d had before we arrived.
Maybe he missed it.
I reminded myself that Finn was helping us because Reaper told him to, not because he wanted us there. The thought left an ache low in my chest that I didn’t want to examine too closely.
Noah suddenly lunged for his toy fire truck too enthusiastically and tipped sideways with a startled little noise.
Finn reacted; one hand shot out automatically to steady him before Noah could fall. It was automatic, maybe instinctive, and a smile slipped onto my face before I could stop it.
Finn saw it, his brow pulling slightly. “What?”
“Nothing,” I replied softly.
But it wasn’t nothing, because no matter how restless Finn seemed sometimes, no matter how much he acted like we complicated his life, he was still there.
And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t hate that as much as he thought he did.